Chapter four. Ashes of the moon.

Before Rowan could move, she lifted her hand—and the mark on my skin ignited.

I screamed, falling to my knees as light burst from my chest, swirling in wild, golden flames. The entire Den trembled.

Rowan lunged toward me, shouting my name—

Then everything shattered.

Stone cracked. The torches exploded. My vision went white, and the last thing I saw was Rowan’s face—eyes full of rage and something deeper—before the light swallowed him whole.

When the light died, so did the silence.

I woke to the sound of my own heartbeat—heavy, ragged, too slow. The air was thick with dust and smoke. The Den… my home… was gone.

I pushed myself up from the rubble, muscles trembling. The walls that had stood for centuries were nothing but cracked stone and black ash. Moonlight poured through what used to be the roof, painting the ruins in cold silver.

Every instinct in me screamed her name.

“Celine!”

No answer.

I stumbled forward, claws scraping against the stone. The scent of her magic still lingered—burnt ozone and lightning—but faint. Fading.

“Celine!” My voice broke. I didn’t care. Alpha or not, I didn’t care.

Kade’s body lay half-buried near the staircase, chest barely rising. I knelt beside him. “Kade. Where is she?”

He groaned, eyes fluttering open. “Rowan… she—she burned. The witch… she—”

He coughed, blood staining his lips. “The light swallowed her.”

“No.” I grabbed his shoulder, shaking him. “Tell me she’s alive.”

“I don’t know.” His gaze drifted to the collapsed archway. “She screamed your name. Then she was gone.”

I stood slowly, every breath scraping against my throat. My wolf howled inside me, wild with grief and fury. The bond was still there—faint, flickering like an ember—but it hadn’t broken.

That meant she was alive.

Somewhere.

“Mira,” I growled. The name was poison in my mouth. “Where is she?”

But the Gamma was nowhere to be found. Her scent had vanished completely—swallowed by the storm that tore through the Den.

Kade tried to rise. “Rowan… what do we do now?”

I looked out over the burning forest. The smoke curled upward like a prayer the gods had long stopped answering.

“Find the survivors,” I said, my voice low. “Bury the dead. Then gather everyone left.”

Kade swallowed. “And the witch?”

My claws dug into my palms. “I’m going to bring her back.”

---

Hours later, I stood alone at the edge of the clearing where the battle had started. The ground was blackened, still smoking. Her scent was stronger here—mixed with iron and moonlight.

I knelt, pressing my hand to the soil. “Celine,” I whispered, closing my eyes.

Through the faint echo of the bond, I reached for her. I expected silence.

Instead, I heard her voice.

Faint. Distant. Fractured.

“Rowan…”

My chest tightened. “Celine? Where are you?”

“I don’t know. It’s cold… everything’s white.”

Her words cracked, fading. “The moon is speaking…”

“What do you mean?”

“It says… I’m not ready to live.”

Then—nothing.

The bond went dark.

I slammed my fist into the ground, roaring in fury. The power surged through me, splitting the earth beneath my feet. My wolf wanted to run, to tear through the world until he found her. But something stronger held me back—a whisper in the wind.

“She’s not dead, Rowan.”

I turned sharply, claws out.

A woman stood at the treeline, cloaked in white. Her hair was silver, her eyes glowing faintly blue. She smelled of old power—magic far older than the packs or the covens.

“Who are you?” I demanded.

“The Moon’s Keeper,” she said softly. “Guardian of the in-between. The witch is with us now.”

I stepped closer. “Bring her back.”

Her gaze didn’t waver. “You can’t command the moon, Alpha.”

“Watch me.”

“You don’t understand,” she said gently. “Her body burned, but her soul remains bound to yours. She’s trapped between life and shadow—half here, half in the Moon’s Realm. If you try to reach her, you’ll follow her there.”

“Then that’s exactly what I’ll do.”

Her lips curved in something like sadness. “You would walk willingly into death for her?”

“She’s mine,” I said, voice breaking. “You think I’d let her face that alone?”

The Keeper studied me for a long moment. “Then you are already doomed. The prophecy warned of this—two bound souls, each cursed to end the other. When one burns, one must die.”

“I don’t care what your prophecy says,” I growled. “Tell me how to find her.”

For the first time, something flickered in her eyes—admiration, or pity, I couldn’t tell. She lifted her hand and pointed toward the mountains beyond the valley.

“When the next full moon rises, the veil between realms will thin. There is a temple there—forgotten even by the gods. Its door opens only to those bound by flame.”

I followed her gaze to the peaks in the distance. “And if I go?”

“Then you’ll find her,” she whispered. “But you may not return.”

“I’ll take that risk.”

She nodded once. “Then you have six nights, Rowan Hale. Prepare your body, your pack, and your heart. The Moon’s Realm doesn’t forgive weakness.”

Before I could speak again, the wind rose—fierce, cold, and blinding. When it cleared, she was gone.

Only the echo of her voice remained.

Six nights.

---

That night, I gathered the survivors around the fire. Twenty wolves, bloodied and silent, their eyes on me. My pack was broken, but not dead.

Mira had betrayed us. The Den was destroyed. And Celine—my curse, my salvation—was trapped beyond the mortal world.

I stood before them, bare-chested, the mark on my skin still faintly glowing gold.

“The Ironclaws are gone,” I said. “But our fight isn’t.”

Murmurs rippled through the crowd. One young wolf stepped forward. “Alpha, the Den—our home—it’s lost.”

“Then we build again,” I said. “Stone can be replaced. Flesh can heal. But bonds—bonds forged in fire—those never die.”

Kade limped closer, voice low. “What about her, Rowan? The witch?”

I looked into the flames. “She’s part of this now. Whether the pack accepts it or not.”

The silence that followed was thick with unspoken tension. Some loyal. Some afraid. But I didn’t care.

“She’s my bond,” I said finally. “And I will bring her back.”

---

Later, when the pack slept, I stood alone beneath the bleeding moon. The night was too still. Even the wind refused to speak.

I touched the mark on my chest. It pulsed once, faintly—like a heartbeat echoing through eternity.

“Celine,” I whispered. “If you can hear me… hold on.”

The wind shifted.

And for the briefest moment, I heard it—a whisper, faint as breath.

“I’m trying…”

Then the mark flared—bright, blinding gold—and a vision flooded my mind.

Celine, standing in a world of white light, her hair floating like smoke. Her eyes glowed silver. Around her, shadowy figures circled—a dozen, a hundred—chanting words I couldn’t understand.

Her lips moved, and though I couldn’t hear her, I knew what she said.

“Find me before the moon does.”

The vision shattered.

I fell to my knees, gasping.

Above me, the moon seemed to pulse—watching. Waiting.

And in that moment, I knew the truth.

Celine wasn’t lost.

She was being hunted.

By the same force that cursed us both.

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