Men and women dropped to their knees, begging for their lives. Some were cut down where they knelt; others were dragged away to be dealt with later. Their voices shook with fear, but mercy had no place here.

"Please!" an old man cried, holding onto a soldier's boot. "We've done nothing wrong!"

"Exactly," the soldier replied, kicking him away. "That's why you were weak."

A few young warriors and teenagers were captured. They would be taken back, trained, reshaped, and turned into weapons for our future wars.

"Break them fast," another soldier muttered. "We need fighters, not mouths."

My pack, the Nocktra, was feared across the land. Ruthless and proud.

The Nightbane had no chance.

They had been shrinking for years. They refused to give up their land and said it meant everything to them. But that did not matter. Nothing stood in the way of the Nocktra, not even a dying pack holding onto fading traditions.

We wanted the land. They would not give it up, so we came for it.

And now, there was no going back.

I watched it unfold again. I had seen this before. The fire. The screaming. The silence that came after, but this time it was the last.

I saw young women and children being pulled from their homes, bloodied and shaking. They were being assembled near the boats that would take them back to our territory.

"Get in line!" A guard barked. "If you move, you die."

Then I looked at my side.

A mother, crying, kneeling beside her daughter. The woman's hands were stretched out, trying to protect the girl from the soldier reaching for her.

"Please, spare my daughter, Eira," she cried. "You can kill me, but please, let her live."

"No, Mama," the daughter sobbed, clutching her mother's hand. "I cannot lose you."

The girl was covered in blood, her dress torn, her chest partly exposed, her face filled with tears. Her voice cracked with panic.

"She is just twenty," the mother pleaded. "She is too young."

"Please, give her a chance to live," she cried, blocking the soldier.

"Move aside, old woman," the soldier growled. "You're wasting my time."

The soldier pushed the mother aside and grabbed the girl by the arm, lifting her roughly to her feet.

"Please," the girl said, trying to hold back tears. "If you are going to take me, take my mother too. She is all I have."

"Shut your mouth," the soldier snapped. "You're lucky you're even breathing."

One of the soldiers leaned in and spoke to Ryx, our eldest brother, the Alpha.

Ryx looked at the girl, then at the mother.

"Take the daughter and kill the mother," Ryx said with no emotion. "The girl is young and useful. She can give birth to low bloods who will serve our pack."

"No! Don't do this!" the girl screamed.

The soldiers nearby laughed. I heard my other brothers join in.

"She'll understand her place soon," one said, smirking.

My pack knew no pity.

Some of the people who were spared were tied up and dragged toward the boats. Their fate was clear.

The chosen ones-that was what we called them. The women, the children, and the few men who would be taken back with us. They were the ones who survived. But I knew they were not lucky.

Surviving was not always lucky.

"Keep walking!" a soldier barked. "Backs straight, heads down."

I saw the mother again. She was still screaming, still calling out for her daughter as she struggled against the soldiers.

"Eira! Eira!" She cried. "Don't let them take you!"

That was the last thing I heard from the mother because soon the people of Nightbane were in their assigned place. Captured or taken to be killed.

******

The young girl from earlier stood among the captured, quiet now. Her eyes were filled with sorrow, her body still. She did not speak again. She just stared ahead, watching her mother disappear into the distance.

"Don't cry now," a guard muttered. "You'll cry enough later."

I looked across the ruined village. The last of the houses was burning. The ground was covered in ash and blood.

It was over.

Nightbane was gone.

"The sun will rise soon," Nyx said from across the clearing. "We need to return before dawn."

We turned our horses toward home.

Our victory was complete.

As we approached our territory, we could hear the celebrations. News had reached them before us.

Feasts had been prepared. The fire pit at the center of the compound was lit. The scent of the dishes was everywhere.

"Smells like they've been waiting all night," Demion said, riding up beside me.

"Let them wait," Ryx replied. "We brought them glory."

We arrived late at the den, but we did not go inside. The first feast of the night was outside.

Each of the brothers had a seat. Food and drink were laid before us. The fire was at the center as the feast was set in front of us. Laughter filled the air.

Women danced near the fire. One passed by Demion and brushed his shoulder with her fingers.

But then she didn't stop; her hand rubbed his face, and then Demion held it.

"Hey," Demion said as he looked at the woman and then gave her a small peck before releasing her hands.

"Do you feel it, Demion?" Ryx asked from across the fire. "Do you hear it? The joy of our pack?"

Demion laughed. He lifted his cup.

"It is not always like this," he said.

"No, it is not," Ryx replied with a grin. "But this, this is who we are. Winning is our greatest strength."

Nyx leaned back in his chair and raised his goblet high, his eyes reflecting the flames.

To the fallen," he said quietly, "may they remember why they lost."

The others laughed and raised their cups.

"To the fallen," they echoed.

"The Nocktra," I said as I raised my cup.

They cheered louder at that but no one saw the way my fingers clenched the goblet just a little too tight.

Moonbound Slave

About

Chapter 1 THE FALL OF NIGHTBANE

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