Reign of the Forsaken Moon - Chapter 17: Chapter 17
You are reading Reign of the Forsaken Moon, Chapter 17: Chapter 17. Read more chapters of Reign of the Forsaken Moon.
The ruins of the Starfall Expanse smoldered behind them, a graveyard of gods and monsters.
And ahead?
A sunrise.
Not just any dawn—but the first in centuries to break over a world free of the Devourer’s shadow.
Seraphina stood at the edge of a cliff with Kael in one arm and Lyra clutching her other hand. Darian, Mira, and Shael remained behind her in respectful silence.
The wind carried the scent of ice, ash… and hope.
The Queen Returns
When they crossed back into werewolf lands, the forests knelt.
Trees bent their branches.
Rivers shimmered gold.
And every creature, man or beast, paused—sensing something in the air.
Not fear.
Not even power.
But reverence.
In the Moonclaw ruins, wolves emerged—young and old, broken and scattered.
They stared at Seraphina and dropped to their knees, their muzzles to the soil.
Even the Alphas who had once betrayed her.
Especially them.
Trial by Silence
No one dared speak until she did.
Seraphina stepped forward, her children beside her, her silver cloak fluttering in the breeze.
She looked at the faces of wolves who had once called her sister… and traitor.
She raised her voice.
> “You watched me fall.”
> “You let them slaughter my children.”
> “You served the cowards who destroyed what I built.”
The crowd flinched.
She let the silence sharpen.
> “And still… I came back.”
> “Not for you. Not for vengeance.”
> “But for them.” She pointed to Lyra and Kael. “And for every child you forgot when you bowed to fear.”
> “So now I ask—what kind of pack will we be?”
No one answered.
Until a trembling voice came from the crowd.
An old wolf—Alric, the former Beta.
“I am sorry, my Luna,” he whispered. “We failed you.”
One by one, others echoed him.
> “We failed you.”
> “We failed them.”
> “Forgive us.”
She took a deep breath.
Then nodded.
“I will forgive. But never forget. And neither should you.”
A Coronation of Fire
It was not done in halls.
It was not done with crowns.
Seraphina’s coronation was a ritual of the old blood.
She stood barefoot in the ashes of her ancestors, her children beside her, and the flames of rebirth rose from the sacred stones.
Mira recited the incantation.
Shael offered the blade of starlight, now quenched and reforged as a scepter.
Darian held out the moonstone crest—once broken, now made whole.
The flames leapt toward her.
And Seraphina stood untouched.
> “The Flameborn Luna,” they cried.
> “Twice-born.”
> “Star-marked.”
> “Our Queen.”
Rebuilding the Realm
Weeks passed.
The Moonclaw Pack grew again—not just in number, but in soul.
Former enemies came seeking alliance.
The Windhowl, the Redfangs, even the Witches of Blackbarrow—all sent envoys. Some with gold, others with warriors. A few came simply to witness the living legend they had once dismissed.
Seraphina welcomed them.
But she trusted slowly.
She built a new council—one that included Mira, Darian, and even Shael.
A council of loyalty, not lineage.
And her first decree?
“No child will be trained in war before they are trained in peace.”
A Mother’s Promise
At night, she tucked Lyra and Kael into their beds—real beds, not tents or prison cells.
She read them stories.
She listened to Kael’s dreams.
She braided Lyra’s hair.
Once, Kael asked, “Will the bad thing ever come back?”
She hugged him tight.
And said the only honest thing she could.
> “If it does, it will find me waiting.”
Darian’s Question
One evening, as the stars shimmered above, Darian approached her on the moonlit balcony of the rebuilt citadel.
“You know,” he said, “there’s something I’ve never asked.”
She looked up at him. “What’s that?”
He smiled gently.
> “What would you have done… if I’d never come with you?”
She studied him.
Then stepped close, laying her hand on his chest.
“I would’ve won,” she said. “But I wouldn’t have lived.”
He kissed her.
Not in passion, but in promise.
A Warning from the East
But peace is never without price.
Weeks after the coronation, a raven arrived.
It carried no words.
Only a pendant.
One Seraphina recognized.
It had belonged to her mother—the woman who abandoned her to save her own position in the Eastlands.
Attached to it was a single phrase carved into the metal:
> “The Old Blood remembers. And it wants its throne back.”
Seraphina closed her hand around it.
Smiled.
> “Let them come.”
And ahead?
A sunrise.
Not just any dawn—but the first in centuries to break over a world free of the Devourer’s shadow.
Seraphina stood at the edge of a cliff with Kael in one arm and Lyra clutching her other hand. Darian, Mira, and Shael remained behind her in respectful silence.
The wind carried the scent of ice, ash… and hope.
The Queen Returns
When they crossed back into werewolf lands, the forests knelt.
Trees bent their branches.
Rivers shimmered gold.
And every creature, man or beast, paused—sensing something in the air.
Not fear.
Not even power.
But reverence.
In the Moonclaw ruins, wolves emerged—young and old, broken and scattered.
They stared at Seraphina and dropped to their knees, their muzzles to the soil.
Even the Alphas who had once betrayed her.
Especially them.
Trial by Silence
No one dared speak until she did.
Seraphina stepped forward, her children beside her, her silver cloak fluttering in the breeze.
She looked at the faces of wolves who had once called her sister… and traitor.
She raised her voice.
> “You watched me fall.”
> “You let them slaughter my children.”
> “You served the cowards who destroyed what I built.”
The crowd flinched.
She let the silence sharpen.
> “And still… I came back.”
> “Not for you. Not for vengeance.”
> “But for them.” She pointed to Lyra and Kael. “And for every child you forgot when you bowed to fear.”
> “So now I ask—what kind of pack will we be?”
No one answered.
Until a trembling voice came from the crowd.
An old wolf—Alric, the former Beta.
“I am sorry, my Luna,” he whispered. “We failed you.”
One by one, others echoed him.
> “We failed you.”
> “We failed them.”
> “Forgive us.”
She took a deep breath.
Then nodded.
“I will forgive. But never forget. And neither should you.”
A Coronation of Fire
It was not done in halls.
It was not done with crowns.
Seraphina’s coronation was a ritual of the old blood.
She stood barefoot in the ashes of her ancestors, her children beside her, and the flames of rebirth rose from the sacred stones.
Mira recited the incantation.
Shael offered the blade of starlight, now quenched and reforged as a scepter.
Darian held out the moonstone crest—once broken, now made whole.
The flames leapt toward her.
And Seraphina stood untouched.
> “The Flameborn Luna,” they cried.
> “Twice-born.”
> “Star-marked.”
> “Our Queen.”
Rebuilding the Realm
Weeks passed.
The Moonclaw Pack grew again—not just in number, but in soul.
Former enemies came seeking alliance.
The Windhowl, the Redfangs, even the Witches of Blackbarrow—all sent envoys. Some with gold, others with warriors. A few came simply to witness the living legend they had once dismissed.
Seraphina welcomed them.
But she trusted slowly.
She built a new council—one that included Mira, Darian, and even Shael.
A council of loyalty, not lineage.
And her first decree?
“No child will be trained in war before they are trained in peace.”
A Mother’s Promise
At night, she tucked Lyra and Kael into their beds—real beds, not tents or prison cells.
She read them stories.
She listened to Kael’s dreams.
She braided Lyra’s hair.
Once, Kael asked, “Will the bad thing ever come back?”
She hugged him tight.
And said the only honest thing she could.
> “If it does, it will find me waiting.”
Darian’s Question
One evening, as the stars shimmered above, Darian approached her on the moonlit balcony of the rebuilt citadel.
“You know,” he said, “there’s something I’ve never asked.”
She looked up at him. “What’s that?”
He smiled gently.
> “What would you have done… if I’d never come with you?”
She studied him.
Then stepped close, laying her hand on his chest.
“I would’ve won,” she said. “But I wouldn’t have lived.”
He kissed her.
Not in passion, but in promise.
A Warning from the East
But peace is never without price.
Weeks after the coronation, a raven arrived.
It carried no words.
Only a pendant.
One Seraphina recognized.
It had belonged to her mother—the woman who abandoned her to save her own position in the Eastlands.
Attached to it was a single phrase carved into the metal:
> “The Old Blood remembers. And it wants its throne back.”
Seraphina closed her hand around it.
Smiled.
> “Let them come.”
End of Reign of the Forsaken Moon Chapter 17. Continue reading Chapter 18 or return to Reign of the Forsaken Moon book page.