Reign of the Forsaken Moon - Chapter 8: Chapter 8
You are reading Reign of the Forsaken Moon, Chapter 8: Chapter 8. Read more chapters of Reign of the Forsaken Moon.
The forest grew colder as Seraphina, Darian, and a small unit of Ashfang warriors moved toward the western mountain pass. The ruins of Moonclaw Keep loomed miles ahead, but even from this distance, she could feel the echo of blood once spilled there.
It wasn’t just a place.
It was a graveyard.
And somewhere within it lay the Warden’s Blade—a sacred relic once carried by her mother, Luna Kaelith, and passed down only to a Luna chosen by both blood and fate.
No one had dared retrieve it since the fall.
Until now.
The journey was slow. Haunted.
Trees bent toward the path as if whispering secrets. Crows circled overhead, too silent. The fog was thick with old magic.
“Seraphina,” Darian said, riding close. “Are you certain about this?”
“No,” she admitted, eyes narrowed. “But certainty never won back a throne.”
They dismounted as the shattered gates of Moonclaw came into view. The once-proud stone was covered in moss and bloodstains, broken statues of ancient Alphas littered like fallen gods.
She stepped forward alone.
Each footfall echoed in her soul like thunder.
Inside the courtyard, it was like time had stopped. The iron doors of the Great Hall hung open, rusted and warped. Ivy had swallowed the walls. Yet her body remembered every crack in the floor.
She paused at the steps where Kael had once tripped chasing a firefly.
The memory sliced into her like a dagger.
But she kept moving.
Down in the catacombs, past rows of stone coffins and crumbled ancestral altars, Seraphina found the final gate—marked by twin crescent moons and stained with dried silverblood.
“It’s here,” she whispered.
A chill swept over them. Even Darian’s wolf stirred uncomfortably.
Seraphina pressed her palm to the center of the door.
A sudden jolt of pain shot through her arm—fire racing through her veins. She gritted her teeth but didn’t move.
A deep groan filled the corridor as the gate began to open. Dust and old enchantments danced in the air.
And then she saw it.
At the heart of the chamber, nestled in obsidian rock, was the Warden’s Blade. Elegant. Brutal. Still burning with a blue glow that hadn’t dimmed in twenty years.
But someone was waiting for her.
Maelis.
Her former Beta. Her best friend. The one who held her hand the day she gave birth to Lyra and Kael.
Now cloaked in Thorne’s sigil, eyes hard, lips twisted into a cruel smile.
“I knew the stench of your magic would return,” Maelis said, stepping forward with a blade of her own drawn. “You never knew how to stay dead.”
Darian growled low, stepping in front of Seraphina, but she touched his shoulder.
“No,” she said. “She’s mine.”
The duel was fast. Ferocious. Personal.
Maelis fought like someone trying to bury guilt with every strike. But Seraphina fought with purpose—with grief sharpened into fury.
“You let them die!” Seraphina roared, dodging a blow and slamming her elbow into Maelis’s throat.
Maelis gasped, staggering. “I had to survive—Thorne promised me power. I didn’t know what he’d do to the children!”
“You knew,” Seraphina hissed, her voice trembling. “You just didn’t care enough to stop him.”
She disarmed Maelis with a brutal twist, her claws now glowing with Moonfire. She pressed her hand to Maelis’s chest.
“I remember every scream. Every betrayal. But I will not let you destroy what's left of me.”
A pulse of light flared from her hand—and Maelis collapsed, unconscious but alive.
Darian watched in silence as Seraphina turned away from the crumpled body.
She approached the Warden’s Blade. As her hand wrapped around the hilt, the runes lit up with blinding silver fire. The entire chamber trembled.
A rush of visions engulfed her—
Her mother, wounded, placing the blade in the stone.
A moonlit prophecy spoken by the stars.
Her children’s laughter turning to cries.
Her own rebirth in blood and ash.
When the visions faded, she stood taller. The blade pulsed with her heartbeat.
It had chosen her.
Later, as they rode back toward Ashfang, Darian broke the silence.
“You spared Maelis.”
Seraphina nodded. “She needs to live with what she did. And if I become as ruthless as Thorne… I’ve already lost.”
Darian smiled, faint but proud. “You haven’t lost anything. You’re becoming something more than a Luna.”
She looked down at the blade resting on her saddle.
“No,” she said softly. “I’m becoming the storm that ends his reign.”
It wasn’t just a place.
It was a graveyard.
And somewhere within it lay the Warden’s Blade—a sacred relic once carried by her mother, Luna Kaelith, and passed down only to a Luna chosen by both blood and fate.
No one had dared retrieve it since the fall.
Until now.
The journey was slow. Haunted.
Trees bent toward the path as if whispering secrets. Crows circled overhead, too silent. The fog was thick with old magic.
“Seraphina,” Darian said, riding close. “Are you certain about this?”
“No,” she admitted, eyes narrowed. “But certainty never won back a throne.”
They dismounted as the shattered gates of Moonclaw came into view. The once-proud stone was covered in moss and bloodstains, broken statues of ancient Alphas littered like fallen gods.
She stepped forward alone.
Each footfall echoed in her soul like thunder.
Inside the courtyard, it was like time had stopped. The iron doors of the Great Hall hung open, rusted and warped. Ivy had swallowed the walls. Yet her body remembered every crack in the floor.
She paused at the steps where Kael had once tripped chasing a firefly.
The memory sliced into her like a dagger.
But she kept moving.
Down in the catacombs, past rows of stone coffins and crumbled ancestral altars, Seraphina found the final gate—marked by twin crescent moons and stained with dried silverblood.
“It’s here,” she whispered.
A chill swept over them. Even Darian’s wolf stirred uncomfortably.
Seraphina pressed her palm to the center of the door.
A sudden jolt of pain shot through her arm—fire racing through her veins. She gritted her teeth but didn’t move.
A deep groan filled the corridor as the gate began to open. Dust and old enchantments danced in the air.
And then she saw it.
At the heart of the chamber, nestled in obsidian rock, was the Warden’s Blade. Elegant. Brutal. Still burning with a blue glow that hadn’t dimmed in twenty years.
But someone was waiting for her.
Maelis.
Her former Beta. Her best friend. The one who held her hand the day she gave birth to Lyra and Kael.
Now cloaked in Thorne’s sigil, eyes hard, lips twisted into a cruel smile.
“I knew the stench of your magic would return,” Maelis said, stepping forward with a blade of her own drawn. “You never knew how to stay dead.”
Darian growled low, stepping in front of Seraphina, but she touched his shoulder.
“No,” she said. “She’s mine.”
The duel was fast. Ferocious. Personal.
Maelis fought like someone trying to bury guilt with every strike. But Seraphina fought with purpose—with grief sharpened into fury.
“You let them die!” Seraphina roared, dodging a blow and slamming her elbow into Maelis’s throat.
Maelis gasped, staggering. “I had to survive—Thorne promised me power. I didn’t know what he’d do to the children!”
“You knew,” Seraphina hissed, her voice trembling. “You just didn’t care enough to stop him.”
She disarmed Maelis with a brutal twist, her claws now glowing with Moonfire. She pressed her hand to Maelis’s chest.
“I remember every scream. Every betrayal. But I will not let you destroy what's left of me.”
A pulse of light flared from her hand—and Maelis collapsed, unconscious but alive.
Darian watched in silence as Seraphina turned away from the crumpled body.
She approached the Warden’s Blade. As her hand wrapped around the hilt, the runes lit up with blinding silver fire. The entire chamber trembled.
A rush of visions engulfed her—
Her mother, wounded, placing the blade in the stone.
A moonlit prophecy spoken by the stars.
Her children’s laughter turning to cries.
Her own rebirth in blood and ash.
When the visions faded, she stood taller. The blade pulsed with her heartbeat.
It had chosen her.
Later, as they rode back toward Ashfang, Darian broke the silence.
“You spared Maelis.”
Seraphina nodded. “She needs to live with what she did. And if I become as ruthless as Thorne… I’ve already lost.”
Darian smiled, faint but proud. “You haven’t lost anything. You’re becoming something more than a Luna.”
She looked down at the blade resting on her saddle.
“No,” she said softly. “I’m becoming the storm that ends his reign.”
End of Reign of the Forsaken Moon Chapter 8. Continue reading Chapter 9 or return to Reign of the Forsaken Moon book page.