Aria clung to Ronan's coat, her breath trembling against his chest.
Her mark still throbbed, glowing faintly through the fabric of her sleeve. Ronan held her tightly, one arm around her back, one hand steadying her head as though she might collapse without him.
"Easy," he murmured, voice deep and low. "Breathe. I've got you."
Aria forced her lungs to work. Her vision was still blurred at the edges from the intense flash. The woman… the throne… the blood on snow…
It felt too real to be just a dream.
Ronan pulled back just enough to look at her face. "Tell me everything you saw."
Aria swallowed, her throat tight. "I—I don't know where to start."
"Start anywhere," he said gently.
She closed her eyes. "There was a woman. Her hair was silver — not gray, not white. Silver like moonlight. She stood on a high throne carved from stone. Wolves bowed to her. Powerful wolves. She… she felt important."
Ronan's expression tightened.
"She is important," he murmured. "More than you know."
Aria's heart pounded faintly. "You know her?"
He hesitated. "Not personally. But if your vision showed a silver-haired woman on a moon throne…" His voice dropped. "Then you saw the First Luna."
Aria shivered. "Who is that?"
Ronan sat beside her on the bench, his posture straight, protective presence filling the room.
"The First Luna was the origin of all Moonborn," he explained softly. "The first and only wolf blessed directly by the Moon Goddess with the power to calm storms, command packs, and unify the wild tribes. She lived over a thousand years ago. Her bloodline vanished… or so everyone believed."
Aria's breath caught.
"But the visions," Ronan continued, "only appear to a true descendant of her line."
Her fingers went numb. "So… I'm descended from her?"
"It is the most likely conclusion," he said.
Aria shook her head slowly. "No. That can't be right. I grew up in a normal house. My parents were normal people. No crowns or powers or… anything."
Ronan's gaze softened, aching. "Your human family may never have known. Moonborn blood can lie dormant for generations."
Her mind spun. "But why now? Why me? Why would the mark awaken now?"
Ronan exhaled. "That is what worries me."
Aria's stomach tightened. "Why?"
"Because Moonborn visions are not random," Ronan whispered. "They happen only when the balance of power is about to break."
Aria's pulse raced. "What kind of break?"
Ronan didn't answer immediately.
He looked at the glowing runes on the wall, his jaw tightening. "Something ancient is stirring. The rogues… the stranger… and now your vision. They're connected."
Aria rubbed her wrist. "The vision wasn't just the First Luna. I also saw a crown being shattered… and snow stained with blood."
Ronan stiffened. "Describe the crown."
"It was silver," Aria whispered. "And shaped like a crescent moon. But then — it cracked. Completely."
Ronan went completely still.
"Ronan…?" she said softly.
He stared at her, eyes clouded with something heavy — dread, she realized.
"That is the Crest of Dominion," he said quietly. "The First Luna's crown. The symbol of unity between wolves."
Aria swallowed. "And I saw it… break."
He dragged a hand through his hair — a rare sign of frustration. "If the Crest breaks, it symbolizes a shattering of peace. A fracture in leadership. Perhaps even a war."
Aria felt her throat tighten. "Because of me?"
Ronan reached out, gripping her hand quickly.
"No," he said firmly. "Not because of you. Because of what others will try to do with you."
Aria's eyes stung. "I don't understand any of this."
Ronan softened. "You don't have to understand yet. You just need to trust me."
"I do," she whispered.
Something unspoken passed between them — quiet, intense.
But the moment broke when the runes shimmered again, glowing faint blue.
Ronan stood instantly. "Someone is approaching the Moonfire Hall."
Aria tensed. "Who?"
He stepped in front of her. "Stay behind me."
The heavy door creaked open.
Aria's heart leapt — but it wasn't another stranger.
It was Lyra.
She strode in confidently, her silver-blonde hair braided tightly down her back, green eyes sharp and shining with barely concealed irritation.
"Alpha," she said, bowing slightly. "The council grows restless. They demand answers."
Ronan's mood shifted instantly — colder, stern. "I'll speak with them when I'm ready."
Lyra's gaze slid to Aria, and something sour simmered there.
"I'm sure they'd feel much better knowing why you hid a Moonborn girl in the sacred hall."
Aria bristled but said nothing.
Ronan stepped forward. "Aria's safety is my priority. The hall is the safest place for her."
Lyra folded her arms. "Is it her safety you care about… or something else?"
Aria's breath hitched.
Ronan's voice lowered dangerously. "Be very careful with your words, Lyra."
Lyra's jaw clenched. "The pack deserves transparency. They can sense her power. They can feel her awakening. And now an intruder appears claiming to be Moonborn too? You expect your own warriors not to question that?"
Aria looked at the ground, shame burning her cheeks.
Ronan moved closer, blocking Lyra's harsh stare. "This situation is complex. Aria is not the enemy."
Lyra scoffed. "Then what is she? A lost human? A Moonborn heir? Your destined mate? Because the pack is already whispering all three."
Aria's heart stumbled painfully.
Ronan's expression didn't change — but Aria felt his tension through the bond.
Lyra stepped closer to Ronan, ignoring Aria entirely.
"You are the Alpha King. You can't allow one girl to destabilize the entire fortress."
Ronan's voice was icy. "She isn't destabilizing anything. You're projecting your own insecurities onto her."
Lyra's nostrils flared. "My insecurities?"
"Yes," Ronan said simply.
Lyra glared at him, hurt flickering beneath her anger.
"I've stood by your side for years," she whispered. "And now you throw your loyalty at someone who doesn't even understand what she is."
Aria opened her mouth to say something, but Ronan beat her to it.
"Lyra," he said sharply, "enough."
Silence.
"Leave us," he added.
Her jaw tightened. She bowed stiffly.
"As you command, Alpha."
She turned sharply and exited the hall, her boots echoing down the corridor.
Aria exhaled shakily. "She hates me."
"No," Ronan said. "She hates the threat she thinks you represent."
Aria frowned. "Which is what?"
Ronan met her eyes. "Change."
Her breath caught.
"But change doesn't have to be destructive," he continued softly. "Even if the pack fears it."
Aria hugged herself. "I don't know how to be what they want."
"You're not here to be what they want," Ronan said. "You're here because fate put you here."
"Fate," Aria whispered. "This bond. The visions. All of this… it's too much."
Ronan stepped closer, gently lifting her chin.
"You are stronger than you think," he said. "And you are not alone in this. Not anymore."
A warmth spread through her chest — not from the fire, but from his voice, the closeness, the certainty in his eyes.
"Ronan…" she breathed.
Before either of them could say more, a loud knock shook the door.
Ronan stiffened. "What now?"
A messenger's voice came through the wood.
"Alpha Ronan — the council demands your presence immediately. The intruder has returned."
Aria gasped.
Ronan growled low. "He dares come back?"
"He is waiting at the gates," the messenger said nervously. "And he requests to speak with both you… and the Moonborn girl."
Aria's blood ran cold.
Ronan turned to her, eyes shadowed with worry and determination.
"You're not meeting him alone," he said. "And you're not stepping one foot outside my protection."
Aria nodded shakily. "I know."
He extended his hand.
"Come," he murmured. "Let's end this."
She placed her hand in his —
And felt the mark pulse in answer.
Together, they walked into the danger waiting in the snow.