The sea announced itself long before it came into view.
Salt rode the wind, sharp and cold, carrying the constant thunder of waves battering stone. The road narrowed into a jagged descent, black rock rising like teeth on either side as the Broken Shoals revealed themselves—cliffs fractured by ancient quakes, tidepools glowing faintly beneath a bruised sky, and banners snapping in relentless wind.
Aria felt the place immediately.
Not corrupted.
Unsettled.
Fear had seeped into the cracks and stayed there too long.
Ronan slowed beside her, his gaze sweeping the cliffs where silhouettes moved—watchers, not guards.
"They're expecting trouble," he muttered.
"They've been promised it," Aria replied softly.
At the base of the cliffs lay the Shoals' central council ground: a wide stone circle carved directly into the rock, waves crashing far below. Torches burned despite the daylight, their flames guttering blue in the sea wind.
The pack was already assembled.
They were different from Frostfall wolves—leaner, salt-scarred, many bearing ritual cuts along their arms and throats. Their Alpha stood at the circle's edge, tall and broad-shouldered, hair bound with iron clasps shaped like hooks.
Alpha Kaelor of the Broken Shoals.
His eyes locked on Aria the moment she stepped forward.
"So," he said, voice carrying easily over the sea. "The Moonbreaker arrives in flesh."
The crowd murmured.
Ronan's hackles rose. "Mind your tone."
Kaelor's gaze flicked to him briefly, unimpressed. "You brought a human into sacred territory and bound an ancient horror without consent. Tone is the least of our problems."
Aria stepped forward before Ronan could reply.
"I didn't come to claim authority," she said calmly. "I came because your pack is hurting."
Kaelor laughed—a harsh, bitter sound. "You assume much."
"I feel it," Aria replied. "Your people are fracturing. Not because of power—but because they don't know who to trust."
The Devourer stirred faintly, pleased.
Kaelor's eyes sharpened. "And you think you are the answer?"
"No," Aria said honestly. "I think I can help you find one."
That honesty slowed the murmurs—but didn't stop them.
Lyessa stepped into the circle then, her presence immediately shifting the dynamic.
"The Silver Coast vouches for her," she announced. "We have witnessed the binding firsthand."
Kaelor turned on her. "You would stake your shores on a story?"
Lyessa held his gaze. "I would stake them on a choice."
Kaelor snorted. "Easy to say when the waves don't chew your dead."
A ripple of anger passed through the Shoals wolves.
Aria felt the Devourer press harder—Yes. Anger. Let it grow.
She inhaled slowly.
"I won't ask for trust," Aria said, raising her voice just enough. "I'll ask for permission."
The murmurs stilled.
Kaelor frowned. "Permission for what?"
"To walk your territory," Aria replied. "To speak to your people. To listen. And if after that you still believe I'm a threat—then I will leave."
Ronan turned sharply. "Aria—"
She met his eyes briefly, steady through the bond.
Kaelor studied her for a long moment, sea wind tugging at his cloak.
Finally, he said, "And if my pack demands proof?"
Aria nodded once. "Then I'll give them truth."
⸻
The Trial of Voices
They didn't call it a trial.
But that's what it was.
The Shoals pack gathered closer, forming a living ring around the stone circle. Wolves stepped forward one by one—not to challenge Aria with claws, but with words.
A young woman with hollow eyes spoke first. "My brother stopped sleeping after the binding. He says something is watching him now."
An older male followed. "We fought less when the Devourer was loud. Now our arguments feel sharper."
Another voice cracked. "I feel weak without the fear. Like I don't know who I am without it."
Each confession fed the pressure.
The Devourer whispered eagerly.
They are lost without me.
Aria listened.
She didn't interrupt.
When the voices finally stilled, she spoke quietly.
"The Devourer didn't just feed on pain," she said. "It fed on certainty. Even fear can feel like stability when it's familiar."
Kaelor crossed his arms. "Then give them something else."
Aria nodded. "I will."
She stepped into the center of the circle.
Ronan stiffened, every instinct screaming—but he held back.
Aria placed her palm against the stone.
She didn't summon light.
She opened the bond's structure—just enough for others to feel it.
Not control.
Connection.
A low hum rippled through the circle.
The Shoals wolves inhaled sharply as something brushed their senses—not invasive, not commanding.
Shared presence.
A reminder of pack without domination.
Gasps rippled outward.
"What is this?" someone whispered.
"Not power," Aria said softly. "Perspective."
Kaelor's breath hitched despite himself.
The Devourer recoiled.
No—this is not fear—
Aria lifted her head, eyes luminous—not glowing.
"You don't need fear to bind you," she said. "You need responsibility to one another."
The hum faded.
Silence fell again—different now. Thoughtful. Heavy.
Kaelor stared at Aria, shaken.
Then Lyessa's voice cut through.
"Enough ceremony," she said sharply. "We are ignoring the greater risk."
All eyes turned to her.
"There are factions beyond the Shoals already calling this binding illegitimate," Lyessa continued. "They fear what comes next."
Kaelor's jaw tightened. "Let them fear."
"They won't stay afraid," Lyessa said. "They'll act."
Ronan stepped forward, eyes cold. "Then they'll answer to us."
Lyessa shook her head slowly. "Not openly. They'll undermine. Spread doubt. Frame the Moonbreaker as a destabilizer."
Aria felt it then—a spike of pressure.
Someone in the crowd recoiled suddenly, clutching their head.
A Shoals wolf screamed.
Dark veins crawled beneath his skin.
The Devourer struck—not through power—
Through panic.
Kaelor roared, shifting halfway. "Contain him!"
Ronan lunged—but Aria moved faster.
"Wait!" she shouted.
She knelt beside the convulsing wolf, hands steady despite the tremor in her chest.
"I won't fight you," she whispered to the darkness. "But you don't get to use them."
She opened the bond again—but this time, she anchored it to the pack.
Not herself.
Not Ronan.
Them.
The darkness screamed—not audibly, but violently.
The wolf convulsed once—then went still.
Alive.
The Devourer howled in rage far away.
Aria staggered, breath tearing from her lungs.
Ronan caught her instantly. "That was too much."
She leaned into him, shaking. "It won't try that again. Not here."
Kaelor stared at her, something breaking in his expression.
"You could have dominated us," he said quietly. "You didn't."
Aria met his gaze. "Because domination feeds the same hunger."
Kaelor bowed his head—deeply.
"The Broken Shoals recognize the Moonbreaker," he said. "Not as ruler. But as guardian."
A roar of mixed voices erupted—some relieved, some fearful, many unsure—but united.
The Devourer recoiled further into its chains.
⸻
The Cost of Recognition
As the crowd dispersed, Lyessa approached Aria privately, eyes hard.
"You realize what you've done," she said. "You've become visible."
Aria nodded tiredly. "I already was."
Lyessa leaned closer. "Then know this: there are councils who will not test you with words. They will try to remove you."
Ronan's voice cut in low and lethal. "Let them try."
Lyessa met his gaze without flinching. "They will."
She turned back to Aria. "You just forced the world to decide whether it wants fear… or responsibility."
Aria looked out at the sea, waves crashing endlessly against stone.
"Then I hope it chooses wisely."
Far beneath the earth, bound and furious, the Devourer listened—and began whispering to those who preferred the old certainty of fear.