The Prophecy Revealed
The camp surrounding the council stronghold was eerily quiet, with only the crackle of distant fires breaking the silence. Isla stood near the edge of the stone hearth in the common area, her arms crossed as she stared into the flames. Her mind churned with the weight of the day’s accusations and the looming threat against Crimson Fang.
“Isla.”
She turned sharply to see Alaric approaching, his expression unusually grim. There was none of his usual sardonic humor in his voice, no trace of the rogue who thrived on teasing the world’s rules. He looked as if the weight of something unspeakable had pressed the air from his lungs.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Isla said, forcing a faint smile.
“Worse.” Alaric motioned toward the hearth. “We need to talk. Away from ears.”
With a wary glance around the shadowed courtyard, Isla followed him to a quieter corner near the flames. He leaned in close, his voice dropping to a low murmur.
“There’s something I need to tell you,” he began, his tone heavy with urgency.
“Go on,” Isla prompted, though a knot of dread coiled in her stomach.
Alaric took a steadying breath, his eyes locking onto hers. “Your bloodline isn’t just powerful, Isla. It’s divine.”
Her silver eyes widened, the words slamming into her like a physical blow. “What?”
He glanced over his shoulder, ensuring no one was within earshot, before continuing. “The Moon Goddess herself blessed your ancestors,” he said quietly. “You carry a lineage meant to maintain balance across the region. That’s why you’re so much more than a Luna. You’re a symbol. A bridge.”
Isla’s breath hitched as she absorbed his words. “A symbol of balance?” she echoed, her voice trembling slightly. “What does that even mean?”
“It means your existence—your choices—affect everything,” Alaric said, his voice steady but grim. “If you fail, Isla, the balance collapses. Packs will fall into chaos. The ties that bind them will unravel, and the darkness that Tobias thrives on will spread unchecked.”
Isla’s hands curled into fists. She tried to suppress the rising wave of disbelief. “And you’re just telling me this now? After everything that’s happened?”
“I didn’t know how much you could handle,” Alaric admitted, his tone softening. “But Tobias does. That’s why he’s targeting you. He’s trying to dismantle everything you stand for—starting with Crimson Fang.”
Her jaw tightened, and she turned her gaze back to the flickering flames. “If this prophecy is true… what am I supposed to do?”
Alaric’s eyes softened, but his answer was blunt. “You fight. You lead. You prove to them—and to yourself—that you’re not just Draven’s mate or Crimson Fang’s Luna. You’re something bigger.”
“And if I fail?” Isla whispered, her voice barely audible.
Alaric didn’t hesitate. “Then everything falls apart,” he said simply. His expression darkened. “And Tobias knows it. Maybe that’s exactly what he wants.”
For a moment, the only sound was the crackle of the fire. Isla’s mind raced, every piece of her world shifting into a new, terrifying shape.
Finally, she straightened, her silver hair glinting in the firelight. “Then we can’t let him win,” she said, her voice steel despite the tremor in her hands.
Alaric nodded, his gaze steady. “Then you’ll need to embrace what you are, Isla. All of it.”
