It began with a scream.
Not one of pain—but of warning.
Aria jolted awake, heart slamming against her ribs. For a second, disoriented, she thought the ache in her lower back had returned. But this was different. The air itself felt wrong—charged, metallic. Like the moment before lightning strikes.
Then came the second scream—closer. A man’s voice, cut short.
Zara burst into the room a heartbeat later, eyes wide and glowing with panic.
“Aria, stay down,” she snapped. “There’s been a breach. Someone—or something—got past the outer wards.”
Aria pushed off the furs. “Where’s the child’s ward?”
“Still glowing,” Zara said. “But—something triggered the inner ring.”
Aria’s pulse spiked. The inner ring was the last layer of defense before the personal quarters. Whoever had gotten through it was either suicidal or terrifyingly skilled.
“Who breached it?” she asked, already rising to her feet.
Zara didn’t answer right away. That pause spoke volumes.
“I don’t know,” she admitted. “The guards say it’s… shifting. Not fully wolf. Not fully anything.”
Aria moved to her dressing chest, yanked free the dagger Kael had given her years ago. She didn’t care whose blade it was anymore—only that it could kill.
“You shouldn’t be up,” Zara said, voice tight.
“And you shouldn’t be the only one fighting,” Aria replied. “Where’s Kael?”
“Already downstairs. But Aria—this thing isn’t here for you.”
Aria stilled. “Then who?”
Zara’s lips parted, the words brittle. “It’s calling the baby.”
The air turned colder.
Aria gripped the dagger tighter and followed Zara out.
They found Kael in the main hall, surrounded by guards—half-shifted and bloodied.
His claws dripped. His shirt was torn. But it was the look in his eyes that caught Aria’s breath: pure, animal fury. Not at her. Not at the situation. But at whatever lay beyond the crumbled doorway behind him.
“You should be upstairs,” he barked as soon as he saw her.
“And you should be keeping the threat away from our child,” she snapped back.
He stepped aside, and that’s when Aria saw it.
The thing had stopped just short of the nursery wing.
A twisted creature—part wolf, part mist—slithered across the stone floor. It had no eyes, no mouth, just shadows that pulsed and shifted. But from its center came a sound—a low, rhythmic hum.
A lullaby.
One Aria recognized from the ancient Lunaris rites.
“What is that?” Zara whispered.
Kael growled. “It’s not a rogue. It doesn’t bleed like a wolf.”
Aria took a step forward.
The creature paused.
It tilted—not with curiosity, but with reverence.
“It’s not attacking,” she murmured.
The air around the creature shimmered. Its shape grew less distinct, tendrils of smoke breaking away from its core.
Then, a voice—not spoken aloud but pressed directly into their minds.
“Heir of Lunaris… born of severed bond… rise.”
Kael staggered backward. “What the hell was that?”
Zara moved to Aria’s side. “It’s trying to awaken the baby.”
“No,” Aria said. “It’s… guarding her.”
The creature slithered another inch forward.
Kael moved fast, lunging in front of Aria.
“No closer!” he roared, claws out.
The creature reared back—then lashed.
A tendril of shadow struck Kael across the chest, sending him flying into a pillar with a sickening crunch.
Aria screamed, lunging forward with her blade, but before she could make contact, the creature retreated—vanishing into the floor like smoke sucked through a crack.
Silence followed.
Broken only by Kael’s groan as he tried to rise.
Aria ran to him, hands trembling. “Are you—”
“I’m fine,” he grunted, blood leaking from his mouth. “More worried about… whatever that was.”
Aria looked toward the nursery, where faint blue light still pulsed beneath the door.
“She called it,” she whispered.
Kael blinked. “Who?”
“Our daughter,” Aria said, voice tight. “She called something older than this pack.”
They sealed the halls by morning, the ward runes burning brighter than before.
The creature had vanished, but the damage lingered—three guards were unconscious, two injured. The outer barrier had ruptured and would take days to repair.
Zara sat cross-legged at the nursery’s threshold, muttering protective charms without pause.
Kael leaned against the far wall, his chest bandaged, his silence louder than ever.
Aria stood alone at the window, watching the sunrise break through silver clouds.
“She’s not just a child,” she said quietly.
Kael didn’t respond.
“She’s a beacon.”
Still silence.
Finally, he spoke. “Do you think… the old magics are returning?”
Aria turned. “I think they never left. I think they’ve been waiting.”
She moved to the crib, placing a hand over her belly. The child stirred beneath her palm, soft and strong.
“We need to prepare,” she said.
“For what?”
“For others,” she replied, “who will want to use her. Worship her. Or kill her.”
Zara looked up, eyes hard. “Then we make the next move. We don’t wait for the storm. We become it.”
Aria nodded slowly.
The time for defense was over.
It was time to strike first.
