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H azel

The battlefield is a nightmare of blood and chaos. I’ve never witnessed such carnage in my life. Other than petty battles the NIghtclaws fought, I haven’t fought any of the large-scale battles. And to be honest, I didn’t know that Eldon had this many men.

No wonder it was easy to convince Damon and Nina.

I move through the bodies, blade in hand, cutting down anyone who stands in my way, but it’s not enough.

We are losing.

Eldon’s forces are relentless, their numbers greater than we predicted. The rogues fight with a wild brutality, but it’s the trained warriors—the ones Damon sent against Kieran, that must have helped him escape the Moonfang estate and probably left with him—that tip the balance.

Traitors.

They’re the real traitors. Not me!

My breath comes fast, my limbs burning with exhaustion, but I don’t stop. I can’t stop.

Because if we fall, Moonfang falls. And I have failed.

And I refuse to let that happen .

My wolf is restless, clawing beneath my skin, begging to be freed. But the seal blocks her.

Only rage drives me now. Living with this seal has been the bane of my existence, has been the only thing holding me back from being my true and free self. And now, on the battlefield, I rue it even more.

I grit my teeth, fury and desperation colliding inside me. I am stuck in this form, fighting like a human when I was born to be more.

Ahead of me, my Omegas are struggling with the swarm of rogues. They hold their own as best as they can, but they are out-manned.

Damn it.

I take a step toward them, about to give the order to retreat—to regroup—when a rogue lunges from my left.

I pivot too late.

A flash of claws and teeth. A burning pain.

I stumble back, my hand flying to my side where I’ve been cut through my armor. It’s not as deep as I thought.

The leopard shifter rogue grins, fangs bared. “Weak,” he sneers.

My vision turns red as rage erupts in me.

I move fast, my blade slicing through his throat before he can react. He gurgles, blood spilling from his lips, and I shove him aside.

Then I turn to my warriors.

“Hold the damn line,” I order, my voice sharp, unyielding. “No more protecting me. Your duty is to keep Eldon’s men away from the estate.”

They hesitate. How do they keep the line when their leader hasn’t fully shifted once in battle?

I step forward, gripping Gina by the arm, my fingers digging into her. “You follow my orders, or you die.”

That gets them moving.

With renewed determination, they form tighter ranks, pushing back against the rogues.

And I?

I push forward.

If I can’t shift, if I can’t fight like the warrior I was trained to be, then I will make up for it in blood with the image of Alpha Jag’s face, Magnus’ face, driving my every strike .

I lose track of time.

I don’t know how long we fight, how long I cut down enemy after enemy, how long I ignore the pain blooming in my side, the exhaustion dragging at my limbs.

All I know is that we are still standing.

Barely.

Kieran is a force of nature in the distance, cutting through the battlefield like a demon, his silver wolf tearing apart anyone who stands in his way.

But Eldon’s forces keep coming.

For every rogue we kill, more take their place.

And it hits me—

We really might not win this.

The thought lodges itself in my throat, thick and choking.

No.

No.

We can’t lose.

We won’t lose.

Not while I still breathe.

I lift my sword again, ready to charge forward—

And then—

A howl.

A deep, powerful, familiar howl.

I freeze.

The battle seems to pause around me.

And then—

A wolf leaps into view.

It’s a massive, jet-black wolf, her fur rippling, her eyes burning with an intensity I recognize instantly. It’s Ayana.

Her fangs sink into a rogue’s throat, a swift kill, before she spins, eyes locking onto mine. She wasn’t supposed to be on the front line. She’s supposed to be safe in the estate.

She lands gracefully, her powerful form is a beauty to behold.

“You’re—” My voice is hoarse, stunned.

She was a woman who had been used and discarded, stripped of everything —

And yet, here she stands, ready to fight still after everything. I’m beyond impressed by and envious of her.

She shifts mid-stride, her form melting back into her human body, blood streaked across her skin, her eyes dancing with exhilaration. “What?” she yells over the noise. “Thought I was just going to sit back like a princess while you had all the fun?”

Despite the chaos, despite the carnage, I laugh. A short, sharp sound that escapes my throat before I can stop it. “How did you even know where to find me?” I slice my sword through the air, cutting down a rogue who charges at my side.

“Sweetheart, I can recognize your scent from a mountain away.” She ducks, dodging a swipe from a warrior before snatching my dagger in the blink of an eye and driving it up into his ribs.

She pulls the blade free, flicking the blood onto the ground before flashing me another teasing smile and handing me my dagger back. “You’re doing great,” she says, speaking to the part of me she knows is bothered by the seal.

“Let’s fight.”

A rogue lunges for me, and Ayana is there before I can react, shifting back into her wolf and slamming into the enemy, sending him crashing into the mud.

I dive into the frenzy of snarls, fangs, claws, steel, and bodies colliding in a desperate, bloody dance.

My muscles scream, my breath is ragged, but I don’t stop.

I can’t stop. Every second counts. Every swing of my blade, every step I take—it all determines whether we survive or fall.

My wolf fills me with as much strength and agility as she can.

A rogue slashes at my side, and I barely dodge in time, his blade slicing through the air. He misses my ribs but slashes my arm. I spin, my sword sinking into his gut before I shove him away, but my movements are slowing.

I fall to my knees in pain, clutching the bleeding wound. I tear my hem and tie it as quickly as I can to stop the bleeding.

Ayana is fighting three at once, her wolf a blur of teeth and claws, but even she is tiring .

We are being outnumbered. My eyes are frantic, searching for my warriors, for a way out.

The rogues move in fast, cutting off our escape. Ayana snarls, her wolf bracing for impact. My heart pounds as I do the only thing I can—calculate.

There are too many.

We won’t hold them off alone.

But if we can force them into a bottleneck—if we can drive them toward the ridge where the terrain works in our favor—

I grab Ayana’s scruff, tugging her closer. “Push them left,” I command, my voice urgent. “I need them funneled into the clearing near the ridge.”

She growls in agreement before launching forward, slamming into the first rogue with all her strength.

I move with her, cutting down enemies, forcing them exactly where I want them.

But we’re still outnumbered.

And then, just as the weight of it all starts pressing down—

A deep, earth-shaking growl rips through the battlefield.

And suddenly, Kieran is here in his wolf form.

His wolf crashes into the fight with the force of a hurricane, his silver fur streaked with blood, his eyes burning. He moves like a beast unleashed, tearing through Eldon’s men with merciless precision.

He shifts the second he can and runs to me. I’m distracted for a moment by the scars on his sweaty, bloody skin. Even in the grime of battle, he still looks like a god, hand sculpted by the Goddess herself. I roll my eyes at my wolf, who is drooling at this sight.

But there's also a flutter in my belly knowing what he did. He chose me. He gave up his chance to end Eldon because I was distressed. Thinking about how his wolf was attuned to me even in a state of bloodlust makes a smile tease my lips. Here was my proof that he wasn't going to abandon me anymore.

He checks in on me, but I have to stay in the fight despite the butterflies that flutter all over my insides.

Kieran nods. He knows it’s the truth. He shifts back to his wolf. The grounds are chaos, and there’s barely any order. But I look around once more, and something clicks.

I have a plan.

“Fall back!” I shout, my voice ringing over the battlefield.

The Omegas hesitate, their bodies slick with sweat and blood, their eyes darting to me for confirmation. Kieran is also looking at me curiously.

I know the wolves are waiting to see if they should listen to me.

“You either take my command if you’re fighting under my troop or fight for another!” I yell and head in the direction of my plan.

I shove the feeling aside, taking advantage of the opening he created. Ayana and I press forward, pushing back the last of the rogues, forcing them toward the ridge, exactly where I planned.

“We hold them here,” I command, lifting my sword in the direction I’m headed. “No one gets through.”

My troop warriors move according to my orders, forming a tight formation around the last stronghold before the estate.

Kieran understands the trap I’m setting.

And he falls into place without question.

It’s the first time we’ve ever fought side by side.

The first time we move as one.

And Goddess, it works.

Kieran’s warriors see it, recognize the shift, and begin reinforcing the lines.

For the first time, the rogues stumble.

They realize they’re losing ground.

The battle turns.

The Moonfang warriors push forward, taking advantage of the opening we’ve created, cutting down the last of Eldon’s forces.

I look around as the last of the rogues fall back and spot Eldon.

His shoulder is bloodied, his movements slower than before. His smirk is still there, but it’s forced.

I start toward him, but Kieran is already moving.

I watch as they clash, claws slicing through the air, the impact of each strike sending vibrations through the ground.

Eldon is good .

But Kieran?

Kieran is better.

Blow after blow, he drives Eldon back, his movements relentless. His Alpha wolf does not hold back against Eldon’s massive wolf, his power radiating off him in waves.

Kieran just attacks without relenting.

And this time, he means to kill.

He dives for Eldon’s throat.

But Eldon moves.

He drops low, twisting at the last second, and Kieran’s strike barely misses.

Then, a flash.

Eldon throws something.

A smoke bomb!

The battlefield erupts in a thick, choking fog. The smoke is everywhere, burning my lungs, clouding my vision.

When it clears.

Eldon is gone.

Silence falls over the battlefield.

The last of the rogues are either dead or captured.

Moonfang has won.

But Eldon has escaped.

The victory is bittersweet, but when I turn, when I see the warriors standing strong, when I see Kieran’s eyes on me—

I realize something else.

The way the Moonfang warriors are looking at me.

Not with contempt or hesitation.

But with respect.

With acceptance.

I see it in their postures, in the way some of them nod toward me. In the way Kieran looks at me.

I inhale sharply, the reality of it settling deep in my bones.

I am now Moonfang. And they see me not only as a warrior, as one of them, but now as their Luna.