Chapter3

The air in the cavern froze the moment the words "Black Sun" fell.

Graysham stepped forward, his gray-black fur like cast iron under the silver glow of the Moon God's Tear. Each step cracked the stone floor beneath him.

"Where did you find him?"

"The edge of Silvermoon Valley," Ella said, her voice calm. "Sixteen years ago."

"Sixteen years." Graysham repeated it, a low laugh rumbling from his chest. "Do you know what he is? Black Sun bloodline—a forbidden lineage that the seven great clans united to exterminate a thousand years ago. The Moon God's opposite. It can devour any clan's ability and turn it into its own. A hundred years ago, we ambushed his father—silver poison through the heart, his body thrown into the abyss. But the Black Sun bloodline never dies out completely. When near death, it seals itself, regresses to a cub to survive."

He looked at me.

"Wait for him to grow. Wait for him to break the seal. Wait for him to come and take everything back."

He attacked.

The Ironback Wolf King's strength was overwhelming. The first exchange: his right claw shattered both my forearms—three bones snapping at once. The second exchange: I was slammed into the stone wall, my spine absorbing the full force of the rock face, rust flooding my mouth.

The third strike—he bit the back of my neck.

The exact spot the Grayridge assassin had gone for when I was fifteen. But ten times the bite force. My cervical vertebrae groaned under the pressure; my vision began to darken.

"Son of the Black Sun? You haven't even broken the seal. So today—you die here."

"Let him go."

Ella's voice.

She had circled behind the altar during our fight. The Moon God's Tear was in her hand, silver light bleeding through her fingers, illuminating her expressionless face. Not a plea. A transaction.

"The Moon God's Tear for me. He goes with me. I'll trade three prophecies."

The cavern went quiet.

Graysham looked at her for a long time. Then glanced at the Tear on the altar. In that glance was a moment of calculation—not persuasion, but a completed account.

"Deal. Take him. Three prophecies—I'll collect when I choose."

He stepped back. I collapsed onto the stone floor, blood pouring from the wounds on my back. Graysham's smile never faded.

"She doesn't know the second half of the prophecy. But she will soon."

Ella dragged me out of Bone Dragon Hollow.

The blizzard had been waiting all night. My injuries were too severe for me to hold human form—I shifted to wolf. A black wolf twice her weight—but she didn't let go. She dragged me over two ridges; the trail of blood behind us was quickly buried by snow.

On the third ridge, she collapsed.

Exhausted.

The cost of prophecies had accumulated in her body for too long. She lay in the snow, her fingers still clutching my fur. The Moon God's Tear rolled from her open palm, landing on the snow. Silver light reflected off the swirling snowflakes; the pulse within the crystal vibrated in sync with the seal inside me—not a response, but a resonance. It knew me.

"You can't swallow it."

She was delirious, her voice fragmented.

"The prophecy says you'll die at the altar... I can't let you go..."

I froze.

Bone Dragon Hollow. The Moon God's Tear. She had come—to confirm the second half of the prophecy. The half she didn't want me to know.

I carried her on my back. A black wolf carrying the Silvermoon seer through the blizzard all night. Her face pressed against the back of my neck, her breaths growing fainter.

At dawn, she woke.

I took the Moon God's Tear from her hand.

"What's the second half of the prophecy?"

"You can't—"

I kissed her.

It wasn't a kiss. I took the Tear from her mouth.

Silver light slid down my throat.

Then my body exploded.

The transformation into adulthood lasted all night.

The Moon God's Tear burned through me, eating bone and sinew. Muscles tore from skeleton, regenerated, tore again. The Black Sun bloodline was being pulled from the cracks in the seal by the crystal's power—every nerve being reforged. My howls echoed through the valley, collapsing a distant slope of snow.

Ella knelt beside me. Holding my head, calling my name over and over.

Near dawn, I opened my eyes.

The world was different.

I could sense every werewolf's heartbeat within miles, distinguish every scent in the air and trace its source and distance. My bones were twice as heavy; power surged beneath my muscles—the Black Sun force hadn't fully broken free, but enough had seeped through the cracks.

I looked at her.

"Ella."

She stepped back.

My gaze darkened.

"You're afraid of me? I've become what you wanted me to become. A blade. A sharpened blade. Isn't that what you wanted?"

"No—"

"Don't explain." I stood. A head taller than her. Black hair to my shoulders, pupils turned pure black. "Let's go. Back to Silvermoon."

The first month. Grayridge's peace offering was rejected. The Grayridge Wolf King came in person—I threw his petition back in his face.

The first wolf king to submit was from Redsand. He brought thirty carts of treasures and a treaty, waiting two days outside Silvermoon Valley. I met him on the third morning—not to negotiate, but to inform. Informed him that Redsand territory would remain, but his army was under my command. He knelt.

The second month. Redsand and Frostbone submitted their treaties simultaneously.

The third month. All six clans bowed.

The investiture ceremony was set for Moon God Valley. Ten thousand wolves knelt. I stood before the altar, fresh and old scars crisscrossing my back. I was not the one being crowned—I was the one crowning. The new Supreme Alpha.

Selena stood beside Ella, smiling as the ceremony concluded.

"Prophetess. This Alpha of yours—what exactly is his origin?"

Ella didn't answer immediately.

Ten thousand wolves' gazes shifted from Selena to Ella. The positioning was subtle—she stood beside Selena, the Silvermoon elders behind her, me before her. Everyone waited for her answer. Before she spoke, I saw her hand clench inside her sleeve.

She looked at me for a long time.

A very long time.

Then she spoke. Her voice not loud, but every word edged with frost.

"His bloodline comes from the lowest branch of Ironback traitors. His mother was a collaborator. His father's identity remains unknown. The mongrel blood running through him is despised by all seven clans—on the wolf genealogy, it isn't even worthy of a name."

A sharp intake of breath from the gathered wolves.

"I used him because he was cheap, obedient, and wouldn't dare resist. Raising him was no different from keeping a watchdog at the gate."

The Silvermoon elders exchanged glances.

"If anyone wants him—take him. I don't care."

The last word fell.

The wind in the valley stopped. Every sound stopped.

I looked into her eyes. Silver-gray pupils. The same eyes that wiped blood from my mouth when I was six. That said "next time, go for the throat" when I was ten. That stepped back when I pinned her at twelve—not a flinch, but slowly, as if measuring distance. That opened the door to find me covered in blood at fifteen.

Sixteen years.

All of it turned into "a watchdog at the gate."

My fingers twitched. Instinctively reaching for her sleeve—sixteen years of habit, checking that she wasn't serious every time she spoke cold words.

But this time, my hand stopped midair.

Not because I confirmed anything. Because of the way she looked at me. There was no coldness in it. It was empty.

My gaze shifted from confusion to blankness, from blankness to dead stillness. I said nothing. There was no point.

I removed the Alpha badge.

I bent down. Placed it at her feet.

The sharp clang of metal on stone echoed through the valley.

"Take the Alpha. Someone of such low blood isn't fit to stand beside you."

I turned. Walked to the valley mouth. Paused for three beats.

She made no sound. Didn't follow.

I kept walking. Into the wind and snow.

A voice spoke at the valley's edge.

One complete sentence.

"Find the Moon God's altar. Push open the door. Take back everything they stole from you a thousand years ago."

I looked up.

Deep in Moon God Valley, toward the altar, a beam of silver light shot into the sky. Only I could see it.

The voice came again. Not words—a feeling. It was waiting for its master.

I stood in the snow, looking back at Moon God Valley once more. Ten thousand wolves still knelt. Her figure was half swallowed by the blizzard. Silver-gray hair blowing in the wind, she stood in place like a stone statue covered in snow.

She thought she had raised a blade.

A blade doesn't need to be cared for—only to be useful.

I turned. Walked toward the light only I could see.

A blade was going to find its own sheath.