Chapter 4 Into the fangwood

The Fangwood loomed like a wall of shadow at the edge of the Nightfang stronghold, its gnarled trees twisting skyward, their branches clawing at the dawn's pale light. Liora stood at the forest's threshold, Mira's cloak heavy on her shoulders, the runed dagger strapped to her hip. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and something older, sharper-like the breath of forgotten gods. Torin stood beside her, his green eyes scanning the trees, his usual calm tempered by a tightness in his jaw.

"This is as far as I go," he said, his voice low. "The spirits don't take kindly to outsiders, even half-elves. Follow the path until you reach the shrine. The Moonstone will be there, but the spirits will test you. Trust your magic, Liora, but trust your heart more."

Liora nodded, her throat dry. The weight of the trial pressed against her chest, mingling with the faint pulse of the bond-Kael's presence, distant but unyielding, a thread she couldn't fully sever. She pushed it down, focusing on the path ahead, a narrow trail of moss and stone that vanished into the forest's gloom. "Thank you, Torin," she said, meeting his gaze. "For believing in me."

He offered a small smile, though worry lingered in his eyes. "Come back with the Moonstone. Prove them wrong." He hesitated, then added, "Prove him wrong."

Liora's lips tightened, Kael's rejection still a raw wound. She turned to the Fangwood, squaring her shoulders. "I will."

The forest swallowed her as she stepped onto the path, the trees closing in like sentinels. The air grew colder, heavier, and the sounds of the stronghold-distant voices, the clatter of steel-faded into silence. Only the rustle of leaves and the occasional snap of a twig underfoot accompanied her. Her magic stirred, a faint glow at her fingertips, but it felt unsteady, like a flame in a storm.

The path wound deeper, the trees growing denser, their bark etched with runes that pulsed faintly, mirroring the dagger at her hip. Liora's heart pounded, Torin's warning about the spirits echoing in her mind. She'd expected movement-eyes in the shadows, whispers on the wind-but the forest was eerily still, as if holding its breath. Her hand rested on the dagger's hilt, the runes warming under her touch, a small comfort against the growing sense of being watched.

After what felt like hours, the path opened into a clearing. At its center stood a stone altar, weathered but intact, its surface carved with crescent moons and wolves in mid-howl. On it rested the Moonstone, a fist-sized orb that glowed with a soft, silvery light, its surface rippling like water under moonlight. Liora's breath caught, the stone's presence pulling at her magic, amplifying the glow in her hands. She stepped forward, her eyes fixed on the prize, but a chill ran down her spine, stopping her in her tracks.

The air shimmered, and shadows coalesced at the clearing's edge, forming three figures-tall, translucent, their forms shifting between human and wolf. Their eyes burned with a cold, white light, and their voices, when they spoke, were a chorus of whispers that scraped against Liora's mind.

"Who dares seek the Moonstone?" they intoned, their words weaving through the air like smoke. "Speak, child of flesh, or be judged."

Liora's mouth went dry, but she forced herself to stand tall, Mira's cloak a steadying weight. "I am Liora Veyne, chosen by Selys as a Lunari. I seek the Moonstone to prove my worth to the Nightfangs and unite the packs against the Void."

The spirits drifted closer, their forms flickering, revealing glimpses of fur and fangs. The central figure, a woman with a spectral crown of antlers, tilted her head, her eyes boring into Liora's. "Selys's chosen, yet you bear the scent of doubt. A bond broken, a heart unclaimed. Why should we yield our treasure to one so frail?"

Liora's chest tightened, the bond flaring with a pang of Kael's rejection. "I'm not frail," she said, her voice trembling but firm. "I've seen the Void. I've survived it. Selys chose me for a reason, and I'll prove it."

The spirits laughed, a sound like cracking ice. "Words are wind," the antlered woman said. "Prove your heart, or the Fangwood claims you."

The clearing darkened, the Moonstone's light dimming as shadows surged forward. Liora drew her dagger, the runes blazing, and called on her magic. A pulse of light erupted from her, pushing the shadows back, but they reformed, their shapes now wolves with jagged teeth and claws like obsidian. Her heart raced, Torin's words echoing: They test your heart as much as your strength.

The first spirit-wolf lunged, its claws raking the air. Liora dodged, her training with Torin guiding her movements, and slashed with the dagger. The blade passed through the spirit, dispersing it into mist, but it reformed instantly, its growl shaking the ground. She stumbled, her magic flaring erratically, and another spirit struck, its claws grazing her arm. Pain seared through her, blood welling beneath the torn sleeve of Mira's cloak.

"You falter," the spirits hissed, circling her. "Your light is weak, your heart divided. The Void will break you as it broke us."

Liora's vision blurred, not from pain but from the weight of their words. Images flashed through her mind-her village burning, Kael's cold eyes, the Void's black-starred figure from her dreams. Doubt clawed at her, but she gripped the dagger tighter, her magic surging. "I'm not broken," she growled, her voice raw. "And I won't let the Void win."

She thrust her hand forward, willing her magic to obey. A wave of moonlight erupted, brighter than before, and the spirits recoiled, their forms wavering. The antlered woman's eyes narrowed, but a flicker of approval crossed her face. "Bold, but not enough," she said. "Face your truth, Lunari, or fall."

The clearing shifted, the altar vanishing, replaced by a vision of the Nightfang courtyard. Kael stood before her, his gold-flecked eyes cold, his voice echoing his rejection: "I will not be bound to one who cannot stand as my equal." The bond burned in her chest, a mix of pain and longing, and Liora staggered, her magic flickering. The spirits watched, their whispers taunting: "He denies you. You are alone."

"No," Liora whispered, tears stinging her eyes. She closed them, shutting out the vision, and focused on the bond-not its pain, but its warmth, the faint thread that still connected her to Kael. She didn't need his approval, but she wouldn't let his rejection define her. "I am enough," she said, her voice rising. "For Selys, for the packs, for myself."

Her magic flared, a radiant burst that banished the vision and drove the spirits back. The clearing reappeared, the Moonstone glowing brighter on the altar. The antlered woman stepped forward, her form solidifying into a warrior clad in ancient furs, her eyes no longer cold but searching.

"Your heart holds firm," she said, her voice softer now. "But one test remains. The Moonstone demands sacrifice. What will you offer?"

Liora's breath hitched. She had nothing-no possessions, no titles, only herself. But as she looked at the Moonstone, its light pulsing in time with her heartbeat, she knew. "I offer my fear," she said, her voice steady. "My doubt, my pain. I'll carry them, but they won't rule me."

The spirits stilled, their eyes glowing with a new intensity. The antlered woman nodded, and the Moonstone lifted from the altar, floating toward Liora. Its light enveloped her, warm and alive, and her magic surged, stronger, steadier, as if the stone had unlocked something within her. She reached out, and the Moonstone settled in her hands, its weight both heavy and comforting.

"You are worthy," the spirits said, their voices fading as their forms dissolved into mist. "Take the Moonstone, Lunari, and light the path against the dark."

The clearing fell silent, the forest's oppressive weight lifting. Liora clutched the Moonstone, its glow illuminating the path back to the stronghold. Her arm throbbed where the spirit's claws had struck, but the pain felt distant, overshadowed by the triumph in her chest. She'd faced the Fangwood and won-not for Kael, but for herself.

As she retraced her steps, the bond pulsed again, stronger now, carrying a flicker of Kael's emotions-shock, perhaps, or pride. She pushed it away, focusing on the Moonstone's warmth. The stronghold came into view, its gates open, Torin waiting with Mira at his side. Their faces lit with relief as she emerged, the Moonstone glowing in her hands.

"You did it," Torin said, his voice thick with awe. Mira rushed forward, hugging her tightly, heedless of the blood on her arm.

Liora smiled, exhausted but unbroken. "I told you I'd come back."

But as she stepped through the gates, she saw Kael standing on the ramparts, his silhouette stark against the rising sun. His eyes met hers, and the bond flared, a mix of fire and ice. She held his gaze, the Moonstone's light casting her shadow long and unyielding. She was no longer just a human, no longer just a rejected mate. She was a Lunari, and she would make him see it.