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Chapter 3: The Reborn

Whoosh!”

A sudden splash of icy water struck Arielle’s face, she woke up, coughing and shivering. Her vision was blurry at first, then she shook her head slightly and the things around her became clearer.

She was lying on the damp grass of the Ashford‘s graden under the full moon. Then her gaze darted forward and there it was.

Arnold stood a few feet away, holding the sacred sword of her late parents, and in his other hand, was the crystal stone, the one he stole from Arielle. And in front of him was The book of ancient spells— the very book her parents had sworn to protect with their lives.

She swallowed hard.

She knew exactly what he intended to do.

Activate the flaming sword with the crystal, draw from her bloodline magic, and end her life—just to claim full control over her powers and become the most powerful werewolf ever.

She struggled to move but her hands and legs were tightly tied together, cutting into her skin. And her body was still aching from the earlier wounds.

“Ohh why the rush dear?” Aurora said, stepping closer to Arielle. “The fun part is about to begin.’

“Aurora! it’s time.” Arnold said his voice filled with anticipation.

Without hesitation, Aurora grabbed Arielle's hands and dragged her to where Arnold was, Arielle couldn’t resist because she was too weak and her strength had long betrayed her.

Arnold attached the crystal to the sword and raised it up, the sword started flaming. The wind began to stir and Arnold began to chant

By the moon’s light and ancient sword

I now summon hidden power

Stone and sword, joined by blood,

Let fate be fulfilled, let my will be done.

Arnold immediately plunged the sacred sword into her chest, the sharp metal pierced into her heart. He twisted the blade cruelly and her blood pooled on the floor as its metallic scent lingered in the air.

“No!” She cried out, her voice filled with agony.

Thunder struck heavy and a blinding flash of light came down, striking the tip of the sword. A crimson energy swirled from Arielle's body, flowing into the sword and straight into Arnold’s body.

Raw ancient power coursed through him, and his veins glowed briefly, he let out a guttural cry.

Then silence.

Arnold yanked the sword from her chest, the sickening tear of her skin echoed.

“You were never strong enough, Arielle. The pack needs a better Luna and a stronger Alpha, and I will set it right.” He muttered before turning to the guards. “Burn her body.”

He ordered, and him and Aurora turned and left.

Arielle shut her eyes, more tears streaming down her face, then she made a plea to the Moon Goddess.

“Moon Goddess if you can hear my prayer, please grant me a second chance to seek justice on those who betrayed me and I promise I'd do it right.”

The full moon bled red and Arielle slipped into darkness.

***

“Arielle… my child.”

A Soothing voice which carried the weight of tides, and the hush of the midnight wind.

“The moon waxes, wanes and rises anew so shall you Arielle Mooncrest. This night is not your end, but your dawn. You must reclaim what they have taken, mend what has long been broken. And when the time comes, one shall stand beside you—not by chance but by destiny. He shall be your fire in the coldest night and shall stand with you against the darkness.”

The Moon Goddess deepened her gaze, and the silver glow mist swirled around Arielle's body.

“I lay upon you my blessings…. Wear it, Wield it and let it awaken what sleeps within. Rise Arielle Mooncrest, and tremble the scales of fate.”

Arielle's eyes snapped open, her heart pounding, the faint echoes of the Moon Goddess's voice still trailing through her mind.

For a moment, she lay still unsure if she was in a dream, then the familiar floral fragrance of her sheets and the oak carved walls struck her.

She sat up slowly, pressing her hands against her chest, as her gaze met the lunar parchment calendar hanging on the wall close to her bed—the days were marked with silver ink.

Her fingers brushed through the date it was the “8th day of the Harvest Moon.

She had returned three days before her death.

Then it struck her like lightning, the moon Goddess had truly sent her back. A second chance. Arielle’s lips curled into a satisfying smile.

“Thank you Moon Goddess,” she whispered, joining her two palms together. “This time I'll rewrite my destiny, and every single one that has wronged me will pay.”

She felt a tingling slow-burning sensation across her lower back. “What in the…” she muttered, turning towards the mirror, pulling her robe aside to check what it was.

There it was, etched on her skin just above her waist, was a strange symbol—three crescent arcs entwined, forming an endless cycle. It pulsed faintly, as if alive.

Her lips parted in awe.

“The Tribrid mark…” she whispered. The legendary mark spoken in hushed tones by the elders, who believed it was a myth. This must be the blessing…the Moon Goddess mentioned.”

Arielle gaze was still lingering on the Tribrid mark glowing faintly on her waist in the mirror, when suddenly a wave of silver light shimmered across the mirror surface.

Arielle's reflection blurred.

From within the glass, Aria’s form emerged—a majestic wolf, with moonlit white fur, her eyes a deep violet flame.

Arielle's heart leapt. She pressed a trembling hand against the mirror, her eyes brightening with relief.

“Aria you’re back… you've been silent for so long, I thought I lost you.”

Her wolf gaze softened, and her voice slid into the room like a growl carried by the wind.

“Slience was not mine, Arielle. It was chosen…woven by a force greater than us. Sometimes the wolf must wait in the shadow so the Luna could awaken.”

Arielle's brows knit together, her breath catching slowly, as she pieced it together. “So…this was meant to happen?”

Aria’s eyes burned with certainty

“The moon goddess doesn’t reveal her intentions at once. But know this… Every pain. Every betrayal. You survived because you were meant to rise stronger.”

Arielle wiped her tears, her jaw tightening. She lifted her chin, voice fierce. “Now Aria, we rise. And we make them pay.”

Her wolf growls in approval. Her voice thundered in Arielle's mind.

“We fight!”

The mirror stilled, leaving Arielle staring at her own reflection—more determined than ever.

But then,

A deep low growl

Arielle stiffened, her gaze darting towards the window, she moved quickly and pulled the curtain back with every muscle in her.

Nothing.

Nothing, except a faint claw mark on the windowpane. Her wolf stirred uneasily.

"Is anyone there?" She asked softly.

No answer

But a faint scent lingered in the air, woody, bitter and unmistakable. Her chest tightened.

"Arnold…” she wiisphered.

Down in the garden, a pair of dark eyes watched Arielle's window. A faint, crooked smile tugged at unseen lips before the figure disappeared into the garden.

Arielle closed the curtains slowly, her palm lingering on the fabric as her lips curved into a grim, knowing smile.

"You think I didn’t see you, Arnold… hiding in the dark like the coward you are.”

She crossed the room to the small table where a folded cloth covered a faintly glowing stone. She brushed aside the cloth and gazed at the sacred relic. Its surface shimmered gently in her palms.

Arielle stirred in silence at the same stone she had entrusted to Arnold in her past life… the mistake that had cost her everything.

"Not this time.” she said to herself.

"It's said that the sacred stone and the Book of Spells, when combined, could awaken the full power of my bloodline. If I want to survive in this life, I need to obtain the book of spells before he does. Then, the power will shift. I’ll put an end to this on my own terms.”

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