Chapter 9 - The Sovereign’s Call
Time seemed to freeze.
As the massive, venom-crazed wolf hurtled through the air toward her, Evelyn stopped struggling. The panic that had gripped her chest suddenly dissolved into a strange, absolute clarity.
She remembered her mother’s voice: The moon does not cower in the dark, Evelyn. It commands it.
Instead of raising her dagger to strike, Evelyn lowered her weapon entirely. She dropped it into the snow, closed her eyes, and placed her bare palm flat against the freezing stone wall of the cliff behind her.
She reached deep down inside herself—past the fear, past the doubt, past the years of rejection—and touched the glowing warmth of the silver pendant resting against her heart.
Pulse.
A shockwave of pure, blinding silver energy erupted from Evelyn’s palm, racing instantly through the stone walls of Frostfang Pass.
The effect was instantaneous and absolute.
The moment the silver wave washed over the rampaging rogue wolves, their purple-glowing eyes flashed back to their natural amber. The black foam instantly dissolved from their jaws. The unnatural, frantic rage that had driven them into madness vanished, replaced by an overwhelming wave of sudden, profound calm.
In mid-air, the colossal alpha wolf that had been lunging at Evelyn abruptly halted its momentum. It dropped softly into the snow just inches from her boots, whimpering softly.
Then, one by one, every single rogue beast in the pass lowered its head, folding its front legs and pressing its snout directly into the snow in an act of absolute, reverent submission.
Dead silence fell over Frostfang Pass.
The guards lowered their swords, staring in stunned disbelief. Further back, Clara Vale’s triumphant smile vanished, replaced by an expression of pure, unadulterated horror as she realized what she had just witnessed.
Rowan kicked his horse forward, scrambling through the kneeling beasts until he reached Evelyn. He vaulted off his horse, dropping to his knees beside her in the snow, grabbing her shoulders with frantic urgency.
"Evelyn! Are you hurt?" he demanded, his eyes scanning her frantically for any sign of injury.
Evelyn opened her eyes, exhaling a long, steady breath. A faint, glowing silver aura still lingered softly around her fingertips.
"I'm okay, Rowan," she whispered, a small, genuine smile touching her lips. "I'm completely fine."
Rowan pulled her tightly into his arms, burying his face in her hair as a wave of immense relief washed over him. He didn't care about the assassins. He didn't care about the poisoned beasts. He only cared that she was safe.
Then, Rowan slowly stood up, keeping one protective arm wrapped securely around Evelyn’s waist. He turned his cold, razor-sharp amber gaze toward the rear of the convoy where the high councilmen and noble families had taken cover.
His eyes locked directly onto Lord Vale.
"Chancellor Vane," Rowan’s voice echoed like thunder through the mountain pass, cold enough to freeze blood.
Vane stepped forward, trembling violently, his face pale as paper. "Y-Your Majesty?"
"Search the baggage carts of House Vale," Rowan commanded, his voice dropping into a low, deadly register. "Find the remaining vials of the Blood-Moon Bane. Arrest every conspirator involved in this treason—starting with Lord Vale and his daughter."
Clara screamed as two elite royal guards grabbed her arms, dragging her screaming through the snow as she thrashed and cursed.
Rowan looked down at Evelyn, lifting her chin gently with his gloved hand.
"The storm is over," he whispered softly.
May you like
Evelyn looked up at the bright, clear sky above the towering mountain peaks, where the midday moon shone proudly alongside the sun.
"No," Evelyn smiled, her voice steady and full of quiet power. "It's just beginning."
