The den had never been so silent.
The wolves gathered, bloodied, weary, their golden eyes hollow with grief. The mountains groaned with shadow, the earth split with black fire. The end was near—everyone knew it.
Kael stood at the center, his massive frame scarred, his dreadlocks wild, his green eyes burning like stormlight.
"They will come for us tonight," he said, his voice low but unshakable. "Not tomorrow. Not at dawn. Tonight."
Murmurs rippled. Fear thickened the air. But Kael's voice cut through it like a blade.
"We have bled. We have burned. We have lost brothers, sisters, mates. But we stand. We stand because we are wolf. We stand because we are pack. And we stand because she—" His eyes turned to Aradia, his voice deepening. "—is our flame."
Every wolf turned.
Aradia stood beside him, her fire flickering golden, her body trembling but steady. She lifted her hands, fire sparking in the dark.
"I have been your curse. I have been your fear. But tonight, I am your fire. Tonight, I burn not for me. Not for Kael. For all of you. For every wolf who howls for freedom."
The pack bowed. Not in fear. In devotion.
For the first time, she was not curse.
She was Queen.