Chapter 6 - WHISPERS OF THE FIRST PACK
The journey to the sacred Moon Spire took two days through the treacherous Frostbite Pass. Accompanied by a small, elite detachment of royal guards, Draven and Rowan rode black warhorses through narrow mountain trails shrouded in ancient mist.
That night, they made camp inside a massive cavern carved into the cliffside. A crackling fire cast long, dancing shadows against walls covered in prehistoric cave paintings depicting giant wolves howling at a double moon.
Draven wrapped a heavy wolf-pelt cloak around Rowan’s shoulders as they sat together near the flames.
"Are you afraid?" he asked softly, staring into the fire.
Rowan looked down at her hands. The markings were quiet tonight, glowing with a serene, pale blue light. "I am afraid of failing. The Moon Spire is where the First Luna received her blessing thousand years ago. What if the ancient spirits test me and find me lacking? I spent five years hiding, Draven. I chose cowardice over my destiny."
Draven reached out, taking her hands in his broad, calloused palms. "You did not choose cowardice, Rowan. You chose survival. You protected the Goddess's gift until the time was right. An arrogant woman would have marched into court and gotten herself killed. A wise woman endured the dirt so she could rise when the kingdom needed her most."
He leaned in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to her forehead. Rowan closed her eyes, letting the warmth of his presence wash over her, soothing the anxiety that had clawed at her chest for days.
"You are stronger than you know," Draven whispered against her skin. "And whatever happens at the Spire, you will not face it alone."
Suddenly, the horses outside the cavern let out panicked whinnies.
Draven stood up instantly, his hand snapping to his sword. The air inside the cave grew unnaturally heavy, thick with the stench of ozone and dark magic.
May you like
From the shadows of the cave entrance, a dozen dark figures materialized. But these were not Vance assassins—they wore the black-and-crimson armor of the Blood-Moon Syndicate, an exiled clan of rogue Alphas who had long sought to overthrow the throne.
And leading them, stepping out from behind a jagged boulder, was Beta Marcus.
