The circle flared, dark silver light rising like mist from the carved runes.
I stepped forward.
Behind me, the distant howls of Blackfang rolled through the mountain — not a welcome.
A warning.
And this time, I didn’t run from it.
The Moon-root bled when I touched it again.
Not crimson — not silver — but a viscous shade between both, as though it could not decide which allegiance I now belonged to. The thick fluid welled from the carved veins, trickling down the root’s petrified bark to pool around my bare feet.
The scent of it made my wolf uneasy.
Blackfang elders ringed the ritual chamber, their faces shadowed beneath hoods of obsidian fur. Their howls hummed low in their throats, vibrating against the stone walls like a heartbeat not my own.
Nicero stood opposite me, stripped of his jacket, the intricate scar-lines of his past battles etched across his arms and collarbone like runic script written in flesh.
“You still have time,” he said quietly. “Once the bond seals, even the Moon Goddess will no longer recognize your former pack.”
“I lost her blessing the night my child was stolen,” I replied. “This is not about permission. It’s about survival.”
His eyes softened for a fleeting moment — then hardened again. “So be it.”
The eldest of the elders raised his staff. “Let the contract be spoken.”
The runes around the Moon-root ignited, silver-black light spiraling upward in violent ribbons. I felt the mountain breathe beneath me — ancient, massive, alive.
“Blood for blood,” Nicero intoned.
I sliced my palm without hesitation, pressing it to the bark. The Moon-root drank greedily, veins glowing brighter as my blood sank into its depths.
Nicero mirrored the motion, his blood joining mine in a darkened spiral.
“Bone for bone,” the elder continued.
Pain exploded in my shoulder as invisible pressure crushed down on my collarbone. I screamed, the sound ripped from my lungs as my wolf howled inside me. It wasn’t breaking — it was rewriting, restructuring the foundation of what I was.
Nicero staggered, teeth bared as the same force carved through him.
“Territory for territory,” the elder said.
The chamber vanished.
I was standing barefoot in the heart of Blackfang forest, roots coiling around my ankles, stars swirling violently above me. I felt Silvermoon’s presence pull at me from the east — distant, fading — while Blackfang surged up from the soil beneath my feet, dark and unyielding.