Reign of the Forsaken Moon - Chapter 24: Chapter 24

There were no horns. No flames. No blood spilled under moonlight.
Just the sound of children laughing in the palace garden.
Kael and Lyra raced through the maze of silver-laced hedges, their wolf-forms shimmering—Kael’s fur ember-black with streaks of gold, Lyra’s a gleaming ivory with moonlit eyes. It was the first time in moons that Seraphina had seen them shift without fear.
She stood at the balcony, a mug of pine tea in hand, watching her children reclaim their childhood.
“I never thought we’d get here,” she murmured.
Darian came to stand beside her, still dressed in light armor despite the peace. “Neither did I. But here we are.”
They didn’t speak for a while.
They didn’t need to.
The Healing Court
The Moonclaw Keep had changed.
Laughter now echoed in the halls where once there were war cries. New guards had been sworn from former rival packs. Seraphina had insisted that warriors from even the once-hostile Ironfang and Red Hollow be included in her retinue—not for their strength, but for unity.
Mira now oversaw the Court of Integration, where disputes between packs were settled through council instead of combat. She was ruthless with words, sharper with law, and utterly brilliant.
“Justice,” Mira said once, “is just another form of magic. And I intend to master it.”
The Festival of the Moon
On the first full moon of the season, Seraphina declared a festival.
Food, music, and ritual dances lit up the Moonclaw grounds. Shifters who had once drawn blades on one another now shared bread and wine, exchanging stories beside fire pits.
Kael and Lyra each lit a ceremonial lantern in honor of their father, who—despite his betrayal—had once protected them.
When Lyra whispered, “Is it okay that I still miss him?” Seraphina knelt and hugged her tight.
“Love doesn’t disappear,” she said. “It just changes shape.”
The girl cried freely, for the first time.
Kael said nothing. But he reached out, took his sister’s hand, and held it through the night.
A Heart Opening
Darian and Seraphina walked through the reflecting pools at dawn.
No guards. No advisors. Just them.
“You’re not wearing your crown,” he teased.
She smirked. “It’s heavy. You try wearing it for seven hours while pretending not to glare at diplomats.”
They paused at the edge of a pond, the water so still it mirrored the sky.
“I’m proud of you,” Darian said.
She blinked, caught off guard.
“I’ve seen rulers who won by force. I’ve seen those who ruled by fear. But you… you lead by heart. Even when it breaks.”
Seraphina looked at him. “Does it scare you? Loving me?”
“Yes,” he said softly. “But not as much as not loving you would.”
He leaned in.
And finally, she let herself fall into him.
No fear. No past. Just now.
Visions of the Flame
That night, Seraphina dreamed.
She stood in a forest of ash, the trees blackened and smoldering. A voice—familiar, distant, blood-bound—echoed through the cinders.
> “You hold a throne not meant for you…”
She turned.
A woman emerged from the smoke.
Golden-eyed. Red-haired. A face like hers, but older. Sharper.
Not her mother.
Not a sister.
But something else.
> “I was cast out so you could rise. Now I will return. And I will take what is mine.”
The woman raised her hand.
Flames erupted.
Seraphina woke with a gasp.
The First Whispers
The next day, Mira brought her a sealed scroll, delivered by a hawk bearing no pack crest.
The ink was red. The seal, black wax.
Inside:
> The blood of Stormfang still flows.
The claim is not dead.
The fire shall choose its rightful heir.
Attached was a name.
Aurelia Stormfang.
And a title.
Daughter of the Disinherited Flame.
Seraphina’s grip on the scroll tightened.
So it begins.
A Warning From Within
At moonrise, Mira entered the observatory.
“I did a trace,” she said. “Stormfang was an ancient offshoot of the Moonclaw line—exiled for attempting a blood rebellion over three centuries ago. Their descendants should be long dead.”
“But they aren’t,” Seraphina said, voice cold.
“No. And it gets worse.”
Mira handed her a glowing stone—an echo crystal.
It replayed a whispered conversation from a hidden corridor in the east wing.
> “When Aurelia returns, she’ll burn the false queen to ash.”
“We should’ve backed her from the start. Seraphina’s soft. Too human.”
“Let her enjoy her peace. It won’t last.”
Seraphina’s jaw clenched.
Even in her own palace… betrayal bloomed.
The Calm Before the Storm
She stood that night in her children’s room, watching them sleep.
Kael curled up like a pup.
Lyra sprawled, arms wide, dreaming of stars.
Seraphina brushed a curl from her daughter’s cheek and whispered:
“I will not lose you again.”
She left the room and walked to the war chamber.
Mira, Darian, and her most trusted allies were waiting.
“We prepare,” she said. “Quietly. Swiftly.”
She looked at each of them, her voice unwavering.
“Because when Aurelia Stormfang comes… she will not find a kingdom at peace. She will find a queen ready to burn down the world to keep what she loves.”