Chapter 3 - Unraveling the Web
The guards roughly hauled Christa to her feet, unlocking the heavy iron chains from her wrists and replacing them with thin, fragile silver threads that bound her hands loosely in front of her. They marched her toward the center of the clearing, where a massive circular glyph had been carved into the ancient stone floor. The glyph glowed with a faint, iridescent blue light under the moonlight, marking the boundaries of the sacred Moon Circle.
As Christa stepped across the threshold of the glyph, a sudden wave of intense heat washed over her skin, followed by an inexplicable surge of fierce, untamed energy deep within her bloodline. It was a sensation she had never felt before—a dormant awakening that sent shivers racing down her spine.
At the opposite end of the clearing, a heavy iron cage was dragged forward by four massive pack warriors. Within the shadows of the cage, low, guttural growls vibrated through the ground, shaking the very stones beneath Christa's feet. The midnight wolf—a creature captured deep in the forbidden northern territories, known for its sheer bloodlust and untamable ferocity—was about to be unleashed.
Luna Delira stood beside Alpha Rodri, a triumphant, wicked smirk playing across her lips. She whispered something into Rodri’s ear, and the Alpha nodded, a grim smile of satisfaction crossing his face. They believed they had won. They believed Christa would be torn to shreds within seconds, burying their secrets—and Rodri’s unwanted advances—permanently in the dirt.
Amodil stood at the edge of the circle, his arms crossed over his massive chest, his eyes never leaving Christa’s face. He gave her a microscopic nod—a single, imperceptible movement of reassurance that somehow anchored her spinning mind.
"Let the beast be released!" Elder Rothwin chanted, raising his staff high into the air.
With a deafening clang, the heavy iron gate of the cage swung wide open.
From the absolute darkness of the enclosure, a pair of glowing, crimson eyes pierced the gloom. A low, bone-chilling howl tore through the night sky, making the hair on the back of every wolf in the audience stand on end. Out stepped the midnight wolf—a massive beast easily twice the size of a normal wolf, its fur shimmering like black obsidian under the moonlight, muscles rippling beneath its thick hide with terrifying predatory grace.
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The beast didn't hesitate. It locked its crimson gaze directly onto Christa, lowered its massive head, and launched itself across the clearing in a blur of terrifying speed, its razor-sharp claws clicking rhythmically against the stone.
Christa’s instincts screamed at her to run, but her feet were rooted to the sacred glyph. She closed her eyes, bracing herself for the searing pain of the fatal blow.
