Chapter 7 - The Cleansing of Shadow-Ridge
The main courtyard of the Lycan Citadel was a battleground of mud, fire, and blood.
Hundreds of rogue warriors from the Blood-Moon Syndicate were pushing through the shattered iron gates. Beta Cornelius and the remaining royal guards were fighting desperately, pushed back against the inner keep. The rogue leader—a massive, scarred Lycan named Malakor—stood atop a pile of rubble, throwing back his head and howling in triumph.
"The King is dead!" Malakor roared, his claws dripping with royal guard blood. "The weak heir is dead! This kingdom belongs to the Syndicate now!"
"Is that so?"
A voice echoed across the courtyard. It wasn't loud, yet it pierced through the roar of flames and the clashing of iron, ringing in the ears of every warrior on the field.
The rogue army paused, turning toward the high stone balcony overlooking the courtyard.
King Jacob stood there, his massive broadsword held low. But he wasn't leading the charge.
Beside him stood Reena.
She wore no armor. She carried no weapons. She held Prince Samuel on her hip. Yet, as she stepped to the edge of the balcony, a blinding shockwave of pristine, silver light erupted from her body, sweeping across the entire courtyard.
Every rogue wolf on the field froze.
The dark, corrupted magic that fueled their frantic rage suddenly sputtered and died. The terrifying pressure radiating from Reena forced hundreds of rogue warriors to their knees, their inner wolves whimpering in absolute terror.
"Who... who is that?!" Malakor gasped, staggering backward as the sheer weight of Reena’s aura pressed down on his shoulders like a falling mountain. "She has no wolf! She's wolfless!"
"She is your Queen," Jacob’s voice boomed across the courtyard, loud as thunder.
Reena raised her free hand. The silver light around her palm coalesced into an ancient, blinding sigil—the mark of the Celestial Sovereign.
"You came into my home," Reena said softly, her voice carrying the terrifying weight of an ancient deity. "You threatened my child."
She closed her hand into a fist.
BOOM!
A pillar of pure, silver fire descended from the night sky, striking the center of the rogue army. The magical fire didn't burn stone or flesh; it consumed only the dark, malevolent curses driving the rogues into madness. Malakor and his top lieutenants screamed as their dark magic was forcefully purged from their bodies, leaving them weak, depraved, and stripped of their wolf forms entirely.
The remaining rogue force threw down their weapons, prostrating themselves on the muddy ground, crying out for mercy.
Beta Cornelius stared up at the balcony, his jaw hanging open in sheer disbelief. The wolfless girl he had traded away like trash to clear a petty debt was standing above them all, radiating the power of a goddess.
Reena looked down at the kneeling army. "Throw them in the dungeons," she commanded the royal guards. "They will face justice tomorrow."
She turned back toward the interior of the palace, holding Samuel close.
May you like
The siege was over. The kingdom was saved.
And the wolfless girl was disposable no more.
