The first rays of dawn crept across the kingdom like hesitant fingers, touching the edges of the burned clearing where Gonzalo lay. The once brilliant Alpha, the unshaken warrior of the Pack, now looked like a shadow of himself — pale, drenched in cold sweat, his skin glowing faintly where the Moon Goddess's wrath had struck him.
Nyssa knelt beside him, her lips trembling as she pressed herbs soaked in moonwater to the wound across his chest. The mark pulsed like molten silver — alive, burning, unhealable. The smell of scorched flesh and magic filled the air.
His breathing came ragged. Every inhale was a war.
"Stay with us, Gonzalo," Nyssa whispered, her hands shaking as she worked. "Don't let her take you."
His eyes flickered open for a second, unfocused. "The moon…was angry," he rasped, blood trailing down his mouth. "She said… the balance was broken."
Nyssa pressed harder against the wound. "Don't speak. Please."
He ignored her. "Liora… where is she?"
