Aria's breath hitched as the sky ripped open and swallowed her whole.
When she opened her eyes, the world had changed.
Gone were the dark forests of the Shadowlands. Here, the skies shimmered violet, the ground was carved from bone-white stone, and floating towers spiraled through the air like dreams.
> "Welcome," a councilor said. "To Aethermoor. Where bloodlines are either refined… or erased."
Aria wasn't alone.
There were others—creatures cloaked in ancient magic. Witches. Shifters. A girl with eyes made of flame. A boy with antlers sprouting from his skull.
But none of them looked at her with kindness.
She was the Moonblood. The one that threatened the balance.
And they feared what she could become.
---
Ronan watched the sky each night, waiting for a sign. But none came.
Until it did.
A feather, black and glowing faintly with magic, landed at his feet. A message burned into it.
> "The Moonblood is in Aethermoor. And she is not safe."
Ronan's eyes darkened.
"I'm done waiting."
He turned to the warriors who had stayed loyal. To the wolves who would follow him into hell.
"We train. We rise. We march on the gods if we must."
---
In Aethermoor, Aria knelt in a circle of runes, magic slicing through her like blades.
"Again!" barked her mentor—an elder with a face carved from stone.
"You must learn to control your emotions. Fear fuels chaos. Love fuels destruction."
Aria gasped, hands trembling.
"I'm not afraid," she said.
But then a vision hit her like lightning—Ronan, screaming her name, drenched in blood.
Her power surged.
The runes shattered.
And Aethermoor trembled.
The councilor's expression darkened. "If she cannot be tamed, she will be unmade."
---
Later, alone beneath a shattered moon, Aria whispered to the stars:
> "Don't forget me, Ronan. I'm fighting to come back."
Far away, in the heart of the Shadowlands, Ronan stared up at the same sky.
> "Come back, Aria," he murmured. "Or I'll burn the realms to find you
Aethermoor didn't believe in mercy.
Especially not for the Moonblood.
Aria stood barefoot in the center of the Trial Ring, surrounded by jagged stones that pulsed with ancient magic. High above, the council watched in silence—cloaked, cold, cruel.
Her opponent stepped forward.
Not a beast. Not a monster.
> A girl. No older than Aria. Pale hair. Shimmering green eyes. Fear in every breath.
> "Only one of you leaves alive," the councilor said. "This is not punishment. This is balance."
Aria's heart thudded.
> "I don't want to hurt you," she told the girl.
The girl didn't answer—just raised her trembling hands, vines bursting from her skin, magic wild with desperation.
The first attack came fast—roots snaking toward Aria's throat.
She dodged.
Barely.
She fought to control the storm building inside her. Moonfire sparked at her fingertips, but she refused to unleash it fully.
> "Please," Aria begged. "We don't have to do this!"
But the girl lunged again.
This time, the vines caught her ankle. Pulled her down.
Pain shot through her leg.
Aria's vision blurred. Her breath shortened. Her fear surged.
> "Kill her," a councilor whispered. "Or be buried beneath her roots."
And in that moment, the Moonfire answered.
It erupted from her chest like a tidal wave of flame and starlight.
The vines burned. The girl screamed.
And when the smoke cleared…
Aria stood.
The girl didn't.
She hadn't meant to.
She hadn't wanted to.
But it didn't matter.
> "You've passed," the councilor said. "Barely."
Aria collapsed to her knees, hands trembling.
She had survived.
But something inside her had changed.
---
Meanwhile…
Ronan stood before an ancient altar deep within the forest. A place forbidden even to the Alphas.
Carved into the stone was a door—sealed by blood magic older than the world.
A voice echoed from the shadows.
> "To open the path to Aethermoor… a sacrifice must be made."
> "What kind of sacrifice?" Ronan asked.
The voice laughed.
> "The kind that bleeds. The kind that loves."
And Ronan knew what it meant.
If he wanted to reach Aria…
He'd have to give up something sacred.
Or someone.
The night was thick with silence as Aria sat alone beneath the broken moon, her hands trembling. Blood had stained her fingers. The girl's face haunted her—wide-eyed, reaching for mercy that never came.
She was supposed to be the savior, the one who would bring peace.
But peace was becoming a distant dream.
The council's cold words echoed in her mind: Balance must be maintained. She wasn't a hero. She was just another force of nature, one that could break the world if she wasn't careful.
> "I didn't want to kill her," she whispered, but the wind didn't answer.
She had fought to survive. But what had she really become?
The door to her quarters creaked open. Ronan stepped inside, his eyes shadowed with regret.
Aria didn't look at him. She couldn't.
"I'm sorry," he murmured, sitting beside her. "I should've been there. I should've stopped them from taking you."
"No," she said quietly, her voice breaking. "You couldn't have stopped this. I couldn't stop it."
He gently turned her to face him, his hand cupping her chin.
> "I'll never let them turn you into something you're not," he promised. "I'll get you out of here. Just say the word, and we'll burn this place down."
Aria's eyes filled with tears. "I don't know if I can go back. What if I'm already lost? What if the darkness inside me is stronger than the light?"
Ronan's heart broke at the sight of her pain, but he refused to give in to despair. "Then we fight it together."
But just as the words left his lips, the air shifted.
The ground beneath them trembled, and a thunderous roar split the sky.
In an instant, the walls around them shattered.
Aria gasped, pushing Ronan aside as the first wave of darkness slammed into the chamber. The High Council's magic was everywhere, binding them in invisible chains.
Before Ronan could react, a figure appeared.
A man—tall, with glowing silver eyes and a crescent-shaped scar across his cheek. His voice was deep, cold, and full of ancient power.
> "The price of your treachery has come due," he said, his tone deadly. "The realms cannot stand against the rise of the Moonblood. And you—" His eyes locked on Ronan. "You dare defy the High Council?"
Ronan's gaze hardened. "You won't have her. Not while I breathe."
The stranger's lips curled into a smile. "Then prepare to breathe your last."
Aria surged to her feet, Moonfire blazing from her chest. "No!"
The magic she had been suppressing—the magic—erupted like a storm, shattering the air around her.
The stranger recoiled, raising a shield—but it wasn't enough. Aria pushed harder, the raw force of her power bending the laws of reality.
For a moment, everything paused.
And in the stillness, she heard a voice. A familiar, aching voice that she thought she would never hear again.
> "Aria…"
Her heart stuttered.
Ronan.
---
In the chaos, the walls of Aethermoor trembled. Magic cascaded in wild waves, breaking the delicate balance the High Council had so carefully controlled.
Ronan, still standing, locked eyes with Aria. She was glowing—alive, powerful—and he saw something in her he hadn't seen before.
She wasn't just a girl anymore.
She was a force of nature.
---