Chapter 147 Throne of Ashes
Lira POV
The Silvermoon packhouse rose before us like a corpse—twisted, corrupted and all wrong. I stood at the forest's edge, staring at the building where I should have been raised. Where my mother died. Where Elias had lived for years on stolen ground.
Dark magic pulsed from the structure itself, visible to my Moonblood senses. Black tendrils wrapped around stone walls, choking the life from everything they touched. "It's worse than I expected," Nicolas muttered beside me.
Kael's hand found my shoulder. "We can burn it down. Build something new."
"No." I stepped forward. "This was my mother's home. I won't let his corruption define it forever."
Movement at the main entrance. The heavy doors swung open, and he emerged. Elias Thornfield stood projecting authority. He could have been any successful alpha.
Except for the wrongness that radiated from him—stolen power, dark magic, blood on his hands. "Lira Ashborne." His voice carried across the distance. "Or should I say Lira Thorn? I hear congratulations are in order. a child."
"You have no right to speak my name," I called back.
He smiled. "I have every right. I'm the Alpha of Silvermoon. Have been for years, since my father's... unfortunate passing."
"You mean since you murdered him."
The smile never wavered. "Such accusations, do you have proof?"
"I don't need proof." I moved forward, leaving the tree line. Kael tensed behind me, but didn't interfere. "I'm here to reclaim what's mine."
"Yours?" Elias laughed. "You were imprisoned in a cellar for years, what claim do you have?"
"Bloodright." I stopped fifty feet from him. "Vera Ashborne was my mother. This pack, this land, this throne—all of it belongs to me by birth."
"Birth means nothing." He descended the steps, moving with predatory grace. "I've ruled Silvermoon for years. I've made it strong, prosperous, feared. What have you done besides survive?"
"I've protected my people. Built alliances. Defeated a council army." light flickered across my hands. "And now I'm here to end you."
His eyes gleamed with interest. "Bold words. But I'm curious—how do you plan to accomplish that? Your little Moonblood tricks? I've spent years studying your bloodline's weaknesses."
"Then you should know we don't have any."
"Everyone has weaknesses." He gestured to the packhouse behind him. "I propose a more civilized solution. Single combat. Alpha against alpha. Winner takes all territories, all loyalty, all claims."
Kael's growl rumbled through the bond. I felt his protest, his fury at the suggestion.
But I also felt his trust. "What are the terms?" I asked.
"Traditional challenge rules. Fight to surrender or death. No interference from either pack." Elias's smile widened. "And we fight here, where your mother took her last breath."
Pain lanced through me, but I kept my expression neutral. "When?"
"Now." He turned, walking back toward the packhouse. "Unless you need time to prepare? Perhaps consult with your mate about whether you're strong enough?"
I followed without responding to the bait. The ceremonial circle lay behind the packhouse—a perfect ring of ancient stones, each one carved with wolf symbols. The ground inside was scorched black, tainted by whatever dark magic Elias had performed here.
This was where my mother died giving birth to me, where her blood soaked into Silvermoon soil. Now it would be where I reclaimed her legacy.
Our packs formed a ring around the circle, maintaining careful distance. Kael stood at the edge, every muscle tensed, Fenris barely contained beneath his skin.
"I love you," I told him through the bond.
"Come back to me," he replied. "To us."
I stepped into the circle. The corrupted ground burned beneath my feet, rejecting my Moonblood presence.
Elias entered from the opposite side, rolling his shoulders. "Any last words before I destroy you?"
"Just one question." I watched him carefully. "Was it worth it? years of lies, murder, corruption—was this stolen throne worth your soul?"
"Souls are overrated." He shifted mid-sentence. His wolf form was massive—russet fur with markings along the spine, built for speed rather than power. Exactly what I'd expected.
But the dark magic swirling around him—that was the real threat.
I didn't shift. Couldn't, with Selwyn gone. But I didn't need to. Fire erupted from my hands, silver flames that lit the circle like a second sun.
Elias lunged. I rolled left, sending a whip of fire toward his flank. He dodged with impossible speed, dark magic enhancing his natural agility.
We circled each other, predator and prey constantly switching roles. He struck again, claws raking toward my throat. I was blocked with a shield of fire, but the impact drove me backward. Strong—he was stronger than he should be.
"Feel that?" Elias's voice in my mind, alpha to alpha. "That's years of accumulated power. Every Silvermoon wolf who died, I claimed their strength. Every corrupted acre of land, I drew from. You can't match that."
"I don't need to match it." I gathered my power. "I just need to purify it."
I sent moonfire directly into the ground beneath his feet. The corrupted earth screamed as flames spread through it like roots. Elias yelped, leaping away as the dark magic sustaining him began to burn.
"Clever," he snarled. "But not clever enough."
He pulled more power from the packhouse itself, the building groaning as dark magic flooded into him. His form grew larger, more monstrous, twisted by the stolen energy.
Pain exploded across my ribs as his claws connected. I hit the ground hard, tasting blood.
Memories flashed—the cellar, the shackles, the years of abuse. Every moment I'd been powerless, helpless, broken.
No. Not anymore.
I stood, blood running down my side. "You want to see real Moonblood power? Let me show you."
I stopped fighting the corruption and instead embraced it. Let my fire touch every dark tendril, every twisted spell, every bit of stolen magic Elias had woven into Silvermoon.
And I purified it all at once. The explosion of light knocked everyone back. The packhouse shuddered as dark magic was ripped from its foundations. The land screamed as corruption burned away in massive waves.
Elias shrieked as his stolen power evaporated, leaving him ordinary, vulnerable, just another alpha without dark magic to hide behind.
I hit him with everything I had.Moonfire wrapped around his legs, burning through fur and flesh. He shifted back to human form, scrambling away, but there was nowhere to run.
I advanced, flames dancing across my skin. "This is for my mother." Fire engulfed his right arm.
"This is for my father." His left arm.
"This is for every Silvermoon wolf you've corrupted." His chest, burning but not killing.
"And this" I grabbed him by the throat, moonfire channeling directly into his body, "is for stealing my birthright and thinking you'd get away with it."
He collapsed, gasping, powerless. The circle fell silent. Everyone stared—my pack in awe, his in horror. I should kill him. He deserved it, years of murder, corruption, lies.
But as I stood over him, fire ready to end his life, I saw Zara's face in my mind. My daughter, who would grow up knowing what kind of Luna I was.
Did I want her to see me as a killer? Or as someone strong enough to show mercy?
"I could burn you alive," I said quietly. "Watch you suffer the way my people suffered. But I won't."
I released him, stepping back. "I won't become what you are. The cycle of violence ends here."
Elias coughed, blood staining his lips. "You're... a fool."
"Maybe." I looked around the circle, at the wolves watching. "But I'm a fool with a choice, you never gave anyone that."
"What... what are you going to do?"
"Strip you of your alpha status. Exile you to the Northlands with nothing—no power, no pack, no legacy." I knelt beside him. "You'll live knowing that mercy—the thing you never showed others—is what spares you now. That the Luna you called weak chose to let you survive."
I stood, addressing the gathered Silvermoon wolves. "I am Lira Ashborne, daughter of Vera Ashborne, rightful Luna of Silvermoon. Does anyone challenge my claim?"
Silence. Then, one by one, the Silvermoon wolves shifted to human form and knelt.
"Luna," an older woman whispered, tears streaming. "We've waited so long."
The weight of it crashed over me. These were my people. My mother's people.
Kael appeared at my side. "You did it."
"We're not done yet." I looked at Elias, pathetic and broken on the ground. "He needs to confess. Everything. Before witnesses."
Two of our warriors dragged him upright. "Tell them," I commanded, alpha power threading through my words. "Tell them about the conspiracy. About the massacre. All of it."
And in a voice ragged with defeat, Elias Thornfield began to confess.
He told them about Magnus Thorn's ambition to expand Darkfang territory. About the coalition of five alphas who'd planned Silvermoon's destruction. About Elder Garrick's participation, driven by fear of the prophecy.
About how his own father had been promised Silvermoon leadership in exchange for his role in the massacre.
About how Elias had murdered that same father when guilt threatened to expose them all, years of secrets, spilling into the open.
When he finished, I looked at the witnesses—my pack, his pack, Nicolas with tears streaming down his face.
"Justice has been served," I said. "Now comes the hard part. Healing."
Selene Darkmoon stepped forward from where she'd been observing. "The supernatural council will need to hear this confession."
"They will." I met her ancient gaze. "Along with my formal claim to Silvermoon. I'm taking back what was stolen from my bloodline."
"And what will you do with it?" Selene asked. "Rule two packs? Divide your loyalty?"
I looked at Nicolas, at the Silvermoon wolves kneeling before me, at Kael standing strong at my side. "I'll do what my mother would have wanted," I said. "I'll make Silvermoon whole again. But first”
I turned to the packhouse, gathering my power one more time. Silver fire poured from my hands, engulfing the corrupted building. But this wasn't a destructive flame—it was purifying, cleansing, and restoring.
The dark magic burned away. The twisted stones straightened. The building transformed before our eyes, becoming what it once was—beautiful, strong, home.
When the flames faded, the Silvermoon packhouse stood pristine and whole.
"Now," I said, swaying slightly from the effort, "now it's ready for its true alpha."
Kael caught me as my knees buckled. "You need rest."
"I need to go home." I looked up at him. "To our daughter."
"Soon." He held me close. "But first, you need to address your people. Both packs."
He was right. I had two packs now, two territories, two sets of wolves looking to me for leadership.
But as I stood in the circle where my mother died, now purified and restored, I realized something. I didn't want to rule Silvermoon. I wanted it whole, protected, thriving—but not under my direct control.
Because my home was Darkfang. My family was there. My daughter was there. And I knew exactly who deserved to lead Silvermoon in my place. But that conversation could wait until tomorrow.