The courtyard burned with the clash of wolves. Flames licked the stone walls, arrows streaked the night sky, and the fortress that had once stood as the seat of unity now drowned in chaos. Every howl was a wound, every scream a scar.
Seraphina stood on the battlements, her voice cutting through the carnage in waves of power, rallying Dominic's warriors even as exhaustion clawed at her chest. The gift of the siren was no endless well; every note cost her, every breath scraped her throat raw. Yet she did not falter. If she stopped, Dominic would fall.
Below, he battled Lyanna in a storm of steel and fury. They circled one another, blades flashing, wolves snapping in their eyes. Lyanna's strikes were merciless, fueled not only by ambition but by a hatred so deep it poisoned every motion. Dominic matched her with controlled brutality, every swing of his sword precise, every strike driven by the weight of his duty.
Seraphina's heart pounded. The clash of their blades was more than war—it was fate itself deciding who would claim the pack, who would stand when the fire guttered out.
And then Lyanna changed the game.
With a scream, she plunged her dagger into the earth. Shadows erupted like a living storm, snaking across the courtyard, wrapping themselves around warriors loyal to Dominic. The wolves convulsed, eyes turning black, their wills shackled in chains of darkness. Lyanna's witchcraft—ancient, forbidden—had been unleashed.
Dominic staggered, horror flashing in his eyes as his own men turned on him. "You damned yourself," he snarled, driving her back.
Lyanna laughed, her voice edged with madness. "No, brother. I freed myself. I will not let you or your witch whore drag us into ruin. This pack will kneel to me—or it will burn."
Her controlled wolves lunged at Dominic, and though he struck them down, his rage grew hollow. Every life lost was a piece of him carved away. Lyanna knew it, and she pressed harder, her blade singing, her fury endless.
Seraphina's song rose, desperate, trying to free the ensnared wolves. Some faltered, their chains breaking under her call, but the effort drained her to her knees. Blood trickled from her nose, her vision blurring. She clutched the battlement for balance, her voice cracking yet refusing to stop.
Lyanna's eyes lifted, finding her. Hatred flared, and with a flick of her wrist, the shadows surged upward, scaling the walls like serpents. They struck toward Seraphina with fanged maws of darkness.
"NO!" Dominic roared, his wolf bursting forth. He hurled himself between Lyanna and the battlements, his claws rending through shadow, his strength shattering their grip. But the distraction cost him.
Lyanna's blade pierced his side.
The courtyard froze.
Seraphina's scream split the night, her song breaking into raw anguish. Dominic staggered, blood blooming across his armor, his wolf snarling through clenched teeth. Lyanna's smile widened, triumphant, venom dripping from her voice.
"The mighty Alpha falls," she hissed, twisting the blade deeper. "And your witch will watch him bleed."
Something inside Seraphina snapped.
Her song shifted, no longer a call of hope but a weapon of vengeance. The sound tore from her like a storm, raw and feral. Windows shattered, stone cracked, wolves—friend and foe alike—fell to their knees clutching their heads. Even Lyanna faltered, her hand trembling on the hilt of her blade.
But Seraphina's fury had no aim. It spread indiscriminately, striking all in its path. Warriors screamed, blood pouring from their ears, shadows recoiling only to consume the innocent.
Dominic, gasping, staggered toward her, his voice hoarse. "Sera… stop. You'll kill them all."
She saw him, bleeding, broken, yet still reaching for her. The sight pierced through the haze of rage. She clamped her mouth shut, silencing the storm. The courtyard fell into ringing silence, broken only by the crackle of fire and the groans of the wounded.
Lyanna, though staggered, still stood. She wrenched her blade free from Dominic's side, crimson dripping from its edge. "You see?" she spat, chest heaving. "She is not salvation. She is destruction. She will tear this pack apart."
Dominic swayed, but his wolf surged, refusing to yield. With a roar that shook the walls, he lunged, claws sinking into Lyanna's throat. Her eyes widened, disbelief flickering for the first time as his teeth tore through her flesh.
She fell, choking on her own blood, her shadows unraveling into smoke. Her last words gurgled past crimson lips. "You… chose wrong…"
And then Lyanna was gone.
---
The battlefield stilled. The rebels, freed from her chains, staggered in confusion. Some wept, others fled, many dropped their weapons. Without her, the rebellion collapsed like a body robbed of its spine.
Dominic fell to one knee, his strength ebbing with his blood. Seraphina flew to him, her hands pressing against his wound, her tears mingling with the gore. "Stay with me," she begged, her voice breaking. "You can't leave me. Not now. Not ever."
His hand, heavy and trembling, rose to her cheek. "You… are my strength," he whispered, echoing the words he had spoken before. His eyes closed, his body slumping.
"No!" Seraphina screamed, her voice carrying across the courtyard. She poured her song into him, not as a weapon, not as a call, but as a plea. Her voice wrapped around his soul, weaving threads of life where blood had stolen it.
Minutes stretched into eternity. The battle forgotten, wolves gathered, watching in silence as their queen sang to her king.
And then—his chest rose.
A ragged breath tore from his lips. His eyes opened, dim but alive.
Relief crashed over Seraphina, her body shaking with sobs as she clung to him. He managed the ghost of a smile, weak but real. "I told you… I don't break easily."
---
The war was over, but its scars would never fade. The fortress was a ruin, the pack fractured. Half the wolves grieved Lyanna, despite her treachery. The other half looked to Dominic and Seraphina with reverence and fear.
That night, the council convened in what remained of the great hall. Torches burned low, casting long shadows. Dominic, though weak, stood tall, his wound bound, his wolf's strength pushing him through sheer will. Seraphina sat at his side, her hand clasped in his, her presence a pillar of unyielding support.
"We face a choice," Dominic began, his voice gravel but steady. "We can drown in the blood of betrayal, or we can rise stronger from it. Lyanna is gone, but her poison lingers. We must cleanse it—not with more death, but with unity."
A murmur rippled through the chamber. Some nodded, weary yet hopeful. Others scowled, bitterness sharp in their eyes.
Seraphina rose, her voice soft but carrying. "We cannot undo what was done. But we can choose what comes next. Lyanna sought to rule through fear. Let us lead through strength and mercy. This pack is not broken. It is reborn."
The words hung in the air, fragile as glass, yet powerful as steel. One by one, heads bowed. Not all, not yet. But enough.
---
Later, when the hall was empty and the fires dimmed, Dominic and Seraphina stood alone on the battlements. The night was quiet now, the stars glimmering like forgotten hope.
He leaned heavily on her, his body aching, but his eyes fixed on the horizon. "She was my blood," he murmured. "And I killed her."
Seraphina's hand tightened on his. "She left you no choice."
"Still," he whispered, "it was my hand."
Seraphina turned him toward her, her gaze fierce. "And it was my song that nearly destroyed us all. We both carry ghosts now. But we are not our mistakes. We are what we choose after them."
For a long moment, he searched her eyes, as if seeking an anchor in the storm. And then, slowly, he nodded.
They kissed—not in passion, but in survival, in the raw truth of two souls scarred yet unbroken.
The war was over. But the reckoning had only just begun.