Reign of the Forsaken Moon - Chapter 18: Chapter 18
You are reading Reign of the Forsaken Moon, Chapter 18: Chapter 18. Read more chapters of Reign of the Forsaken Moon.
The pendant was cold in her hand.
A shard of silver etched with the crest of the Eastern Wilds—her mother’s homeland, the place where Seraphina had been born but never belonged.
She stood alone in her private chamber, moonlight spilling across stone floors and tapestries of her rebuilt banner: a flame-wreathed wolf howling beneath a silver moon.
Behind her, the door remained closed.
She hadn’t told Mira.
Not yet.
Or Darian.
Or even the children.
This wasn’t news for her court.
This was personal.
Old Wounds
Seraphina rarely thought of her birth mother.
Queen Adraste of the Wildfang Kingdom—ruthless, cunning, cold. A woman who had called her daughter a mistake when Seraphina first showed signs of unnatural power.
The memory of that day was a scar that no magic had ever healed.
She had been fourteen.
Bleeding from her first shift. Shaking. Terrified.
And Adraste had looked at her like she was a weapon too dangerous to keep… and too valuable to destroy.
> “We’ll send you to the mountain packs,” Adraste had said. “Let them make use of you.”
She never saw her mother again.
Until now.
The Council Reacts
When she presented the pendant to her advisors, the mood shifted like a storm tide.
Mira leaned over the table, magic crackling at her fingertips. “This isn’t just a threat. This is a summons. The Old Blood is invoking ancient right.”
Shael, silent and calm as ever, added, “It means they plan to challenge you for dominion. They think you’ve grown weak through mercy.”
Darian crossed his arms. “Then they’re idiots.”
Seraphina stared at the pendant. “No. They’re something worse.”
She lifted her eyes.
“They’re family.”
A Legacy of Fire
That night, she went walking alone.
Not as queen.
Not as Luna.
Just as Seraphina.
She wandered the border woods where the moonlight hit the leaves like silver dust. Memories stirred with every step. Her childhood, her exile. The dreams of being something more than what they allowed her to be.
It was here that her children found her.
Lyra, eyes full of curiosity. Kael, carrying a blanket half-dragging on the forest floor.
“Are we in danger again?” Lyra asked.
Seraphina crouched to their level, wrapping them in her arms.
“Not if I can help it.”
The Envoy
The next day, they arrived.
Four wolves dressed in regal green and bone armor, bearing the sigil of the Eastern Wilds—a black flame coiled around a thorned crown.
At their front stood a woman Seraphina recognized immediately.
Tall. Elegant. Ageless.
Queen Adraste.
Her mother.
The throne-thief.
Mother and Monster
Their meeting took place in the open court under the Dawn Tree, a sacred space where lies were believed to echo louder than truth.
Seraphina stood without crown or armor.
Adraste arrived like a winter storm—icy, flawless, and imperious.
“Daughter,” she said as if the word left a bitter taste.
“Queen,” Seraphina replied with equal frost.
Adraste gave a smile as polished as a dagger. “You’ve made quite the legend for yourself.”
“I didn’t ask your approval.”
“No,” Adraste said. “But you will ask for peace.”
Seraphina blinked. “Peace?”
Adraste stepped closer.
“Return to the East. Bend the knee. Rule with me. Reclaim your true place.”
A beat of silence.
Seraphina’s voice was quiet.
> “You left me to die.”
> “I protected you,” Adraste snapped. “You were dangerous. Wild. You still are. But now? Now you’re valuable.”
Another silence.
Then Seraphina smiled.
> “You should have come to kill me.”
The Challenge
Adraste’s eyes narrowed. “So you reject the Old Blood?”
“I am the Old Blood,” Seraphina answered. “But I’ve made something new. Something better.”
“Then we will take it.”
The guards tensed.
Darian stepped forward, growling low.
But Seraphina lifted her hand.
“No. Let her go.”
Adraste turned to leave, her green-cloaked envoys at her back.
But before she vanished into the shadows of the trees, she paused.
“You can’t protect them forever,” she said without turning. “Not your pack. Not your children. Not even yourself.”
Seraphina whispered back.
> “I died once, Mother. I won’t die again.”
The War Begins
That night, the Moonclaw borders lit with strange fires.
Scout posts found dead familiars marked with Eastern sigils.
The rivers flowed red—not with blood, but with binding spells.
And wolves began to whisper of a rising army in the East, one that marched beneath the banner of a queen with no heart and a daughter destined to fall again.
Seraphina stood in the watchtower, watching the distant lightning.
Her fingers curled into fists.
Her voice was steady.
> “Let her come. Let them all come.”
Because this time?
She wasn’t alone.
A shard of silver etched with the crest of the Eastern Wilds—her mother’s homeland, the place where Seraphina had been born but never belonged.
She stood alone in her private chamber, moonlight spilling across stone floors and tapestries of her rebuilt banner: a flame-wreathed wolf howling beneath a silver moon.
Behind her, the door remained closed.
She hadn’t told Mira.
Not yet.
Or Darian.
Or even the children.
This wasn’t news for her court.
This was personal.
Old Wounds
Seraphina rarely thought of her birth mother.
Queen Adraste of the Wildfang Kingdom—ruthless, cunning, cold. A woman who had called her daughter a mistake when Seraphina first showed signs of unnatural power.
The memory of that day was a scar that no magic had ever healed.
She had been fourteen.
Bleeding from her first shift. Shaking. Terrified.
And Adraste had looked at her like she was a weapon too dangerous to keep… and too valuable to destroy.
> “We’ll send you to the mountain packs,” Adraste had said. “Let them make use of you.”
She never saw her mother again.
Until now.
The Council Reacts
When she presented the pendant to her advisors, the mood shifted like a storm tide.
Mira leaned over the table, magic crackling at her fingertips. “This isn’t just a threat. This is a summons. The Old Blood is invoking ancient right.”
Shael, silent and calm as ever, added, “It means they plan to challenge you for dominion. They think you’ve grown weak through mercy.”
Darian crossed his arms. “Then they’re idiots.”
Seraphina stared at the pendant. “No. They’re something worse.”
She lifted her eyes.
“They’re family.”
A Legacy of Fire
That night, she went walking alone.
Not as queen.
Not as Luna.
Just as Seraphina.
She wandered the border woods where the moonlight hit the leaves like silver dust. Memories stirred with every step. Her childhood, her exile. The dreams of being something more than what they allowed her to be.
It was here that her children found her.
Lyra, eyes full of curiosity. Kael, carrying a blanket half-dragging on the forest floor.
“Are we in danger again?” Lyra asked.
Seraphina crouched to their level, wrapping them in her arms.
“Not if I can help it.”
The Envoy
The next day, they arrived.
Four wolves dressed in regal green and bone armor, bearing the sigil of the Eastern Wilds—a black flame coiled around a thorned crown.
At their front stood a woman Seraphina recognized immediately.
Tall. Elegant. Ageless.
Queen Adraste.
Her mother.
The throne-thief.
Mother and Monster
Their meeting took place in the open court under the Dawn Tree, a sacred space where lies were believed to echo louder than truth.
Seraphina stood without crown or armor.
Adraste arrived like a winter storm—icy, flawless, and imperious.
“Daughter,” she said as if the word left a bitter taste.
“Queen,” Seraphina replied with equal frost.
Adraste gave a smile as polished as a dagger. “You’ve made quite the legend for yourself.”
“I didn’t ask your approval.”
“No,” Adraste said. “But you will ask for peace.”
Seraphina blinked. “Peace?”
Adraste stepped closer.
“Return to the East. Bend the knee. Rule with me. Reclaim your true place.”
A beat of silence.
Seraphina’s voice was quiet.
> “You left me to die.”
> “I protected you,” Adraste snapped. “You were dangerous. Wild. You still are. But now? Now you’re valuable.”
Another silence.
Then Seraphina smiled.
> “You should have come to kill me.”
The Challenge
Adraste’s eyes narrowed. “So you reject the Old Blood?”
“I am the Old Blood,” Seraphina answered. “But I’ve made something new. Something better.”
“Then we will take it.”
The guards tensed.
Darian stepped forward, growling low.
But Seraphina lifted her hand.
“No. Let her go.”
Adraste turned to leave, her green-cloaked envoys at her back.
But before she vanished into the shadows of the trees, she paused.
“You can’t protect them forever,” she said without turning. “Not your pack. Not your children. Not even yourself.”
Seraphina whispered back.
> “I died once, Mother. I won’t die again.”
The War Begins
That night, the Moonclaw borders lit with strange fires.
Scout posts found dead familiars marked with Eastern sigils.
The rivers flowed red—not with blood, but with binding spells.
And wolves began to whisper of a rising army in the East, one that marched beneath the banner of a queen with no heart and a daughter destined to fall again.
Seraphina stood in the watchtower, watching the distant lightning.
Her fingers curled into fists.
Her voice was steady.
> “Let her come. Let them all come.”
Because this time?
She wasn’t alone.
End of Reign of the Forsaken Moon Chapter 18. Continue reading Chapter 19 or return to Reign of the Forsaken Moon book page.