Chapter 9 BLOOD MOON RISING

The altar shattered into flame and stone.

Rowan shielded her face as shards flew past, heat licking her skin and searing the hem of her cloak. The sacred glade, once still and moonlit, was now a battlefield of screaming wind and crackling magic. Beside her, Silas let out a guttural snarl, the sound barely human as his body shifted mid-motion. Fur tore through flesh, bones cracked and reformed, until his wolf form burst forth-a streak of silver and fury-as he collided with one of the rogues lunging through the smoke.

"Kellen!" Rowan shouted over the chaos, her voice raw. "What do you want?!"

The rogue Alpha stood near the edge of the clearing, untouched by the flames, framed by the blood moon overhead. His grin stretched too wide, his teeth too sharp to be entirely human.

"What's owed," he called, voice thick with venom. "Blood for blood. Magic for magic. Your mother tried to bind what she never understood. I'm here to undo it-starting with you."

Another rogue emerged from the mist, claws gleaming. Rowan twisted her fingers in a practiced motion, magic rising to her fingertips like a coiled serpent. A bolt of violet energy leapt forward, striking the creature mid-air. It shrieked as it was flung backwards, colliding with a tree that split with a groan.

"Silas!" she yelled again. "There's too many!"

He didn't answer. He was bleeding-shoulder torn, ribs bruised-and still fighting with the ferocity of a cornered god. Three against one now, and more circling through the smoke. Blood stained the stone beneath them.

Rowan fumbled at her satchel. Her hands were slick, her breath hitching. The bone dagger pulsed with an infernal glow, growing hotter in her grip. It felt like it had a will of its own-something ancient and hungry. Something that recognized the chaos around them.

Something that wanted it.

She hesitated for only a second. Then-now or never.

Gripping the dagger with both hands, she whispered an incantation. Not one taught by the coven, but one remembered deep in her marrow-passed down in nightmares and broken lullabies.

"By the flame, by the bone, by the bloodline I disown-bind and break."

The dagger flared to life, white-hot.

She plunged it into the scorched altar.

The ground shuddered. A howl split the sky-not of pain, but of warning. Roots erupted from the earth, thick and thorned, snapping through the soil like claws. Two of the rogues screamed as they were ensnared, the vines tightening around their limbs with a sentient malice. They thrashed and howled, but the thorns drank deep.

Silas didn't hesitate. He slammed one of the remaining wolves into the stone archway with such force it cracked, bones breaking beneath his jaws.

But Kellen-Kellen didn't flinch.

"That trick won't save you twice, witch," he hissed, stepping forward. His eyes glowed blood-red now-unnatural. Not a beast's glow. Something older. Something wrong.

Rowan stood tall, the dagger still embedded in the altar's remains. "You're not just a rogue."

Kellen's smile turned predatory. "I'm the firstborn of the cursed line," he said, voice rough like gravel dragged through broken glass. "And the last thing your mother feared."

Rowan's breath caught in her throat. The history books never mentioned a firstborn. Only the Alpha who'd been cursed-and the madness that followed. But if Kellen had survived the original binding...

He wasn't just vengeful.

He was ancient.

"Silas," Rowan said, voice low but steady now. "We can't win this fight. Not here."

The wolf turned to her, eyes wild and blood-flecked. She could feel the battle still boiling beneath his skin, the fury barely restrained. But he nodded.

Rowan reached for him.

Kellen laughed. "Run, little witch. Run, little wolf. I'll find you. The moon's not done with you yet."

Rowan didn't answer. She gripped the dagger and turned.

They ran.

-

The forest blurred past as they fled through shadow and ash. Rowan's magic flared in her wake, casting veils of darkness behind them-illusions of false paths and shimmering mirages to slow their pursuers. Branches tore at her sleeves, mud clung to her boots, but she didn't slow. Not even as her legs screamed in protest.

Silas loped beside her, still in wolf form, breath coming in hard pants. Every muscle in him remained taut, coiled, like he was resisting the urge to double back and fight.

They didn't stop until the river came into view-wide and churning, swollen from spring melt. Rowan splashed through, magic pulsing beneath her skin, and they reached the far bank just as her strength began to falter.

The edge of the Ashbourne wards shimmered in the distance, a faint hum of magic brushing her skin like static. Safe-for now.

Silas shifted the moment they crossed, the transformation violent and fast. He collapsed against a tree, bloodied and gasping. Steam rose from his skin.

Rowan dropped beside him, knees folding without grace. Her hands trembled. Her heart wouldn't slow.

"That wasn't just a rogue attack," she said, voice hoarse. "That was a message."

Silas nodded, jaw clenched. "And a declaration of war."

Silence fell over them, thick with dread. The air itself seemed to hold its breath.

Rowan looked down. The bone dagger sat in her lap, still warm. But the runes etched into its surface had shifted-subtle, but undeniable.

One now glowed gold.

She stared at it. "That was the first seal," she whispered. "There are more."

Silas sat up slowly, wincing. His skin was pale beneath the grime. "And if Kellen gets to them first?"

"He won't," she said, jaw set. "Because we'll find them. And we'll finish what my mother started."

"But if the seals were meant to bind him..." Silas said carefully, "then breaking them might be exactly what he wants."

Rowan met his gaze. Her eyes didn't waver. "Then we don't break them."

She rose to her feet, every inch of her trembling-but it was no longer fear.

"We rewrite the spell."

Silas stood, close now. Close enough that his breath ghosted across her cheek. "That means you'll need me. Every step."

She didn't move away.

"I never said I didn't."

Their eyes locked. The forest seemed to narrow around them, to hold its breath. There was a pull, magnetic and dangerous, humming in the space between them.

But then-

A howl split the night.

Not a rogue's.

One of their own.

They turned just as Elara burst through the trees, hair tangled and cheeks streaked with soot. She stumbled to a halt, breathless, wide-eyed.

"You need to come back," she panted. "Now. The wardstone-it's gone."

Rowan blinked. "What do you mean gone?"

Elara's throat bobbed as she swallowed. "Someone destroyed it. Ashbourne's barrier is down."

Silas swore under his breath, eyes blazing. "Then it's already started."

The forest seemed to lean in around them, suddenly colder. Rowan felt the weight of it all-the ancient dagger in her grip, the blood still drying on her skin, the trembling magic in the air.

Nothing would ever be the same again.

And somewhere in the dark... Kellen was watching.