The palace bells never rang at night.
That's why, when they did, every bone in my body turned to ice.
I was on the terrace, breathing in the cold air, trying to slow my pulse after another vision-drenched dream. The stars were unusually still, like they too sensed something approaching.
Then came the sound.
Dull. Hollow. Bone-deep.
The bells tolled once.
Twice.
Three times.
Invasion protocol.
I didn't wait. I sprinted toward the lower hall, magic humming beneath my skin. A pulse of fire sparked from my hands as I summoned my inner power — no longer afraid of the heat, no longer resisting the wolf.
Lucien was already in the war corridor, armor half-strapped, sword at his back, barking orders to the guards. His eyes locked on mine.
"They're here," he said darkly.
"Who?"
"We don't know. But they're inside the gates."
---
Cain rushed into the chamber, blood staining his gauntlet.
"They didn't come through the walls," he spat. "They shadowed in."
I froze.
Shadow-walking was forbidden magic — the kind used only by the Council's deadliest agents. It allowed a warrior to phase through wards, walls, even minds.
"How many?" Lucien demanded.
"One."
Cain hesitated.
"One?" I repeated.
"That's all it took."
---
Before we could process it, a guard came flying down the corridor, thrown by invisible force. His back hit the stone so hard I heard his ribs break.
A dark mist slithered in behind him, curling up the walls like a living thing. The temperature dropped. Magic rippled like broken glass.
The mist formed a shape.
Seven feet tall. Cloaked in black flame. Eyes like burned coals. No scent. No soul.
"Shadowbeast," Maera breathed beside me.
Even Lucien went still.
---
"Celia," he growled. "You stay behind me."
"No."
"You're still recovering—"
I stepped forward. My palms glowed, and the mark on my back flared with a heat that licked my spine.
"She came for me," I said. "Let me answer."
The Shadowbeast lunged.
Faster than light.
Lucien moved in an instant — intercepting the blow with his blade, the steel ringing with a metallic scream.
Cain drew a second weapon, diving into the fray. Maera muttered a ward, casting light sigils around the chamber.
I raised my hand. Fire crackled to life.
Then — it struck me.
A searing blast of darkness slammed into my chest, sending me backward into the wall. Pain exploded through my ribcage. My vision dimmed.
> Now, my wolf whispered. Let me take you.
---
I gave in.
The shift ripped through me, not like water but like wildfire.
Bones popped. Skin stretched. Magic detonated inside me like a sun waking from sleep.
I screamed.
Not in pain — in release.
My limbs elongated. Fur spread across my arms. My claws extended, razor-sharp and glowing red. My eyes blazed silver-gold.
My wolf emerged — fully, gloriously, completely.
Lucien turned just in time to see me land between him and the Shadowbeast.
"Celia—" he gasped.
But I didn't hear him.
I heard her — my wolf — speaking through my mouth, our voices fused.
> "I am not prey. I am flameborn. Daughter of prophecy. And this is my howl."
---
I attacked.
The Shadowbeast recoiled. My claws tore through its mist-like form, searing its magic. It shrieked, flailing backward, the dark fire unraveling with each strike.
But then it lashed out.
A shadow tendril speared toward Lucien.
He didn't see it.
I did.
And I leapt — not as Celia, but as something more.
The tendril stabbed into my side.
I howled.
Lucien caught me as I collapsed.
"Celia—"
"I'm fine," I hissed.
The wound bled black — not blood, but cursed magic.
Maera shouted a counter-curse, Cain threw his blade, and the Shadowbeast faltered.
Lucien finished it.
His blade, glowing with my fire, pierced the beast's center.
It screeched.
And exploded into ash.
---
The silence after was deafening.
Smoke filled the corridor. Rubble littered the ground. Guards rushed in from every direction.
I shifted back — slowly, painfully — into my human form.
Lucien held me as I trembled.
"You shouldn't have done that," he whispered.
"I had to," I replied. "She wasn't going to let me hide."
Maera approached, eyes wide. "That wasn't a normal Shadowbeast. It was branded. Personal. That means the Council didn't just send a warning."
"They sent a killer," Cain muttered. "One they knew couldn't be tracked."
Lucien clenched his fists.
"They failed."
---
But not without cost.
Hours later, I found Isolde in the lower chamber.
She was dying.
The Shadowbeast had torn through a lower corridor on its way in. She'd intercepted it — alone — and stalled it long enough for the rest of us to mobilize.
Her ribs were shattered. Her lungs had collapsed. She was still trying to sit up.
"Don't," I whispered, kneeling beside her.
"You rose," she said, smiling faintly. "You called the fire."
"I wouldn't have… without you."
She placed her bloodied fingers on my forehead. "You're ready now. But the path ahead is darker than you know."
I squeezed her hand. "Don't go."
"Wolves don't die," she whispered. "We become the storm."
And with that… she was gone.
---
The palace mourned.
Lucien burned her body on a pyre lit with royal fire.
Wolves howled from every tower.
And I stood beside him, wrapped in black silk, my mark glowing faintly beneath the veil.
"She was your mentor," he said.
"She was my shield," I replied.
Lucien took my hand.
"Then let me be your sword."
---
That night, I lit a candle for her and left it in the old eastern chamber — the one with my mother's mirror.
I whispered a promise:
"I will not let them take me. Or the child. Or this kingdom."
Then I turned.
And saw the mirror ripple.
This time, the reflection wasn't my mother.
It was me.
Older. Blood on my face. A crown of ash on my head.
And in my arms — a child with silver eyes.
> "When fire rules the moon, love will either save the world… or burn it down."