Chapter 115 Hundred and twenty
“Do you hear that?” the sentry whispered, his voice thinning under the weight of the night wind. “Tell me I’m not the only one hearing it.”
Ryder didn’t answer. He stood at the edge of the old ramparts, his mask shadowing his face, his breath shallow as the sound rolled through the valley again , a low groan like stone begging for mercy. The ground trembled beneath his boots, soft at first, then deep enough to rattle through his bones. He lifted his head slowly, his eyes fixed on the distant glow that shimmered across the horizon. The Moon Gate , the holy barrier protecting the capital , was breathing. Not the quiet pulse of life it carried when the world was steady, but a panicked, uneven shudder.
“It’s waking up,” Ryder said at last, his voice tight. “Or dying.”
The sentry took a step back. “It can’t die. It was built before the Citadel. Before the Moon Court. Before, ”
Ryder cut him off. “Everything breaks eventually.”
“And you know that how?”
He didn’t respond. The mask covered most of his features, but the tension around his shoulders, the rigid set of his spine, the way his hand hovered over the dagger strapped to his thigh , any soldier could see it. Ryder felt the gate collapsing, not with the ears of a warrior but with the curse burning beneath his skin. It thrummed in his blood like lightning looking for a place to strike. He knew this sensation too well, the warning of something ancient being undone. It called to him now, whispering through every nerve.
The groan came again, louder this time, the air rippling.
“Stay here,” Ryder muttered, already moving toward the forest path.
“Where are you going?” the sentry called out, panic threading his tone.
“Where the dead things walk when barriers fall.”
He didn’t wait for a response. He slipped into the trees, vanishing into the dark like mist pulled by a hidden tide.
The forest was restless tonight. Branches trembled though no wind passed through them. Owls hid instead of watching. Leaves curled in on themselves like frightened children. Ryder moved silently, though every step awakened the curse , a searing heat that crawled up his arms and pressed against his ribs, trying to force its way out. He gritted his teeth, fighting it, forcing himself to remain in control. The curse wanted chaos. It wanted blood. It wanted her, most of all.
Not now.
Not tonight.
A beam of pale silver light shot upward in the distance, splitting the sky for a heartbeat. Ryder stopped dead. The Moon Gate was visible now, a towering arch of ancient stone and luminous energy, woven centuries ago by the first priestesses of Lunaris. It had held armies back. It had kept monsters at bay. It had protected his people long before he came into existence.
Now it flickered like a dying candle.
“No,” Ryder whispered, taking off in a run.
The closer he came, the more he felt the wrongness spreading through the air , a heat that wasn’t fire, a cold that wasn’t winter. Something vast and invisible was pressing against the barrier from the other side, testing the seams, searching for weakness. He saw cracks forming like veins of darkness across the silver surface. The ground hummed beneath him, each vibration sharper than the last.
“Hold,” he breathed, as if the gate could hear him. “Just hold a little longer.”
A shriek split the silence.
Not human.
Not wolf.
Something older.
Ryder slid to a halt beneath the arch just as the first fracture tore open. Silver particles rained like shattered moonlight, hitting the earth in soft, glowing sparks. Through the widening crack, he saw movement , long limbs, twisted shadows, glowing eyes. Creatures that had been sealed away since the last war, things that fed on the marrow of magic and the bones of the moon.
They were waking.
One shape lunged toward the crack, slamming into the weakening barrier. The entire gate jolted. More shrieks followed, echoing from the other side. Ryder stepped forward, his heart thundering, his breath sharp.
“Not tonight,” he growled, pulling off the mask.
The air shifted. The curse recognized the threat before he fully did. Power surged through him, violent and hungry, but for once he didn’t push it down. He let it rise, allowed the heat to burn through his veins until his hands trembled with barely contained force. The silver light of the barrier responded instantly, flaring toward him as if pulled by instinct.
The creatures snarled.
Ryder stepped closer, voice low and dangerous. “You come through that gate, you meet me first.”
He pressed his hand against the crack.
Pain shot through him like a bolt of lightning. His body tensed, muscles locking. The curse roared inside him, colliding with the ancient magic of the Moon Gate. Two forces of divine origin clashing in a single mortal vessel. The air around him crackled. The light surged violently, filling the forest with a silver storm. The creatures on the other side shrieked and recoiled, clawing at the gap.
“Back,” Ryder rasped, pushing harder. “Back into your pit.”
The gate fought him. The creatures fought him. His own curse fought him. His vision blurred, his teeth gritted, his fingers digging into the crumbling stone. Every breath felt stolen, ripped from his lungs. But he didn’t stop. He couldn’t. If this barrier fell completely, the capital would be overrun before dawn. Sienna would be the first target. The curse pulsed painfully at her name, and he shoved it down, channeling everything he had into the gate.
The light flared again , bright enough to blind.
A wave of silver fire blasted outward, sweeping across the forest floor. Trees bent under the force. Stones cracked. The creatures screamed and stumbled backward into the shadows. One of them tried to force its way through anyway, its hand , long-fingered and bone-thin , slipping into the world like a nightmare made tangible.
Ryder grabbed it.
The creature hissed and thrashed, its skin burning under his grip. Ryder tightened his hold and yanked it forward, slamming its head into the barrier. The crack shuddered, the gate pulsing like a dying heart.
“Get out of my world,” he snarled.
The creature screeched. Its body flickered. In one last vicious struggle, it clawed at Ryder’s arm, slicing deep enough to draw blood. The curse surged instantly, responding to the wound like a predator tasting prey. Ryder fought it back again, crushing the creature’s skull against the glowing crack until it dissolved into dust on the other side.
The gate screamed , a sound like stone crying.
Then it splintered.
A massive fissure tore upward through the arch, splitting it nearly in half. Light burst out from every fracture, spilling across the earth. Ryder staggered back, shielding his eyes as the Moon Gate convulsed, its magic unraveling thread by thread. He could feel it breaking apart, the ancient protections collapsing under the weight of history and war.
“Don’t you dare fall,” he whispered, voice raw. “I’m not done.”
The gate ignored him.
With a final thunderous crack, the entire arch exploded into a storm of silver shards.
A shockwave ripped through the forest. Ryder hit the ground hard, air punched from his lungs. He rolled onto his side, coughing, struggling to rise. His vision spun. His arms trembled. The curse raged through him, tasting freedom in the chaos. He forced himself to breathe, refusing to let it overtake him now.
When his eyes finally cleared, the Moon Gate was gone.
All that remained was a smoking crater, faintly glowing, the scent of ancient magic evaporating into the night. But what made Ryder’s stomach tighten wasn’t the destruction , it was the silence.
Nothing snarled beyond the ruins.
Nothing stirred.
The creatures had withdrawn…
but not because they were afraid.
They were waiting.
A faint rustle moved through the trees. Ryder turned sharply, his hand instinctively reaching for his dagger. Shadows shifted at the edge of the forest , dozens of them. Not beasts. Not monsters.
Men.
Soldiers.
Zane’s.
They stepped into view, blades drawn, eyes gleaming with the thrill of a battlefield already won. One of them smirked as he raised his sword.
“Well, well,” the soldier drawled. “Looks like the Moon Gate fell at the perfect time.”
Ryder exhaled slowly.
“Perfect for who?” he asked.
The soldier grinned wider. “For the new king.”
Ryder didn’t move, didn’t blink, didn’t breathe.
Because somewhere behind those men, somewhere deeper in the forest, he felt another presence rising , dark, violent, familiar.
Zane.
Things were about to break wider than the Moon Gate ever had.
And Ryder was standing at the center of the fault line.