The northern winds howled as the Rogue approached.
He moved like shadow through the dead forest, the ground beneath him cracking with frost. His name had been lost to time—Ashar, once an Alpha king, now a curse on every surviving bloodline.
Long ago, he had hunted the Lunari to extinction.
And now, rumor told of one still breathing—Selene.
She would be his final kill.
Or his final claim.
---
In Crimson Hollow, the air had grown heavier. Birds no longer sang at dawn. The wolves were restless. Rowan had taken to burning old runes and whispering prayers no one had used in decades.
Selene stood at the cliff's edge, wind tearing through her hair, watching the horizon like it might split open and reveal the threat she could feel crawling toward her bones.
"I know he's coming," she said.
Kael stepped up beside her, arms crossed.
"He is," he replied. "Ashar."
The name itself was sharp in the air. Selene turned to him.
"You knew?"
Kael nodded grimly. "I didn't want to believe it until Rowan confirmed the scent pattern. It's him. The butcher of the Moonlit Massacre. The one who destroyed your people."
"And he knows what I am."
"He's coming to either enslave your power—or end it forever."
Selene's jaw clenched. "Then he'll have to go through both of us."
---
Later that night, Selene trained in the sacred clearing.
Sweat glistened on her skin as she shifted between stances, blades flashing under moonlight. Kael sparred with her, matching her with brutal, intimate precision.
"Again," he ordered.
She lunged.
He caught her.
They tumbled, her back hitting the mossy ground as Kael hovered above her, breath ragged, chest heaving.
"You're holding back," he growled.
"I don't want to hurt you," she panted.
"Then you'll never survive Ashar."
Selene shoved him off with new strength, flipping their positions in a single motion. Her blade pressed lightly to his throat.
His eyes burned with pride—and desire.
"That's more like it."
Their mouths crashed together before either could speak again. The sparring turned feral—bodies slamming, lips bruising, hands grasping. She tore his shirt. He growled into her throat. And when they fell together in the grass, the world around them disappeared.
But far away, Ashar stood at the edge of Crimson Hollow's barrier, watching their energy pulse like a beacon.
He grinned.
"Found you."
---
Kael woke hours later with Selene curled against his chest. A strange scent licked the edge of his senses—one that didn't belong to the Hollow.
Ash. Death. Rotting magic.
He was up in a flash.
Selene stirred. "What is it?"
Kael growled. "We're not alone."
---
When they reached the boundary ward, it had already been torn open—split down the center like flesh.
Runes crackled, dying.
Tracks—wolf-sized, but not wolf-shaped—led deep into the Hollow.
Selene swallowed. "He's already inside."
Rowan appeared behind them, eyes hollow. "We need the old magic, Alpha. Or he'll rip through us like smoke."
Selene stepped forward. "Then teach me. Whatever power's inside me—I want to use it."
Rowan looked at her, long and searching. "It will change you. The Lunari magic is not kind. It is pure moonfire. You may not come back the same."
Kael grabbed her arm. "Selene, don't—"
She turned to him, her voice shaking, but sure.
"If I don't, we both die."
---
That night, deep in the heart of the forest, Rowan led her to the Moonroot Tree—the last living relic of the Lunari kingdom. It glowed faintly silver, its bark humming with power.
"Place your hands on the trunk," Rowan instructed. "And call it."
Selene stepped forward.
Her palms met bark.
And suddenly—light exploded.
Visions.
Wolves made of stars.
A throne of bone and moonstone.
Ashar's face—bloody, laughing, holding her mother's severed head.
She screamed.
Magic flooded her veins.
She collapsed.
---
Kael caught her.
Her eyes flickered open, glowing white.
"I know who I am," she whispered.
He stared, stunned. "Selene…"
She smiled through the pain. "I remember everything now."
---
From the ridge above them, Ashar watched.
His voice slid through the trees like oil:
"Let the games begin."
--