Chapter 4 Lycaria, The Hidden Capital

The path north twisted through valleys of shadow and stone. Demetrius led without hesitation, feet moving silently over crumbling roots and moss-covered ledges, as though he had walked the way a thousand times. Eirene followed close behind, breath puffing in the chill, her mind buzzing with everything she'd seen-everything she'd become. The forest changed as they traveled. The air grew thicker. Colder. The trees loomed higher, with trunks so wide they could hide small houses. Their branches intertwined far above, nearly blotting out the sky. Moonlight barely touched the ground.

"I don't recognize anything anymore," Eirene murmured after a long stretch of silence. Demetrius glanced back. "That's because we crossed into the Wyrmwood." "Sounds inviting." "It's a place of old magic. What lies within it shifts for outsiders. But I've walked it since I was a boy." Eirene hugged her arms, chilled despite the layers. The deeper they went, the more it felt like the forest was... watching. Not just listening-watching. Whispers tickled the back of her mind. Shadows moved where nothing should have stirred. She didn't ask if it was her imagination. She already knew the answer. "How far to Lycaria?" she asked. "By mortal reckoning, about three days." "And by yours?" "We'll be there by nightfall." She blinked. "You're joking." "No." "How-" "We travel on ley lines now. Magic paths. Time bends with the roots." Eirene paused mid-step, staring at him. "That's a thing?" Demetrius gave a rare flicker of a smile. "You're not in Kansas anymore, Luna-Born." She sighed and kept walking. "Great. And here I was hoping for a nice long nap and a pizza." He didn't laugh, but she saw a glimmer in his golden eyes. "You'll find Lycaria... surprising." They crossed the last threshold just as dusk fell. A veil of mist curled around their ankles, thickening with each step. The trees thinned at last, giving way to a wide expanse of silver grass and glistening stone ruins. And there-rising from a circle of jagged cliffs-stood Lycaria. Eirene stopped walking. "Holy shit." It was a city unlike anything she'd imagined. Not just built into nature-born of it. Giant silver trees wove into towers. Glowing moss lit winding staircases carved into the sides of cliffs. Waterfalls cascaded through ancient archways. Bridges stretched between stone spires, some floating midair. Wolves-some massive and others sleek-paced beneath balconies and along high perches. But what struck her most was the sound: a song of howls, echoing through the valley. Not violent. Not mournful. Welcoming. "Lycaria," Demetrius said quietly. "Sanctuary of the Moonborn. Heart of the Old Blood. And now-your home." She barely heard him. Her pulse thundered with something fierce, something ancient. The city called to her. And her soul answered. The gates were guarded by twin sentinels-massive wolves with silver-flecked fur and violet eyes. As Demetrius approached, they shifted smoothly into tall, armored figures. Male and female. They carried curved blades on their backs and bore matching crescent scars on their collarbones. "Alpha Demetrius," the woman said, bowing slightly. "You returned earlier than expected," the man added, eyes flicking to Eirene. Demetrius nodded once. "She awakened. I'm invoking Rite of Ascent." Both guards stiffened. "Now?" "Tonight." Eirene frowned. "What's the Rite of Ascent?" The female guard glanced at her sharply. "You brought her unbound." "She wasn't ready," Demetrius said, a warning in his voice. "I'm still not," Eirene muttered. But the gates opened anyway, and they stepped into Lycaria's embrace. Inside, the city was alive with movement. Wolves trotted beside humans. Some people shimmered with half-shifted forms-clawed hands, glowing eyes, elongated canines. Children ran barefoot over the roots of glowing trees. Elders with braided hair whispered prayers in a language Eirene couldn't understand. And everywhere, she felt it: recognition. Heads turned. Voices fell quiet. Eyes-hundreds of them-followed her. "The Luna-Born..." someone whispered. "She's real?" "She's here." Demetrius moved close to her side, his body tense. Protective. "I don't like being gawked at," Eirene muttered. "You'll get used to it." "Will I?" He didn't answer. They passed beneath an archway shaped like a crescent moon. Inside, the hall smelled of smoke, earth, and something metallic-blood. A circle of elders waited there. Six men and women in cloaks of ash and silver, with moon-shaped pendants on their chests. In the center stood a dais carved from obsidian. Upon it lay a silver dagger and a bowl of clear water. Demetrius stepped forward. "Elders. I present Eirene, daughter of Callista, bloodline of Lykaios. She has awakened. I invoke the Rite of Ascent." The oldest elder-an impossibly wrinkled man with snow-white eyes-rose slowly. "She bears the mark?" "Yes." Eirene swallowed hard as Demetrius guided her onto the dais. "What do I have to do?" she whispered. "Bleed," he said simply. Oh. Of course. She reached for the dagger, but Demetrius stopped her. "I'll do it." Her eyes met his. "Is this part of the weird fated bond thing?" she asked nervously. "No. This is tradition." "Okay. Just don't stab too hard." He took her hand, gently pressing her palm over the dagger. The blade was cold. One swift motion-just a shallow cut-and blood dripped into the bowl below. The water hissed. It turned silver. And then-shimmered. The entire hall inhaled as one. The elder nodded. "She is of true blood." The others murmured. "The Luna-Born walks again." That night, Eirene was taken to a chamber high in the Moonspire, with windows that opened to the stars. A hot spring bubbled in the corner. The bed was made of woven roots and draped in white fur. She sank into the warmth of the bath, letting the heat ease her sore muscles. Her cut had already sealed. She was healing faster now. Stronger. And she could feel something else rising inside her. Power. Hunger. Desire. When Demetrius knocked, she was already out, drying her hair. "You didn't have to stay," she said, wrapping herself in a long robe. "I did." She sighed. "This whole 'you're-mine' thing..." "It's not ownership," he said, stepping inside. "It's protection." "Feels like a lot more than that." He stopped a few feet away. The scent of forest and ash clung to him. She looked at him carefully. "What happens now?" "We begin preparing for your full shift. And the Conclave." "What's the Conclave?" "The gathering of all Alphas. You must be presented. Bound. Or challenged." "Challenged?" His gaze darkened. "If another claims your bloodline... they can invoke trial by combat." Her mouth went dry. "And if I lose?" "You die." A beat of silence. "And if I win?" "You take their place. As Alpha. Or more." She stepped closer. "And what about you? Will you challenge me?" Demetrius's voice dropped to a hush. "No. I'll claim you." A jolt ran down her spine. "You don't even know me," she whispered. "I've known you in every life," he said. "I feel you. Every breath. Every heartbeat. It's not just fate. It's instinct." The air between them crackled. Then she surprised herself-and him-by stepping even closer. "Then prove it." Their lips met in silence, a crash of heat and tension that had been building since the forest. His hands found her waist, hers tangled in his hair. She kissed him fiercely, hungrily, like she was claiming him instead. But as quickly as it started, she pulled back. "Don't think this means I belong to you," she said, breathless. "I don't want you to belong to me," he replied, his voice low and rough. "I want you to rule beside me." That night, Eirene didn't sleep. Because now, she had a kingdom to claim.