Aria's POV
The Guardian Wolf shouldn't exist.
I know this the same way I know my own name—knowledge from my ancestors flowing through my blood. The Guardian was supposed to die when the last Moonshadow Alpha fell seventy years ago. That's what happens when the Alpha dies. The Guardian dies too.
Unless it chose not to.
"What trial?" I force the words out, even though every instinct screams at me to run. "What are you talking about?"
The massive white wolf circles me slowly, its silver eyes never blinking. The mob stays frozen on their knees, unable to move under the Guardian's power.
"You wish to sacrifice your power," the Guardian says, its voice rumbling through my chest. "To transform the curse. Noble. Brave. But foolish."
"Why is it foolish?" Anger sparks through my fear. "It's the only way to save them without giving them back the power they stole!"
"Because you don't understand what you're sacrificing." The Guardian stops directly in front of me. Up close, it's even more terrifying—teeth like daggers, claws that could rip through steel. "Your power isn't just magic, little heir. It's your birthright. Your identity. Everything your family died to protect."
"My family died because they were murdered!" I shout back. "And now everyone expects me to save the people who killed them? While I'm supposed to just... what? Forgive? Forget?"
"No." The Guardian's voice softens slightly. "I expect you to choose. But first, you must prove you understand what each choice means. That's the trial."
The world lurches sideways.
Suddenly I'm not standing in front of my grandmother's cottage anymore. I'm somewhere else—somewhere dark and cold and ancient. A cave maybe? No. A memory. I'm inside a memory.
"What's happening?" I spin around, disoriented.
"The trial of truth," the Guardian's voice echoes from everywhere and nowhere. "Watch. Learn. Then choose."
The darkness lifts, and I see them.
My ancestors. The Moonshadow family.
They're in the Grand Hall—but it looks different. Older. The stone is newer, the carvings less worn. This is seventy years ago. The night of the massacre.
I watch as Alpha Moonshadow—my great-great-grandfather—stands before the pack council. He's arguing with them about something. His voice is passionate, desperate.
"The magic isn't meant to be divided!" he shouts. "It's a sacred trust! If you break it apart, if you take it for yourselves, the balance will shatter!"
"We're stronger than you," a younger Beta Raymond snarls. Yes—it's definitely Selene's grandfather. I recognize the cruel twist of his mouth. "Why should one family control all the power? We deserve our share!"
"It's not about deserving!" A woman steps forward—she has my eyes, my face. My great-great-grandmother. "The magic chose our bloodline to protect it. To keep it safe. If you steal it, there will be consequences—"
"Is that a threat?" Alpha Blackwood—Thorne's great-grandfather—rises from his seat. He's tall and dark like Thorne, but his eyes are colder. Dead. "Because it sounds like a threat."
"It's a warning," my ancestor pleads. "Please. Don't do this. We can find another way—"
But they're not listening. I see it in their faces. They've already decided.
The attack happens fast. Brutal. Guards grab the Moonshadow Alpha and Luna. More warriors flood in, rounding up every Moonshadow they can find. Children screaming. Blood on the stones.
"No," I whisper, even though I know I can't change what already happened. "Stop. Please stop—"
My great-great-grandmother breaks free for just a moment. Long enough to slice her palm with a blade and press her bloody hand to the floor.
"By moon and blood and broken trust," she chants, her voice rising above the chaos, "I curse this theft with justice's dust. When the last heir's mate betrays her heart, let stolen power tear you apart. Three paths remain when curse awakens: forgive and lose, destroy and take, or sacrifice what can't be forsaken!"
Then a sword runs her through from behind.
She falls.
The memory fades.
I'm back in front of the cottage, gasping for air. Tears stream down my face. The Guardian watches me with ancient, knowing eyes.
"Now you see," it says quietly. "Your ancestor gave you three choices with her dying breath. But she also gave you something else. Do you know what?"
I shake my head, unable to speak.
"Hope." The Guardian steps closer. "She didn't curse the pack out of revenge. She cursed them out of love—love for you, the descendant she would never meet. She gave you the power to choose your own fate. To not be trapped by destiny or bonds or ancient debts."
"But how do I choose?" My voice cracks. "How do I know which path is right?"
"That's the trial, little moon. You must face each path. Experience what it means. Only then will you truly understand what you're choosing."
The Guardian's eyes flash silver.
The world lurches again.
And suddenly I'm standing in three different places at once—or maybe I'm splitting into three versions of myself. Each one seeing a different future.
In the first vision, I complete the mate bond with Thorne. The curse breaks. The pack lives. But I'm powerless again, and Selene is waiting in the shadows with a knife...
In the second vision, I let the curse run its course. Everyone dies screaming. I stand alone in the ruins, drunk on power, slowly going mad from isolation...
In the third vision, I sacrifice my power. The curse transforms. The pack is reborn. But something goes wrong. Something the Guardian isn't showing me. Something that makes the white wolf's eyes fill with grief.
"Wait!" I scream. "Show me the rest! What happens in the third path? What aren't you telling me?"
The visions shatter.
I'm back in my single body, gasping and shaking.
The Guardian is fading now, becoming translucent like a ghost.
"The trial is complete," it says. "You've seen the truths. Now make your choice, Aria Moonshadow. But know this—"
It leans close, and its final words freeze my blood:
"In every path, someone you love dies. The only question is: who will you sacrifice?"
Then it vanishes completely.
The mob unfreezes. Beta Raymond lunges forward with a roar.
And I have exactly three seconds to decide how this all ends.