Chapter 10 - Into the Obsidian Wastes
The journey toward the Obsidian Wastes was a grueling test of endurance. The lush green valleys of Ravenguard quickly gave way to jagged black cliffs, frozen geysers, and howling blizzards that tore at the travelers' cloaks.
Darius rode a massive black war-horse at the head of the column, his eyes constantly scanning the white horizon. Beside him, Eloin rode a swift silver mare, her senses attuned to the subtle shifts in the mountain magic.
By the third night, the expedition reached the Valley of Whispers—a desolate canyon where the first ancestral wolves of the northern packs were said to have signed the original lunar pacts.
The wind howled through the stone pillars like a chorus of trapped spirits.
“Halt!” Darius raised a gloved hand, signaling the vanguard to stop. He dismounted instantly, his boots crunching into the deep snow. He crouched down, touching a patch of dark, discolored ice near the base of a towering stone monolith.
Eloin dismounted and walked over to him, kneeling beside the ice. She pressed her bare fingertips against the surface.
Dark, corrupted magic pulsed beneath the frost—a twisted imitation of the silver runes from the Moon Cage.
“Blood magic,” Eloin whispered, her breath turning to mist. “They’re trying to rewrite the ancestral pacts, Darius. If they succeed, they can legally challenge the legitimacy of any true mate bond in the northern territories.”
Before Darius could answer, a deafening roar echoed from the canyon walls above them.
Massive shadows detached themselves from the falling snow. Dozens of rogue northern warriors, clad in black pelts and wielding heavy obsidian-tipped axes, swarmed down the cliffsides in a coordinated ambush.
“For the true crown!” Vane roared, drawing his broadsword as the royal guard formed an impenetrable wall around the King and Luna.
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Darius didn't draw a weapon. His eyes flashed a brilliant, luminous silver-gold as his inner wolf broke free. A shockwave of pure alpha dominance erupted from his chest, knocking the front line of attackers flat into the snowbanks.
Eloin stood tall amidst the chaos, raising her hands as starlight gathered around her fingertips, ready to defend the sacred valley.
