Aria's POV
The moon hung low and full above Blackstone, casting its pale glow over the ruined courtyard.
The flames of the ceremonial pyres flickered in rhythm with her heartbeat.
Each step Aria took toward the stone altar felt heavier than the last. Her boots crunched on broken marble. Her cloak trailed behind her like a shadow that refused to let go.
Her power simmered just beneath her skin, alive and restless.
Golden.
Wild.
Too much, even for her.
And yet tonight, the wolves bowed.
Hundreds of them. Blackstone warriors, nobles, seers—even the stubborn elders of the council stood in uneasy silence as Kael stepped forward and placed the newly reforged crown in her hands.
"You earned this," he said softly.
"I never wanted it."
"Power rarely asks for permission."
Their eyes met.
She could still taste the kiss they shared before the trial. It had changed something between them—ignited a deeper fire. But the shadows between them hadn't disappeared.
If anything, they had grown darker.
"You're not the same," he whispered.
She didn't know if it was a compliment or a warning.
She raised the crown. The flames around her surged upward in response—golden, not red. Not wolf fire. Her fire.
Then, in front of the old gods and the wolves who once hunted her kind, Aria placed the crown upon her head.
A hush fell over the night.
The fire went still.
Then the wind whispered through the ruins, carrying one name.
"Queen of the Eclipse."
---
Kael's POV
She was radiant.
And terrifying.
The moment Aria crowned herself, Kael felt the pack's magic shift. The earth pulsed with her power. The wolves behind him lowered their heads—not in loyalty, but instinctual awe.
They fear her, Kael thought.
And they should.
He did too.
Just a little.
Because he wasn't sure who she was becoming.
And he wasn't sure who he had to be to stand beside her.
His thoughts were broken by Dorian's voice, sharp and low.
"They've summoned you."
Kael turned. "Who?"
"The Council."
---
The Trial of Loyalty — Kael's POV
The room was cold.
Three council members waited.
Not all. Just the worst ones.
Mathias, Nyra, and Malric.
The Triad of Stone, Flame, and Blood.
Kael's mouth twisted. "Let me guess. You're not here to congratulate me on my mate's coronation."
"You are here," Malric said, "to prove that you can still serve the pack."
"I've bled for this pack."
"You bled for her."
Kael stepped forward. "She is part of this pack now."
"Then prove it."
A figure was dragged into the room.
Kael's heart stopped.
It was Kellen. His cousin. His blood. The wolf who once saved Kael during the Southern Rebellion.
Bound. Bruised.
"This traitor," Nyra hissed, "was caught delivering council maps to rogue shifters near the Silver Line. His betrayal threatens us all."
Kael stared at Kellen, who looked up with swollen eyes. "It's not true. Kael, they're lying—"
"You want me to kill him," Kael said.
Mathias smiled. "With your own hands."
"To prove where your loyalty lies."
Kael's pulse thundered.
This wasn't justice.
This was a test.
A punishment.
A reminder that no crown came without blood.
---
Aria's POV
She felt it before it happened.
The snap of Kael's pain.
The scent of spilled blood.
She ran from the courtyard, her power flickering like lightning beneath her skin. By the time she reached the council hall, it was over.
Kellen lay dead.
Kael stood over him, fists trembling, jaw locked.
Blood on his hands.
He looked up at her—haunted.
And in his eyes, she saw it.
Regret.
Guilt.
Distance.
A crack had formed.
And no fire could seal it.
---
Later That Night — Aria's POV
She sat alone in the old war room, her crown set aside, her fingers curled around her mother's journal.
The last page had appeared only that evening.
One sentence, inked in fresh crimson:
"Beware the blade that walks with a familiar face."
Aria's stomach twisted.
Someone close to her would betray her.
But who?
Kael?
No. She couldn't believe that.
Dorian?
No… he had been loyal since the beginning.
But there was one person who hadn't shown their true hand yet.
One who had slipped back into their life like a shadow pretending to be light.
---
Unknown POV
In the dark of the eastern tower, a figure moved silently.
They held a dagger shaped like a fang.
Its hilt bore the crest of the Eclipse—twisted, corrupted.
They stared into the fire, where Aria's image danced.
"She'll never see it coming."
Then they turned toward the night.
And vanished.