Chapter 158

Chapter 158: Chapter 158

The palace was in chaos.

Guards rushed through the corridors, their boots pounding against the stone floors. Messengers were dispatched to every corner of the realm, carrying news that no one wanted to hear: Lord Varek Astrlyn had escaped from prison. The traitor was free.

King Aldric Thornridge stood in the council chamber, his face a mask of cold fury. The advisors and military commanders who surrounded him had never seen him this angry—not when the Moonblood heir was accused of murder, not when his own son was struck down by a poisoned arrow, not even when the realm began to fall apart under the weight of the goddess’s wrath.

But this—this was different.

"How did this happen?" His voice was quiet, dangerously quiet. "How did a man in a maximum-security cell, surrounded by guards, simply walk out of my prison?"

The captain of the guard knelt before him, his face pale. "Your Majesty, the guards on duty have been arrested. They’ve confessed to accepting bribes. They were paid to look the other way."

"Paid by whom?"

"We don’t know yet. The money was delivered anonymously. But the guards mentioned a name—Elias Nightveil."

The King’s jaw tightened. "Elias. Varek’s son. The one who was supposed to be under investigation."

"He’s gone, Your Majesty. He fled with Varek. So did several others—Xavier Reid, Nikolai Voss, and three guards who were loyal to the Astrlyn pack."

The King turned to face the window, staring out at the dark sky. The moon was still absent, still hidden, still punishing them for their failures. "And Soren? My son?"

"He led the interception attempt. He and his allies fought bravely, but Varek’s forces were too many. They escaped through the tunnels beneath the prison."

The King closed his eyes. Soren, he thought. You tried. You did everything you could.

"Send word to every pack," he said, his voice hard. "Varek Astrlyn is a fugitive. He is to be captured on sight. Anyone who harbors him will face the same fate as him—execution."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

"And double the guard on the palace. On my family. On everyone who might be a target." He paused. "Varek will want revenge. He’ll come for us. We need to be ready."

The advisors nodded and hurried to carry out his orders. The King stood alone in the chamber, the weight of his kingdom pressing down on him.

Where are you, Varek? he thought. What are you planning?

In the dark forests beyond the palace city, Varek Astrlyn stood among his followers.

The night was cold, the air thick with the scent of pine and damp earth. They had been running for hours, putting as much distance as possible between themselves and the palace. Now they had stopped in a small clearing, hidden from the main roads, safe for the moment.

Varek’s body still ached from the curse the seer had placed on him. His veins burned with a strange fire, and his head pounded with every heartbeat. But he was alive. He was free. And that was all that mattered.

"My lord," Elias said, approaching with a waterskin. "You should rest. We have a long journey ahead."

"Rest?" Varek laughed—a hollow, bitter sound. "I’ve been resting for weeks in that cell. I’ve had enough rest to last a lifetime."

He took the waterskin and drank deeply, the cool water soothing his parched throat. Around him, his followers gathered—Elias, Xavier, Nikolai, and the three guards who had remained loyal. They were a small force, but they were enough. For now.

"What’s the plan?" Xavier asked. "We can’t stay in the realm. Every pack will be hunting us."

"We won’t stay in the realm," Varek said. "We’ll go where no one will follow."

"And where is that?"

Varek smiled—a cold, cruel expression. "The Shadowwood. Morgath’s domain."

The name sent a ripple of unease through the group. The Shadowwood was a place of dark magic and ancient evil, a place that even the bravest wolves avoided. But Varek knew it was their only hope.

"Morgath has been my ally for years," he continued. "She gave me the poison that killed my brother and his brat of a son. She helped me orchestrate the assassination at the showcase. She will help us now."

"And what does she want in return?"

"Nothing more than what I’ve already promised. The destruction of the Moonblood line. The fall of the Seven Packs. A new order, with me on the throne and her as my advisor."

Elias nodded slowly. "Then we go to the Shadowwood."

"We go to the Shadowwood," Varek agreed. "And from there, we plan our revenge."

In the Moon Court, Nyra sat alone in her room, her legs crossed, her eyes closed.

She had been training for days now, pushing herself to the limits of her endurance. The trainer had taught her the basics—how to summon the light, how to shape it, how to direct it. But she still couldn’t control it fully. Not yet.

Focus, she told herself. Feel the power. Don’t fight it. Let it flow.

The silver light pulsed beneath her skin, warm and familiar. She took a deep breath and let it rise, filling her body, her mind, her soul. The room around her faded away, replaced by a vast, endless darkness.

And then, a vision.

She was standing in a forest not the silver fields of the Moon Court, but a real forest, with real trees and real earth beneath her feet. The air was cold and smelled of pine. The sky was dark, the moon a pale sliver.

And there, in the distance, was a figure.

Varek.

Nyra’s breath caught. She was seeing the mortal realm. She was seeing her uncle, standing among his followers, plotting his revenge.

"The Shadowwood," Varek was saying. "Morgath’s domain. She will help us. And from there, we plan our revenge."

Nyra watched, transfixed, as the scene unfolded. She saw Elias, Xavier, Nikolai—all the people who had conspired against her. She saw the hatred in their eyes, the determination in their faces.

They’re going to the Shadowwood, she thought. They’re going to Morgath.

She tried to reach out, tried to speak, tried to warn someone—anyone—but her voice was silent. The vision was a window, not a door. She could see, but she could not interact.

The scene shifted.

She was in a village now—one of the outer villages, poor and remote. The people were sick, dying. Their crops were withered. Their livestock were dead. And in the streets, people turned on each other with a madness that chilled her to the bone.

This is what’s happening, she realized. This is what the goddess is doing to the realm.

The guilt was overwhelming. All this suffering all this death because of her. Because the Moon Goddess was punishing the realm for her death.

I have to stop this, she thought. I have to find a way back.

The vision faded, and she was in her room again, the silver light flickering around her. She was crying tears streaming down her face, her chest heaving with sobs she couldn’t control.

I’m sorry, she thought, though she didn’t know who she was apologizing to. I’m so sorry.

In the royal palace, the King sat alone in his chambers.

The seer had been summoned again her third visit in as many weeks. She stood before him now, her ancient face pale, her milky eyes wide with something that looked almost like fear.

"I’ve had another vision," she said, her voice trembling. "A terrible vision."

"Tell me."

"I saw the realm consumed by darkness. I saw the packs at war. I saw the Moon Goddess’s wrath unleashed in full." She paused. "But that wasn’t the worst of it."

"What could be worse than that?"

"I saw the Moonblood heir. She was alive—not in body, but in spirit. She was watching us from the heavens, and she was crying." The seer’s voice cracked. "She was crying because she couldn’t help us. Because she was trapped. And because—" She stopped, unable to continue.

"Because what?"

"Because if we don’t find a way to bring her back, the realm will fall. Not just suffer—fall. Completely. Irreversibly. We will cease to exist."

The King stared at her, his blood running cold. "Bring her back? She’s dead."

"Her body is dead. But her soul lives on. She is in the Moon Court, trapped by the goddess’s love and grief. And unless we find a way to return her to the mortal realm—"

"How? How do we bring back the dead?"

The seer was silent for a long moment. Then she spoke.

"There is a way. An ancient ritual—forbidden, dangerous. It requires a sacrifice. A great sacrifice. And it must be performed by someone who loves her enough to give everything."

"Who?"

"I don’t know. But the answer is closer than you think." She paused. "The prince. Soren. He is her mate. He may be the key."

The King’s hands clenched. "You’re asking me to risk my son’s life."

"I’m asking you to save the realm. And to save the girl he loves." The seer met his eyes. "The choice is yours."

In the Moon Court, Nyra dried her tears and stood up.

She had seen the mortal realm. She had seen Varek’s escape. She had seen the realm’s suffering. And she knew, with absolute certainty, that she had to find a way back.

The trainer was waiting for her in the practice hall.

"You’ve made progress," the trainer said, her silver eyes assessing. "But you’re still not ready."

"Ready for what?"

"To return."

Nyra’s heart leaped. "You know how I can return?"

The trainer was silent for a moment. "There is a way. But it comes at a great cost."

"What cost?"

"The ritual requires a sacrifice. A soul for a soul. Someone must give up their life so that you may return."

Nyra’s blood ran cold. "I won’t let anyone die for me."

"Then you will stay here forever." The trainer’s voice was gentle but firm. "The choice is yours, Nyra. But know this—the realm is dying. Every day you remain here, more people suffer. More people die. The question is not whether you can live with the cost. The question is whether you can live with the consequences of doing nothing."

Nyra stood frozen, the weight of the choice pressing down on her like a physical force.

What do I do? she thought. What do I do?

You fight, Luna said. You fight, and you find another way. You don’t let anyone die for you. You never have. And you never will.

Nyra nodded slowly. The fear was still there, the guilt, the grief. But beneath it all, something else was stirring. Something that felt almost like hope.

I’ll find another way, she thought. I’ll get back. And I’ll save the realm. No matter what it takes.

She turned to the trainer.

"Teach me more," she said. "Teach me everything. I’m not ready yet. But I will be."

The trainer smiled—a rare, warm expression.

"Then we begin."