Chapter 3 The Fortress Gate

Blackthorne Fortress rose before Amara like a shadow born from stone and legend. The blackened walls, towering spires, and ancient banners whispered stories of battles fought and blood spilled long before she was born.

As she approached, the weight of her choice settled deeper on her shoulders. *This is it,* she thought, tightening her cloak against the cool evening breeze. *No turning back.*

At the main gate, two guards clad in dark steel crossed their spears, blocking her path. Their eyes, hard and suspicious, flicked over her travel-stained cloak and mud-caked boots.

"Halt. State your business," one barked.

Amara swallowed, gathering the courage she'd carefully pieced together on the road. "I... I've come under the goddess's decree," she said, her voice steadier than she felt. "I am Amara."

The name hung in the air, as if testing their belief.

For a moment, the guards exchanged startled glances. One quickly turned, pounding on the gate with the base of his spear. Moments later, the heavy wooden doors creaked open, revealing the dimly lit courtyard beyond.

"Come," the guard ordered, his tone softer now, touched by caution - or perhaps respect.

Amara stepped forward, each stride echoing in the vast courtyard. Servants hurried past, heads bowed. Somewhere, the distant clang of metal on metal hinted at training grounds. But it was the air itself that felt different: alive, humming faintly with power.

*He's here.*

The realization sent a tremor through her chest. She would see Alpha Kael - the man whose image the goddess had burned into her vision. What words would he speak? What judgment awaited her?

A steward appeared, robes brushing the stone, and offered a curt nod. "Follow me, miss."

Through torchlit corridors they walked, shadows dancing along ancient tapestries depicting wolves, moons, and silver-eyed goddesses. Each step deeper into the fortress felt like stepping deeper into destiny itself.

Finally, the steward stopped before a set of ornate doors carved with crescent moons and runes that seemed to shimmer faintly in the torchlight.

"He awaits you inside," the steward said, voice hushed. Without waiting, he turned and left her alone.

Amara stood there, heartbeat roaring in her ears. *Wanted by the goddess herself.* It felt unreal, yet here she was, standing at the threshold of answers.

She raised a trembling hand and pushed the doors open.

Inside, the room was dim, warmed by a crackling fireplace. Maps, scrolls, and weapons lay scattered across tables. And there, standing beside the fire, was Alpha Kael.

He was taller than she'd imagined, with dark hair falling across a strong brow and eyes like cold embers. A faint scar traced his jaw, adding a harshness to an otherwise striking face. Power radiated from him - raw, coiled, barely restrained.

For a heartbeat, silence stretched between them.

"So," he spoke at last, his voice a gravelly baritone that seemed to stir the very air. "The goddess's wanted has finally come to my door."

Amara stepped forward, her legs shaky but her chin held high. "I came because I need to know why. Why me? Why now?"

Kael's eyes narrowed, studying her as though searching for secrets hidden beneath skin and bone. "The better question," he said slowly, "is whether you're ready to accept the truth - once you hear it."

She met his gaze, refusing to flinch. "Try me."

A flicker of something - amusement, perhaps, or approval - crossed his expression.

"The moon goddess doesn't choose lightly," Kael began, moving closer. "You are the last of a bloodline bound to her by ancient pact. A bloodline thought lost, destroyed generations ago. Your existence changes everything."

Amara's breath caught. "My family... they died because of this, didn't they?"

Kael nodded once, solemn. "Your blood carries power - power to tip the balance in a war even now gathering beyond these walls. That's why the goddess has declared you wanted: to protect you... and to use you."

The room seemed to tilt around her. *Protected... used... chosen.* Each word was a stone sinking in her chest.

"And you?" she asked, voice barely above a whisper. "What do you want from me?"

Kael stepped closer, so close she could see the faint lines of exhaustion around his eyes. "What I want," he murmured, "matters less than what fate demands. But know this, Amara: from this moment, your life is no longer your own. You stand at the heart of prophecy."

The fire crackled, throwing dancing shadows across ancient runes carved into the walls.

Amara drew a shaking breath, fear and resolve warring in her chest. "Then tell me everything," she said at last. "No more secrets."

Kael inclined his head. "Very well. But understand: once you hear the truth, there is no turning back."

She held his gaze, her voice quiet yet unwavering. "I stopped running the moment I stepped through those gates."

Outside, the wind howled, rattling the fortress banners - as if the very night had heard her vow.

Within, destiny stirred, binding two fates ever tighter in the goddess's design.