Chapter 5 Crimson on the Stone

The dagger was heavier than it looked.

Selene grasped it gingerly, swaddled in velvet, as if merely clutching it for any extended amount of time would awaken an ancient malevolence. And that was probably true. The dagger was more than steel and bone-it was a repository of blood, memory, and betrayal.

As she returned to the Undercity, the hybrid gate guards bowed low, their eyes not on Gavik or Lucian, but on her.

She was transforming. They could sense it.

The mark that had tormented her was now only a palimpsest scar. The shame that had pursued her had been erased.

Only power remained behind.

The chamber of the council waited. Her most loyal warriors, Nyra, Gavik, Lucian, and the new hybrid commanders, stood in a semicircle before the throne cut into the wall of stone.

Selene didn't sit down.

She laid the dagger across the table.

"This," she said, her voice unwavering, "is the blade that killed Reina. The very same knife that marked me on Blood Moon Cliff."

Gasps spread across the room like ripples on water.

"She attempted to warn me," Selene went on. "She was killed for it. But her spirit still lingered... until we released her."

"What did she say to you?" a war-hardened jaguar hybrid general named Orren asked.

Selene's jaws bricked together. "Kael wasn't alone. There was another person-a hooded one whose voice was shrouded in shadow. They were afraid of what would occur if I took my rightful place by Lucian's side."

"They were afraid of the mixing of blood," Gavik panted. "They were afraid of peace."

Lucian took a step forward. "They'll be scared of war now."

The table creaked under the pressure of quiet. Nyra's voice broke.

"Now what do we do? We have the knife. We have the truth. But the Alphan Court will not surrender because we wave a dagger around.".

Selene stared at her. "No. But they will shatter when the truth is inscribed on stone and baptized with blood."

Lucian's eyebrows leapt up. "You mean to defy him?"

"I mean to call him," she said. "The ancient way."

Nyra's eyes flared wide. "The Bloodstone Rite?"

Gavik snarled through clenched teeth. "That rite is taboo. It has not been invoked since the War of Fangs. Blood must be shed upon sacred stone."

Selene's eyes were hot, a flash of purple flashing across the silver. "Then let it bleed. The Crimson Stone remains in the Valley of the Howl."

Lucian placed a hand on her shoulder. "If we do this. there is no going back."

"There never was," she replied.

The Howl of the Valley lay before them, between curves of mountain ridges where the gale howled louder than any animal. The road was perilous, the Bloodstone a legend rather than a landmark.

By night they traveled, in fog and stealth. Selene took the lead, her cloak billowing like smoke, the dagger at her side pulsing dully like an extra heartbeat.

On the fourth night, they reached the lip of the Valley.

The air was thinner there.

Breath grew sharp in their lungs. Trees were replaced by rough rock. And there, under the light of an empty moon, it stood-

The Bloodstone.

Black as darkness. High. Scrolled with red lines ancient as time that trembled daintily, as if still burning.

Selene dismounted from her horse, the crunch of her boots on the broken earth.

Gavik laid the flat of his hand on the face of the stone and spoke in Fae.

It's real," he confirmed. "Still sleeping. But the blood remembers."

Lucian stepped to Selene's side. "Certain?"

She nodded.

She drew out the dagger from her belt.

The air shifted.

The moon grew dark.

Selene sliced her palm across and slapped her palm on the stone.

The change happened instantly.

The stone creaked. A low, old sound like the earth's own cry of anguish after all those years of quiet. Blood slid down its sides, brighter, hotter, until the scarlet lines pulsed like veins.

A distant howl ripped across the sky-low, guttural, and unnatural.

It came again.

And again.

Until a howling chorus filled the shadows.

The Rite had been heard.

Somewhere, Kael would be aware of it. Would hear the summons. He would be summoned. He would have no choice.

Selene addressed her people. "We have gone to war. Not with fire. Not with blade. But with truth."

Orren advanced. "Suppose he sends assassins, and then his reply?"

"Let him," Lucian spat, already silvering. "They will not leave alive."

Gavik's face went grim. "We have to go. The Valley will call forth ancient powers."

Selene laid her hand on the stone again. "Let them come. The time of concealment is ended."

They journeyed back to the Undercity as storms gathered above.

Movement was reported within hours-wolves on the borderlands. Not just Alphan soldiers, but rogue groups. Dark rumors of bone-paid mercenaries and witches.

Selene's war council convened again.

Nyra did not hesitate. "They are trying to stall. They will not risk Kael facing you in the Rite. They will kill you before the decline of the moon."

Selene did not waver. "Then I'll kill them first."

Lucian set a pile of scrolls on the table. "We attack first. Coordinated raids along their supply lines. Stealth attacks. We remind them they exiled us."

"And we raise the banners," Selene completed. "All of them."

Orren raised an eyebrow. "Even the red one?"

She nodded. "Especially the red one."

There was a tense silence.

The Crimson Banner had not been seen in a hundred years. It was not merely a banner of vengeance-but of rebirth.

That night, it was raised on the tallest spire of the Undercity.

Red silk. Black sigil. A wolf's head crowned with flame.

Selene stood before it, the wind catching the edges of her cloak.

Lucian stepped beside her, a rare softness in his gaze. "You've changed."

"So have you," she replied.

He turned to face her. "Ten years ago, I stood and watched you burn. Saw them chain you. And hated myself that I couldn't do anything to stop it."

"You tried," she whispered. "That's more than anyone ever did."

He stroked her face, his calloused fingers warm. "I never stopped loving you."

Her heart ached. "Even when I was a ghost?"

"Especially then."

Selene leaned into him, forehead against his. "I'm not a ghost anymore."

"No," he murmured. "You're a Queen."

Their kiss was soft at first-tender. Then it deepened, ignited by everything they'd lost and everything they were about to claim. When they finally parted, it was with a promise carved in fire.

No more hiding.

No more silence.

Only war.

Elsewhere, far from the Undercity, Kael stood in the snow.

The message had arrived not in words-but in blood.

His second-in-command, a ruthless enforcer named Ryden, furrowed his brow as he translated the symbols.

"The Bloodstone Rite," Ryden snarled. "She called upon it."

Kael's face remained impassive.

"She's braver than I expected," he said finally.

Ryden moved closer. "We can employ the Varg Pack. Poison the valley. Stop this before she becomes powerful enough to hurt us."

Kael's eyes iced. "No. She wants me to flee. To hide."

Ryden's eyes widened in shock. "Then what-

Kael turned, his eyes burning gold. "We give her what she wants."

A pause.

Ryden's voice dropped. "You'll face her?"

"I'll bury her," Kael hissed. "Again."

He turned to the darkness behind him. "Call the council. And summon the war witches."

The sky above them cracked with thunder.

The war had begun.