The days that followed the Blood Oath passed so fast.
Alera could feel the change both inside and out. Her senses were sharper, her strength were more focused and her connection to Kael was so electric. But it was more than a bond. Something ancient stirred beneath her skin. Like lightning waiting to strike.
Each night, she dreamed of a forest soaked in moonlight, of wolves running through shadows, of a voice calling her deeper. And every morning, she woke with her heart racing and her hands trembling.
Something was coming.
She stood now in the training arena, watching two Lycans spar in the center of the ring. Muscles rippled, claws flashed, and the crack of impact echoed through the mountainside.
"You should join them," Kael said behind her.
Alera turned, raising a brow. "I've barely had time to breathe. And you want me to wrestle beasts?"
His lips curved into the closest thing to a smile she'd seen from him. "If you are Moonborn, your body is stronger than any Lycan. You need to unlock it. Trust me."
She crossed her arms. "And what if I break something?"
Kael's silver eyes gleamed. "Then you're doing it right."
She rolled her eyes but stepped into the ring anyway.
The Lycan she was paired with, a warrior named Thorne, stood almost seven feet tall. He gave her a respectful nod, but his stance said he didn't plan to go easy.
"Don't hold back," she warned.
His smirk was short-lived.
The fight began.
Thorne lunged so fast, brutal. Alera ducked under his swipe, spun, and delivered a sharp elbow to his ribs. He grunted but didn't stop. He came again, this time with more force, but something inside her had awakened.
Her wolf.
She moved with fluid instinct, catching his arm, twisting, and flipping him over her shoulder with bone-snapping strength. He hit the ground hard, and silence followed.
Alera blinked, stunned by her own power.
Thorne groaned from the ground. "I stand corrected."
Kael watched from the sidelines, pride etched in his expression. "Good. But you're still holding back."
Alera looked at her hands. They trembled not from fear, but from the storm building beneath her skin. It buzzed along her veins like static, threatening to burst.
"Something's wrong," she whispered.
Kael stepped into the ring. "It's not wrong. It's your awakening. You're on the edge of it now."
Her pulse spiked. "I don't know what to do."
He came closer. "Don't think. Feel."
The world blurred around her as Kael placed his palm gently over her chest. "Your wolf is clawing for release. You've caged it too long. Let go, Alera."
And then something cracked.
It wasn't physical, but a release inside her. A dam breaking.
She cried out as heat tore through her body. Her bones shifted. Her vision sharpened. And her scream turned into a roar that echoed across the fortress.
The change came hard and fast fur, claws, fangs. But it was different than anything she'd seen. Her form wasn't that of a normal wolf. She stood taller, silver-white fur glowing, eyes blazing gold. Her presence filled the arena like a storm made flesh.
Every Lycan dropped to one knee.
Even Kael.
Alera stood in the center, her breath heaving, the earth humming beneath her paws.
She was Moonborn.
The transformation faded slowly. Her body returned to its human form, skin slick with sweat, muscles aching. Kael offered a cloak, wrapping it around her shoulders.
"You were magnificent," he said, voice low.
Alera could barely stand. "That... was me?"
He nodded. "Your true form. The blood of the first wolves. The power of the moon."
She looked around. Everyone stared at her with awe—and fear.
"I don't want to be worshipped," she whispered.
Kael's eyes softened. "You won't be. But they will follow you. Because you are the storm they've been waiting for."
That night, Alera stood on the high balcony of the fortress, staring at the moon. Her body still ached, but it was the ache of rebirth, not defeat.
Kael joined her, silent for a moment.
"You've seen what you are," he said.
"I don't feel ready," she admitted.
"No one ever does. But you are not alone, Alera."
She turned to him, searching his eyes. "Do you really believe I can do this?"
His hand brushed hers. "You were born to."
There was silence. Then:
"Do you regret the bond?" she asked.
Kael's expression darkened not in anger, but in memory. "No. But I fear it."
"Why?"
"Because bonds like ours are rare. And fate is cruel."
Alera didn't know what to say. So instead, she stepped closer. "Then we fight fate."
Kael smiled faintly. "We will."
Suddenly, a horn sounded in the distance. Urgent. Alarming.
Kael's body tensed. "To the gates."
Alera followed him through the corridors, warriors falling into formation around them. When they reached the gates, a scout approached, breathless.
"My king, we found them. Rogues. Dozens. Massing at the outer borders. And they're not alone."
Kael's jaw clenched. "Who else?"
The scout swallowed. "A Hunter. One of the Council's."
Alera felt the chill slide down her spine. The Council had sent enforcers now.
"This isn't just survival anymore," Kael said grimly. "It's war."
And standing in the center of it, whether she liked it or not, was Alera.
The Moonborn.