The gates slammed shut with a metallic echo that vibrated through Aria's bones.
Ronan's wolves scrambled to reinforce the locks, their movements sharp with urgency. The torches flickered wildly in the wind, casting frantic shadows across the walls.
Ronan, however, stood perfectly still.
He stared at the place where the stranger had vanished into the snow, his jaw clenched tight, his breath slow and controlled. But Aria felt it—just beneath his calm surface—an undercurrent of unease. Of fear.
For her.
He finally turned toward her. "Let's go. Now."
Aria's heart raced, but she nodded. She followed as he guided her down the stone steps from the wall, his hand firm around hers. Not gentle. Protective.
The moment they stepped inside the fortress again, Ronan released her hand only long enough to pull her into a smaller hallway, away from the watching eyes of the pack.
"Are you hurt?" he asked suddenly.
"No," Aria said breathlessly. "Just… shaken."
Ronan's eyes flashed, a storm behind them. "Good. Because I swear, if that stranger had taken one more step toward you—"
His voice cut off, as if he was restraining something dangerous.
Aria touched her wrist, feeling the faint pulse beneath her skin.
"He said he was Moonborn too."
Ronan's expression darkened instantly. "He claims to be."
"You don't believe him?"
Ronan exhaled sharply. "Moonborn were hunted to extinction. No one has seen one in over a century. Then suddenly you awaken… and he appears out of nowhere? Convenient."
Aria frowned. "But he knew things. About my mark. My awakening."
"He knew enough to unsettle you," Ronan said. "And maybe that was his goal."
Aria opened her mouth to protest, but Ronan stepped closer, lowering his voice.
"Aria, don't trust him. You don't know who he is, where he came from, or what he wants. Moonborn blood is powerful. Too powerful. And power attracts both allies… and monsters."
Aria swallowed, her heart thudding. "But he didn't attack us."
"No," Ronan said. "But he wanted something else."
"What?"
Ronan hesitated.
"The way he looked at you," he said finally, "wasn't curiosity. It was recognition. And that's worse."
Aria's chest tightened. "You think he knows something about me."
"I think," Ronan said quietly, "he knows too much."
⸻
The Council's Summons
A pack messenger suddenly appeared at the end of the hall, panting.
"Alpha," he said, bowing quickly, "the council requests your presence immediately. They want answers about the intruder."
Ronan's jaw clenched. "Of course they do."
The messenger hesitated. "They also want the girl."
Aria stiffened.
Ronan's voice dropped a dangerous octave. "No."
The messenger swallowed. "Alpha, they insist—"
"She is not to be questioned right now," Ronan snapped. "Tell them she stays with me."
"But—"
"Tell them."
The messenger bowed and fled.
Aria stared at Ronan. "Won't refusing them cause trouble?"
"It already has," Ronan muttered. "But you're not dealing with them until I understand what's happening."
He started walking again, motioning for her to follow. Aria quickened her pace.
"Where are we going?" she asked.
"To the Moonfire Hall," Ronan said.
Aria blinked. "The what?"
"You're safer there than anywhere in the fortress. The walls are lined with ancestral runes. No wolf, no matter how strong, can force their way in."
That didn't ease her nerves as much as he probably hoped it would.
"Why would I need a room that secure?" she asked quietly.
Ronan didn't slow.
"Because your awakening isn't complete," he said. "And until it is, any powerful wolf could sense your presence like a beacon. Including those with bad intentions."
Aria swallowed hard.
"Like the stranger."
Ronan didn't answer.
He didn't have to.
⸻
The Moonfire Hall
They reached a heavy stone door carved with swirling patterns that glowed faintly blue, like frozen lightning trapped in the rock.
Ronan pressed his palm against the center rune. The door responded with a soft hum and swung open.
Warm, gold-tinted light filled the room inside. The Moonfire Hall wasn't grand; it was… serene. A circular chamber with walls etched in ancient designs, soft furs layered over the floor, and tall candles burning with steady flames that didn't flicker despite the draft.
"Sit," Ronan said gently, gesturing to a bench along the wall.
Aria complied, trying to calm her racing heart. Ronan paced before her, arms crossed, eyes distant.
"Tell me everything you felt when he appeared," he said.
Aria hesitated. "My wrist… pulsed. Strongly. Like when the rogues attacked… but different. Familiar, almost."
Ronan's head snapped toward her. "Familiar how?"
She shook her head helplessly. "I don't know. Like… my body recognized him before I did. Like something inside me…"
"Responded?" he finished.
Aria nodded.
Ronan turned away, hands tightening into fists.
"Unacceptable."
"Ronan—"
"This complicates everything," he said sharply. "A second Moonborn? We can't trust his intentions. He came straight to Frostfall. Straight to you. Nothing about that is coincidence."
Aria rubbed her temples. "Why would he want me?"
Ronan turned back, and for the first time since they met, Aria saw fear in his eyes.
"Because you are the only Moonborn with a full awakening mark," he whispered. "Your bloodline is incredibly rare… and incredibly valuable. Power like that could tip the balance of the entire wolf world."
Aria's breath hitched. "But I don't want power!"
"Power doesn't care what you want," Ronan said quietly. "But enemies do."
The room felt suddenly smaller. Warmer. Claustrophobic.
"Ronan," she whispered, "are you scared for me? Or of me?"
He froze.
Then slowly, he walked toward her and knelt in front of her so they were eye level.
"I am terrified," he said softly, "of what the world will do to you if I fail to protect you."
Her heartbeat fluttered.
"But I am not afraid of you," he continued. "You didn't choose this fate. You didn't create this danger. And you are not responsible for the actions of others."
Aria blinked hard, emotion tightening her throat.
He lifted a hand — slowly, giving her time to pull away — and brushed a stray strand of hair behind her ear.
"You are not a weapon," he whispered. "You are a person. And I will not let anyone treat you otherwise."
Her breath trembled.
"Ronan…" she whispered.
Before either of them could say more, the torches in the room flickered violently.
A chill swept through the hall.
Ronan jumped to his feet instantly, scanning the room.
"What was that?" Aria asked, heart pounding.
"The runes reacted," Ronan muttered. "Something just crossed the fortress boundary again."
Aria's blood went cold. "Another intruder?!"
"No." Ronan's eyes widened. "Something else."
The runes on the wall flared with bright silver light.
Aria clutched her wrist — the mark throbbed in perfect sync.
Ronan rushed to her side.
"Aria, what do you feel?"
She gasped. "I don't know — pressure — like something is calling me—"
Her mark flared white-hot.
The torches blew out.
Darkness swallowed the hall.
Ronan grabbed her shoulders.
"Aria! Stay with me!"
But the mark burned brighter, pulsing wildly beneath her skin.
Aria cried out as a vision slammed into her mind —
a flash of a woman with silver hair, a moonlit throne, wolves bowing, blood on snow, an ancient crown shattering—
Then darkness again.
The torches reignited instantly, returning the warm glow to the hall.
Aria collapsed forward.
Ronan caught her in his arms.
"Aria!" His voice shook. "Talk to me!"
She trembled, gripping his coat. "I… I saw something. A vision. A woman… a queen maybe. Wolves everywhere. Blood. And—and something breaking—"
Ronan's breath froze.
"Moonborn prophecy," he whispered. "The visions have begun."
Aria stared up at him, trembling. "What does that mean?"
Ronan pulled her tighter against him.
"It means," he murmured, "your awakening is accelerating much faster than it should."
Her heartbeat raced.
"And it means," he added softly, "we're almost out of time."