"Sometimes the only way to survive history… is to burn it."
---
Tarvax trembled beneath the feet of its new queen.
Selene stood atop a war tower made of saltstone and bone, her silver gauntlet dimming with fading divine light. Below her, the Drowned Wargs knelt in a frozen tide of obedience—feral and bound, yet loyal.
Too loyal.
Their devotion didn't feel like reverence.
It felt like fear.
> And she didn't know if they feared her… or the gods inside her.
---
Kai sat on the edge of a shattered column, his hands shaking, a fresh sigil branded over his heart like a wound refusing to heal. Every heartbeat echoed Varok's laughter inside his skull.
> "You carry him now," Selene said gently, approaching.
Kai looked up. His eyes glinted with fire and something darker—self-loathing.
"He's in me. I feel him whispering. He wants me to hurt you. Wants me to turn."
Selene knelt.
"You won't."
"You don't know that."
She did something she hadn't done in weeks—maybe ever.
> She kissed him.
Not like a lover.
Not like a queen.
But like a human clinging to what made her still real.
It wasn't gentle. It wasn't clean. It tasted like ash and regret.
But it held him together.
His breathing slowed. The voice quieted.
Even the curse mark hissed and dimmed.
> "As long as you're with me," she whispered against his lips, "Varok will never win."
---
Nyra watched from above.
The Crown of Bone dug deeper into her skull, whispering sweet blasphemies.
She turned to Riven, who leaned heavily on a crutch of vines, breath ragged.
"You should stop staring. It's pathetic."
Riven gave a tired smile. "He was yours once, wasn't he?"
Nyra didn't answer.
Because the truth was worse.
> He wasn't hers.
But he could've been.
If Selene hadn't stolen everything.
---
That night, as storm winds swept over the ruins, Selene gathered them in the sanctum.
They needed answers.
The gods were waking.
Secrets were spilling.
And too many bloodlines were lying.
She took the scrolls Kai had found and laid them bare across the obsidian table. Etchings showed ancient lineages—hybrid markings, divine symbols, forgotten royal seals.
Kai leaned in, eyes wide.
> "This… is my mother's crest."
"And this one," Selene added, "is mine."
Nyra's breath hitched.
Because together…
They formed a sigil of union.
A mark not just of bloodlines—but of a bonded curse.
Selene and Kai weren't just packmates.
They were chosen. Bound by a curse older than gods.
A curse meant to awaken the ancient ones when the "Two-Blooded Howls" met.
> And now they had.
---
Far below the sanctum…
A heartbeat began to echo.
From beneath the ruins.
Beneath the drowned catacombs.
Where no one had walked in millennia.
Something woke.
Something angry.
Something… betrayed.
---
Above, thunder cracked.
A shadow pierced the clouds—massive, winged, cloaked in blue flame.
It was him.
The Alpha Selene thought she'd forgotten.
He landed in silence.
His face wore no age, but his eyes held eternity.
> "Hello, Selene."
The others raised weapons, fangs, flame.
She didn't move.
Her voice trembled—not with fear, but memory.
"…Xarion."
---
Xarion.
The First Flame.
The original Blood Howl.
The one who burned the sky to save the Moon Queen.
The one who died to protect Selene in a past she never remembered…
Until now.
> Because Xarion didn't die.
He was sacrificed.
By Selene.
---
"I forgave you long ago," Xarion said.
"But the gods did not."
Lightning cracked behind him. His army stood behind him.
Not monsters. Not Wargs.
Ashborn.
Forged from fire. Sharpened by death. Loyal only to him.
And Xarion's eyes locked on Kai.
"The curse lives inside you. And now, Selene…"
He pointed.
"You have to choose. Him… or the world."