The horn's echo rolled through the fortress like a quake.
Low.
Deep.
Unnatural.
Aria's stomach dropped as the sound vibrated through the stone walls beneath her feet. She clutched Ronan's sleeve instinctively.
"Ronan… what does that signal mean?"
Ronan's expression turned to steel.
"It means Frostfall's outer border has been breached," he said. "Something powerful crossed it."
Aria's pulse hammered. "The Devourer?"
Ronan didn't answer immediately.
But the silence was answer enough.
He grabbed his cloak with one hand while taking Aria's wrist with the other.
"We're going," he said.
"Going? Where?"
"To the inner wall. It's too dangerous to stay in this room."
Aria stumbled as he pulled her into the hallway. Wolves raced past in both human and wolf form, their faces tight with fear. Doors slammed. Alarms echoed. The entire fortress was erupting into defensive formation.
"Ronan," Aria whispered, "I thought the Devourer was… a myth."
Ronan didn't slow. "It is a myth. And a monster. And a prophecy. And a threat none of us have ever faced."
Aria's legs trembled.
Her wrist pulsed again—sharp this time, like static under her skin.
Ronan noticed. His grip tightened protectively.
"Stay with me, Aria. Don't let go."
They reached the stairs that led up to the inner battlements. Snow blew inward as the outer door opened, icy wind slashing into the corridor.
Two wolves barred Ronan's way.
"Alpha, you shouldn't be here," one warned. "The creature—whatever it is—it's approaching fast."
Ronan growled. "I am the Alpha King. Move."
The wolves stepped aside without another word.
Ronan pulled Aria through the door and onto the battlements.
⸻
The First Glimpse of Darkness
The wind was vicious. Snow whipped across the night sky in thick, chaotic swirls. But beyond the wall, deeper in the forest bordering Frostfall, something was wrong.
There was movement in the trees.
Not the kind created by wind or wolves or natural predators.
A darkness pulsed between the branches—thick and cloud-like, moving with deliberate intent.
Aria's breath hitched.
It wasn't a shape.
It wasn't a beast.
It was… a presence.
Like a shadow that had learned how to breathe.
Ronan stepped in front of her, blocking her view slightly.
"Stay back," he said.
"What is it?" Aria whispered.
Ronan's eyes tracked the darkness with cold focus. "A scout. The Devourer never reveals itself fully at first. It tests the borders. It searches for weakness."
Aria swallowed. "And for me."
Ronan didn't deny it.
The shadow pulsed again—closer now. The trees bent unnaturally as something heavy drifted past them.
Sweat beaded on Aria's brow despite the cold.
"My wrist," she gasped. "It's reacting."
Ronan grabbed her hand. The mark glowed faintly, warming under his touch.
"It senses the Devourer's presence," he muttered. "Moonborn marks were created as warnings."
Another pulse—hard this time—shot through Aria's arm. She stumbled.
Ronan caught her immediately. "Aria—stay with me."
"I'm trying," she whispered.
But her vision blurred as the shadow drew nearer. Her chest tightened. Her lungs trembled.
It felt like something was trying to pull her forward—calling her name without a voice.
"Do you feel that?" Aria whispered.
Ronan nodded grimly. "It's trying to touch your mind. Resist it."
"It's so strong—"
"I know." Ronan stepped closer, pressing his forehead briefly against hers, grounding her. "Focus on me. Block everything else out."
She tried.
She really tried.
But then—
A whisper slid through her mind like a cold hand brushing her cheek.
Moonborn…
Aria jerked violently. "Ronan!"
He growled, looking back at the shadow. "It has never spoken before. This is new."
The shadow swelled, filling the treeline with something like smoke and liquid night.
A second whisper, deeper now:
I smell your blood…
Aria's knees buckled.
Ronan scooped her into his arms. "You're done watching. We're leaving."
"No—wait—" Aria gasped. "We need to warn them—"
"They already know," Ronan growled. "You feel it because you are its target."
Another pulse hit her mark—this time bright enough to cast silver across Ronan's chest.
Aria cried out. "It hurts—!"
Ronan cursed under his breath and pulled her away from the battlement wall.
But just as they turned to leave, the moon flashed overhead—
And the shadow boiled upward.
Like a storm cloud erupting into the sky.
Wolves on the wall howled in fear. Torches flickered violently. The air tasted metallic.
Ronan shielded Aria with his body. "Don't look at it!"
But she couldn't help it.
Her eyes were drawn beyond him, to the swirling vortex of darkness rising above the trees like an open maw.
A tendril of shadow stretched outward—long, thin, trembling like a searching finger.
Searching for her.
Aria gasped as cold rushed through her mind.
It felt like drowning.
Her vision went white.
Her knees gave out.
But Ronan held her before she hit the ground.
"Aria! Stay awake!"
She couldn't.
Her body trembled violently as the mark flared.
Bright—blinding—silver light burst from her wrist.
The battlement wall illuminated like molten moonfire.
Every wolf gasped.
Ronan snarled and pulled her close, putting himself between her and the shadow.
The darkness recoiled—hissing, retreating back toward the forest.
The wolves watched with wide eyes as the tendril shrank, pulling back into the mass of swirling night.
The Devourer wasn't fully here.
But it had been close enough to touch her mind.
As the shadow finally dissolved into the treeline, the oppressive weight lifted.
Aria collapsed against Ronan, shaking uncontrollably.
"Ronan," she whispered weakly, "I saw something—"
He carried her off the battlements, voice tight and urgent. "Save it until you're safe."
She clutched his coat weakly. "It wanted me…"
"I know," he said.
"It knew my name."
He stiffened. "What did it call you?"
Aria hesitated—because the voice had whispered more than her name.
It had used a title. A title she didn't understand.
"It called me…"
She swallowed, voice trembling.
"Moonbreaker."
Ronan froze.
He stopped walking entirely.
His eyes widened as the word settled into his bones.
"Moonbreaker," he repeated.
"Yes," Aria whispered. "What does it mean?"
Ronan didn't answer.
He couldn't.
Because that title was older than Frostfall itself.
And according to ancient prophecy—
The Moonbreaker could either save the world…
or destroy it.
⸻
Ronan's Fear
Ronan pushed open the door to the Moonfire Hall and laid Aria gently onto the cushioned bench. He knelt beside her, hands trembling slightly as he brushed hair from her face.
"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" he asked quietly.
Aria blinked weakly. "I didn't know it mattered."
Ronan exhaled sharply. "It matters more than anything."
The title echoed between them like thunder.
Moonbreaker.
"What does it mean?" Aria whispered.
Ronan swallowed. "It means your power isn't just Moonborn. It's something greater. Something I wasn't prepared for."
He touched her wrist again.
The mark still glowed faintly.
"And it means," Ronan said quietly, "that the Devourer isn't just hunting you."
Aria looked up at him.
"It's afraid of you."