Reign of the Forsaken Moon - Chapter 33: Chapter 33

Windrest had become a fortress once more.
The Keep pulsed with life and tension, its courtyards echoing with the sound of blades being sharpened, war chants rising from the training fields, and the rustle of urgent feet across stone corridors. All pretenses of peace were gone. A battle was coming—not just for territory or survival—but for the very soul of the realm.
And Seraphina could feel it in her bones.
She stood in the eastern watchtower, overlooking the kingdom she had bled for—died for—and wondered if she would have to do so again.
Building the Storm
“I want all patrols doubled along the southern ridges,” she instructed Mira, Kael, and two war captains. “Anyone moving in or out of the outer villages must be marked and checked.”
“What about the mountain pass?” Kael asked. “It hasn’t been used in decades.”
Seraphina’s eyes narrowed. “Which makes it the perfect place to stage a surprise siege.”
“Understood,” Kael said.
Mira added, “And the wards?”
“We re-anchor them in blood and silver,” Seraphina said. “I’ll lend mine if I must.”
“Yours is already weakening,” Mira warned.
Seraphina’s jaw clenched. “Then I’ll bleed until the walls remember my strength.”
Darian, who had been silent at her side, finally spoke.
“There’s another option.”
The Forbidden Path
Later, alone in the war room, Darian set down a scroll bearing a rune so old that even the moonstone in the ceiling flickered uneasily at its presence.
Seraphina raised a brow. “Where did you get this?”
“From the vaults of Hollowfang, before it fell.”
She hesitated. “You shouldn’t have taken anything from there.”
“I took what I needed to protect you.”
She stared at him for a long time. “What is it?”
He opened the scroll slowly. “A pact. Old magic. Predates even the Gate. But it comes with a price.”
“Of course it does,” she whispered.
He leaned in, eyes sharp. “If I bind myself to it, I gain the strength of the Moonshadow beasts. Night wolves born of both spirit and claw. They’ll obey no one… except me.”
She looked horrified. “Darian, those creatures destroyed four kingdoms in the Lunar Divide. That magic was banned for a reason.”
“But it will protect you.”
“No. Not like this. Not by becoming something... twisted.”
He reached for her hand.
“I watched you die once. I can’t do it again.”
“And I won’t let you lose yourself to keep me breathing.”
A beat of silence. Then—
“We’ll find another way,” she said, softer now. “Together.”
He let the scroll fall closed, though the weight of it stayed in the air.
A Letter in the Dark
That night, as Windrest settled under the rising moon, a letter arrived at Seraphina’s chamber—slipped beneath the door with neither sound nor scent.
The handwriting was delicate. Feminine. Familiar.
She unfolded the parchment slowly.
> Seraphina,
You are not the only Twice-Born.
The throne you reclaimed was never truly yours. It was borrowed, for a time.
I will collect what was promised. Blood for blood. Throne for throne.
Signed,
Lady Celestine of Hollowfang
The name hit her like a thunderclap.
Celestine.
A distant relative—part of her grandmother’s shattered bloodline. Banished decades ago. Believed dead.
But if she lived…
She wasn’t just a threat. She was claiming Seraphina’s crown.
Memory and Fire
Seraphina found herself in the memory chamber that evening—where old Luna lineages were inscribed across obsidian walls. She lit the silver-flamed torches and walked until she found the name:
Celestine Virethorn Lunea.
Born of twin fireblood. Twice-Born through forbidden rites. Her line was erased after a failed uprising generations ago.
And now… she had returned.
“Why now?” Seraphina whispered.
Behind her, Lucien’s voice answered. “Because you made them believe again. And faith always draws fire.”
She turned, not startled. “You knew.”
“I suspected. The Virethorn line is rarely extinguished—it just goes underground.”
“Do you think she’s aligned with the Gate?”
Lucien hesitated. “I think… she may have opened it once. And was punished.”
Seraphina closed her eyes. “So she seeks revenge.”
“She seeks completion. And you stand in her way.”
The Choice
Seraphina met with Darian under the moonlit sky, where wind rolled off the cliffs like the breath of the Goddess herself.
“She’s coming,” Seraphina said.
He didn’t ask who. He had seen the shift in her, the storm in her gaze.
“I will stand between you and whatever threat rises,” he said. “But I ask for one thing in return.”
“What?”
“That you let me fight as your equal. Not as your protector. Not as your mate. As your partner.”
She stepped closer. “I’ve always seen you as that.”
“You haven’t always trusted me to be.”
Her heart ached. Because he was right.
So she kissed him—deeply, fiercely—until breath was an afterthought and only the bond remained.
“Then fight beside me,” she whispered. “And if I fall—”
“You won’t.”
He said it like a vow. And it was.
In the Shadows
Far beyond the edges of Windrest, in the ruins of Hollowfang, a woman stood on the bones of the past.
Lady Celestine, tall and sharp-eyed, surrounded by wolves bred from ancient blood and twisted rituals. Her cloak shimmered with runes no one had spoken in a century. Her hands bled from the chains she once broke.
Before her, a brazier flared as she whispered a single name:
> “Seraphina.”
From the shadows behind her, a soldier stepped forward.
“What is your will, my lady?”
Celestine smiled, cruel and cold.
“Let her think she’s safe. Let her rebuild her wards. Let her fall in love again.”
She turned toward the broken horizon.
> “Then take it all away.”