Chosen Luna Chapter 83

The dimly lit war room of the Obsidian Howl stronghold pulsed with malevolent energy. A sprawling map of the region lay across the central table, its edges marked with symbols of conflict. Seraphine leaned over it, her crescent mark gleaming faintly against her skin. Tobias stood beside her, his imposing figure shrouded in shadow, his eyes flicking between her and the map.

“Draven is too predictable,” Seraphine said, her voice laced with disdain. Her finger traced a line across Crimson Fang’s borders. “He’ll pour everything into the borders to protect his pack. And in doing so, he’ll leave Isla vulnerable.”

Tobias’s lips curled into a cruel smile. “The silver-haired queen everyone can’t stop talking about,” he mused. “What about her?”

“She’ll break,” Seraphine replied, her tone sharp and sure. “Like a doll smashed on the floor. And when she does, Crimson Fang will collapse with her.”

Tobias let out a dark chuckle, his hands gripping the table’s edge. “Then let’s begin,” he said, his voice dripping with malice.

At dawn, the Obsidian Howl pack unleashed chaos on Crimson Fang’s borders. Rogues descended like a storm, torching villages and driving pack members into a frenzy. Screams echoed across the land as fires lit the horizon.

In Crimson Fang’s war room, Isla sat at the head of the table, her silver hair catching the flickering candlelight. Reports flooded in from scouts, their voices overlapping in chaos. Susan slammed her fist onto the table, her expression tight with frustration.

“We’re playing right into their hands!” she growled. “Seraphine knows how we think, and she’s using it against us.”

Jamie shifted nervously in his seat, his fingers drumming against the table. “She’s tearing us apart from the inside,” he said. “We need to think differently.”

Isla stood, her voice cutting through the tension like a blade. “Seraphine knows us, but I know her better,” she said, her tone calm but commanding. “She thinks she’s untouchable. Let her think that—it’ll be her downfall.”

Before anyone could respond, the door to the war room slammed open. Draven strode in, his presence like a storm as blood streaked his hands and his amber eyes burned with fury.

“This ends now,” he growled, his voice low and dangerous. “If Seraphine wants war, she’ll get one—but on my terms.”

The wolves in the room froze, the weight of his words settling over them like a heavy mantle. Isla met his gaze, her heart pounding as she saw the fire in his eyes.

“Then let’s make her regret ever crossing us,” she said, her voice steady.

Draven nodded, his jaw tight. “We will.”