The sky did not merely darken—it bled.
A slow, suffocating crimson spread across the heavens, swallowing the last remnants of twilight until the world below was cast in a haunting, otherworldly glow. The Blood Moon had risen again, but this time… it felt different. Heavier. Hungrier.
Elara stood at the edge of the ruined terrace, her breath shallow, her pulse echoing like a war drum inside her chest. The wind whipped through her hair, carrying with it the scent of ash, iron, and something far older—something that stirred uneasily beneath her skin.
Behind her, the once-mighty Alpha Council grounds lay in devastation. Marble pillars cracked. Fires smoldered. The echoes of battle still clung to the air like ghosts unwilling to move on.
But the war was not over.
No… it had only just begun.
A low growl vibrated in her throat, unbidden.
Not hers.
Ours.
Elara stiffened.
