Reign of the Forsaken Moon - Chapter 16: Chapter 16

It didn’t roar.
It didn’t screech or snarl.
The Devourer whispered.
> “Seraphina…”
Its voice came from everywhere—above, below, inside her thoughts.
Darian drew his sword of moonsteel. Mira raised her barrier. Shael stood between them, breathing slowly, the starlight blade pulsing at her hip.
The pit writhed.
Out of it rose… a shape.
Impossible.
It had no true form—just a distortion in reality. Sometimes a great wolf made of ash. Sometimes a spider of galaxies. Sometimes… her mate’s face.
> “We remember you,” it hissed. “The goddess who caged us. The mother who burned worlds. The child of flame.”
Seraphina stepped forward.
The others tried to stop her.
She raised a hand.
“No. It wants me. It always has.”
The Bargain
A glowing thread slithered from the creature’s mass. It hovered in the air before her, showing images—her children. Lyra and Kael. Still alive, trapped in crystalline prisons of light and pain.
> “Give us your soul,” the Devourer purred. “And they live. As before. Whole. Laughing. Real.”
Shael’s voice cracked behind her. “Don’t listen! It lies!”
But Seraphina’s heart trembled. Her knees weakened.
She saw Kael giggling in a sunlit field. Lyra running to hug her.
So real.
So close.
> “You failed them once,” the Devourer murmured. “Don’t fail them again.”
A Mother’s Grief
Tears fell from her eyes.
“Do you think I don’t remember?” she whispered. “The smell of their fur? The way Lyra hummed in her sleep? The squeeze of Kael’s hand when he was scared?”
She took a step closer to the edge.
Darian shouted, “Sera, no!”
Mira’s voice broke. “There’s always a price! You of all people know that!”
But Seraphina didn’t stop.
She walked to the lip of the void.
The Devourer opened its arms—dozens of them, welcoming.
> “Yes… Yes, return to us—”
Seraphina dropped to one knee.
And smiled.
> “You shouldn’t have shown me they’re still alive.”
The Devourer paused.
The Trap Reversed
She held out both hands—and let her true power rise.
Flame. Starfire. Wolflight.
It burned from her skin like a second sun.
Mira screamed a spell that split the air.
Darian dove into the pit, blade-first.
Shael leapt after, carving a path of silver flame.
And Seraphina? She stepped in.
The void shattered.
The Devourer howled—not in hunger this time, but in pain.
> “You brought light into my belly—”
“You took my children,” she roared. “I brought justice.”
Within the Devourer
Inside the Devourer was a world of sorrow.
Endless corridors of memory and fear.
Seraphina ran through them, her soul burning, her power waking.
Every nightmare clawed at her. The betrayal. The deaths. The loneliness.
She bled.
She faltered.
But then…
She saw them.
Lyra.
Kael.
Their cages glowed.
The threads binding them were her own regrets.
She reached for them—and a final voice stopped her.
> “You failed them.”
Her former mate’s voice.
He stood in her path. A vision, a shade—but cruelly vivid.
“You loved your power more than your pack.”
She didn’t scream.
She didn’t argue.
She simply burned him out of existence.
> “I am not your shame,” she whispered. “I am their mother.”
The Rescue
She cut the bindings.
Lyra gasped. Kael wept.
“Mommy!” they cried in unison.
She wrapped them in her arms.
For the first time in years, warmth returned to her chest.
A pulse.
Her soul didn’t break.
It healed.
The Battle Outside
Darian fought shadows that refused to die.
Mira held the collapsing realm together with every ounce of her magic.
Shael—half light, half dark—fought herself, her past, her purpose.
And then Seraphina rose from the pit.
With her children in her arms.
Wreathed in flame.
Crowned in starlight.
Eyes glowing like twin moons.
> “Enough,” she said.
The Devourer screamed.
And she answered.
The End of Devouring
Her light surged.
Every soul trapped in the Devourer rose up behind her—thousands of wolves, warriors, lovers, children.
They sang a song of freedom.
And with that chorus, Seraphina unmade the creature.
Not by force.
By memory.
By love.
Its form unraveled.
The void collapsed.
The stars returned to the sky.
Aftermath
They stood beneath a quiet sky.
No more distortion.
No more whispers.
Kael tugged on her sleeve. “Mommy… can we go home?”
She looked at Darian.
He smiled, bloodied but whole.
Mira dropped to her knees, laughing thro
ugh tears.
Shael stood beside Seraphina. Whole, silent.
“What now?” she asked.
Seraphina touched her children’s faces.
“We build. We remember. We reign.”
The Twice-Born Luna had returned.
Not just as queen.
Not just as mother.
But as a legend made flesh.