Chapter 4: The Four Claim Her
Wind rushed past Ravelle's ears, a biting silver current that chilled her skin but couldn't touch the fire burning beneath it. They soared across the darkened skies, the world below a blur of forests and rivers, the occasional flicker of torchlight from traveling caravans. Titan held her with firm, steady arms, his grip both protective and possessive. The other three kept close, flanking them like a squadron of living storms.
They flew until the horizon turned gold with dawn. When at last they descended, it was onto a wide stone terrace built into the side of a crescent-shaped cliff. The air here shimmered faintly, enchanted, and humming with ancient magic. High above, the Moonspire stood tall its towers gleaming silver and carved with constellations that danced faintly in the morning light.
Ravelle barely had time to absorb it all before Titan touched down gently and released her. The others landed moments later with practiced grace.
"Welcome," Lysander said, voice quiet. "To the sanctuary of the Sovereigns."
"I thought that was a myth," she murmured, stepping forward. Her boots clicked on marble laced with starlight veins. The view stretched endlessly, revealing mountaintops rising through a bed of morning mist.
"It was a myth," Marcus said. "Until you."
Titan gave him a warning glance before turning to her. "You've earned answers. And we owe you truths."
Ravelle crossed her arms. "Start talking."
They guided her into a central hall a cathedral-like chamber carved into the cliffside. The ceilings arched high above, supported by moonstone columns. Mosaics of past Sovereigns, wolves, demons, stars, and wars adorned every inch. But at the center, a mural of a silver-haired woman glowed faintly in the morning light marked by four beasts standing behind her.
Ravelle's breath caught.
It was her.
Titan stepped forward. "Thousands of years ago, before kings ruled the realm, there was the Moon Court. Sovereigns who wielded power drawn directly from the moon's pulse. They governed the balance between magic and beast. Between man and wolf."
Lysander added, "But they were hunted. The Blood Eclipse changed everything. A civil war. Betrayal. Assassins poisoned the line of the Moon Queens."
Azrael spoke next, his voice like a blade dragged across glass. "One queen survived. She sealed her child's power. Hid her. Burned her name from the stars. That child… was you."
Ravelle took a step back, heart pounding. "And you four? Where do you fit in this story?"
Marcus smirked, his eyes glinting. "We're the rest of the myth, sweetheart."
Titan stepped into the center of the room and turned to face her. "I am Alpha of the Fangfire Clans. I command fire-born wolves hunters forged in war. My pack is vast. But my loyalty lies with you."
Lysander bowed slightly. "I am Alpha of the Silver Hollow. My line is tied to prophecy and memory. We see what others forget. We guard what others destroy."
Marcus spread his arms wide. "Alpha of the Stormfangs. Lycans born from lightning and chaos. We move faster than thought and love harder than most." He winked. "And I'm the fun one."
Azrael stayed silent. He stepped forward, slowly removing his cloak.
Underneath, his body was covered in ritual scars and black markings. Ancient, demonic. His red eyes never left hers. "Alpha of the Ashen Pact. Born in the dark. Raised in shadow. I am your blade… and your curse."
A long silence stretched.
Ravelle looked at each of them in turn. "And you were all… waiting for me?"
Lysander nodded. "We are the Lunar Bonded. Bound to serve and protect the Sovereign. Each of us carries a fragment of your power. That bond called us across time and blood."
"It called me last night," Ravelle whispered.
Titan took a step closer. "You're changing, Ravelle. The moment you awakened, the threads between us snapped tight. You'll feel us. All of us. Our pain. Our emotions. Our desires."
She shivered.
"Desires?" she echoed.
Marcus grinned. "Oh, yes."
Lysander gave him a subtle nudge with his elbow, then turned to her. "The bond is not just magical. It's emotional. Physical. Fated."
Azrael stepped forward, eyes narrowing. "And dangerous."
Ravelle met his gaze. "Why?"
"Because fate plays with knives," he said softly. "And we are all blades."
The silence that followed was deep and resonant.
She turned to the mural again, staring at the woman who looked like her only older, crowned, and surrounded by the same four men. The same symbols. The same fire in her eyes.
"This is insane," Ravelle said.
"But it's real," Titan murmured.
She turned slowly, body tense. "So what now? I rule a kingdom I've never seen? I lead wolves I've never met? I kiss you all and call it fate?"
Marcus coughed. "I mean, I'm open to that option."
Lysander rolled his eyes. Azrael said nothing.
Titan smiled. "No. What happens now is you learn. You train. You grow into what you are. We help you. We guide you. We don't expect you to trust us yet."
Ravelle sighed and leaned back against one of the pillars. The mosaic behind her shimmered faintly with silver light as if responding to her touch.
"Everything's changing," she whispered.
"You're changing," Azrael said. His voice was low now. Intimate. Dangerous.
She looked up.
He was right beside her.
His hand reached out slowly hesitating, waiting. Then he brushed his fingers against her bare arm.
Pain exploded behind her eyes.
She gasped, her back arching as visions flooded her mind
Fire.
Blood.
Screaming wolves.
A silver crown shattered.
Azrael standing over a body.
Her body.
His blade in her chest.
Ravelle screamed.
The power in the room surged moonlight bursting from her skin. The floor cracked beneath her feet. Mosaics shattered. Winds howled through the open hall.
Titan lunged. "Azrael, back!"
The demon wolf stepped away, eyes wide, face stricken.
Ravelle collapsed to her knees, panting. Her vision swam. Hands were on her Titan holding her, Lysander whispering calming words, Marcus kneeling at her side.
Azrael stood apart, fists clenched.
"She saw something," Lysander said.
"A vision," Titan growled.
"She saw me," Azrael said darkly. "Killing her."
The hall fell into stunned silence.
Ravelle's voice was raw when she finally spoke.
"It was you," she whispered. "You betrayed me."
Azrael lowers his gaze. "I already have."