Chapter 2 The Bloodmoon Remnant

The northern sky bled red as dawn crept over the peaks, casting eerie shadows on the rogue encampment. Smoke curled from distant fires. Wolves moved like phantoms through the trees, whispering about the woman who had once been Luna and was now something far more dangerous.

Inside a tent of dark fur and thick leather, Aria crouched beside her son.

"Still cold?" she asked quietly.

Caleb didn't answer. His silver eyes flicked up at her, wide and alert, more mature than any three-year-old's had a right to be. He never complained. He never cried. And that scared her more than anything.

"No," he said at last, tugging his tattered cloak closer. "Not cold. Just... buzzing."

Aria stiffened.

Buzzing.

That was what he called it when his senses flared. When his blood reacted to something in the air. Something unnatural.

"Buzzing like what?" she asked, brushing his raven curls from his forehead.

He pointed toward the east.

"Fire."

Aria's pulse quickened.

She stepped outside, boots crunching lightly in the frost. Ronan-the tall, broad-shouldered Beta who had followed her into exile-was already waiting.

"You felt it too?" he asked.

She nodded once.

"East perimeter. Two scouts are missing."

Ronan grimaced. "You think it's them?"

"If it is, they're getting bold."

Ronan fell into step beside her as they made their way through the camp. Warriors stopped what they were doing, nodding with quiet respect. No one dared approach without her signal. Aria had earned their loyalty not with fear, but with fire.

Not just the kind that burned.

The kind that healed.

They reached the ridge overlooking the valley. Smoke rose in thin spirals beyond the trees-too controlled to be a wildfire.

"Pack torches," Ronan confirmed. "Maybe a Bloodmoon patrol. Maybe worse."

Aria clenched her jaw.

She'd hoped to wait longer before striking, to gather strength, allies, and resources. But Bloodmoon was hunting her already. The rumors must've reached Damien's ears: that the mate he'd exiled was not only alive, but building an army.

She turned to Ronan. "Assemble the scout detail. I want eyes on that fire before noon."

Ronan nodded. "And if it's them?"

"Then we remind them who they tried to bury."

Back in Bloodmoon Territory

Damien hadn't slept in three nights.

He sat in the war room, a half-drunk cup of coffee in one hand, and three field reports in the other. All said the same thing.

Rogue attacks were escalating.

But not random ones.

They were coordinated. Surgical. Each one struck a critical point-supply caches, messenger routes, weak borders-and disappeared without a trace. The marks left behind were brutal but organized. Tactical.

It felt like her.

He shoved the thought aside and stood. His Beta, Silas, entered quietly.

"You asked for updates."

"Well?"

"We lost contact with two scouts near the east border."

Damien's jaw tightened.

"Any signs of rogue movement?"

Silas hesitated. "Yes. But not what you'd expect. No signs of struggle. No corpses. Just silence."

Damien stared at the map before him. His eyes narrowed on the patch of forest where it had happened.

"We need eyes on that valley. Send an elite patrol. And send me their Luna's file again."

Silas blinked. "You mean-?"

"I want to see the report. All of it. Everything that convicted her."

Silas's face remained impassive, but Damien knew he was questioning it. They all were. Even Damien didn't know why he suddenly needed to read it again.

Maybe because deep down, a voice he thought he'd buried was whispering:

What if she wasn't guilty?

Back at the Ridge

The forest smelled like scorched pine and lies.

Aria crouched beside a burned tree, examining the pattern of the fire. It hadn't spread naturally-this had been controlled. Contained. Not meant to destroy, but to signal.

She stood and scanned the horizon. Ronan approached quietly behind her.

"They were here," he said. "Bloodmoon cloaks. Fresh tracks. But... they left in a hurry."

"Spooked?" she asked.

"Or warned," he said darkly.

Aria narrowed her eyes. "I want this fire out and our perimeter reinforced. Move everyone into silent formation by nightfall. If Damien's coming, he won't catch us sleeping."

Ronan hesitated.

"What?" she asked, already knowing the answer.

"Are you sure you're ready to see him again?"

She looked away, jaw clenched.

"No."

She turned back, voice cold and clear. "But I'm ready to make him bleed."

Later That Night

The rogue camp moved like shadows, shifting deeper into the woods. Aria sat with Caleb by a quiet stream, watching the moon's reflection ripple across the water. Her son leaned against her side, silent.

"He's close," Caleb whispered.

Aria's breath caught. "Who?"

Caleb's gaze never left the water.

"The one who hurt you."

She looked down at him. He was staring so intently, it felt like he was listening to the earth itself.

"You'd know him if you saw him?" she asked quietly.

Caleb nodded.

"He has a voice that sounds like thunder when he's angry. But sad thunder."

Aria blinked. "What?"

"I can hear it," he whispered. "When you talk about him. When you dream."

She didn't answer. Just held him tighter.

Somewhere deep inside, her wolf stirred.

Not with fear.

But with anticipation.

Miles Away – On the Move

Damien was already across the outer border.

His team fanned out behind him, silent and swift through the trees. The air here felt different. Thicker. Wilder.

He sniffed once-and froze.

Lilacs.

The scent hit him like a knife to the chest.

It was impossible. And yet...

He broke into a run.

The patrol shouted behind him, but he didn't stop.

He followed the scent like a man possessed, crashing through brambles, vaulting over logs. Until he came to the river.

And there, on the far side, was a woman cloaked in black.

Crouched beside a small boy.

His heart stopped.

She looked up.

And for the first time in three years, their eyes met.

Aria.