Chapter 8 - The Heart of the Mountain
Kieran sprinted through the smoky corridors, leaving the battle behind him as he raced toward the deepest subterranean level of the fortress—the sacred vault where the Luna throne rested.
When he reached the heavy stone archway, the doors were already blown open.
Standing in the center of the candlelit chamber, before the glowing white throne, was Elder Rothschild. He had escaped the dungeons with the help of inside guards, and now he held a dagger pressed directly against the throat of Priestess Mara, who was bound to a stone pillar.
"Stop right there, Alpha!" Rothschild shrieked, his eyes wild with manic desperation. "Take one more step, and the old witch dies!"
Ara appeared breathless behind Kieran, sliding into the chamber. When she saw Mara, her eyes flared with white-hot fury. "Let her go, Rothschild! This is between you and me!"
Rothschild laughed, a hollow, grating sound. "It has always been about the bloodline, girl! Your mother ruined everything twenty-three years ago when she hid you away. But now, the circle is complete. With your blood spilled upon this throne, the magic will bind to the Syndicate, and we will rule every pack from the northern peaks to the southern seas!"
Rothschild raised his dagger, preparing to plunge it into Mara's chest to draw the sacrificial blood needed to corrupt the throne.
"NOW!" Kieran roared.
Instead of attacking Rothschild, Kieran didn't move an inch—because he didn't have to.
Ara’s eyes turned completely silver. She didn't cast a spell or throw a blast of energy. She simply raised her hand and clenched her fist.
Instantly, the ancient white-stone throne behind Rothschild erupted into blinding, intolerable light. Beams of pure lunar energy shot out from the carvings, wrapping around Rothschild like chains of solid starlight.
Rothschild shrieked as the light ripped the dagger from his hand, lifting him three feet off the ground.
"The throne... it rejects you," Ara whispered, her voice echoing with the authority of a thousand ancient queens.
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With a concussive flash, the starlight hurled Rothschild across the room. He slammed into the stone wall and slid unconscious to the floor, completely broken.
The vault fell silent, save for the hum of the sacred stone.
