Chapter 39
Chapter 39
Chapter: The Fall under the Blood Moon
The clash of steel and claws thundered across the battlefield. The Cold Bloods had been decimated, the renegade Grays fled like cowards, yet the air grew heavy around a single point: the circle opened between corpses and blood, where Kilian and Jackson now faced each other.
Both alphas, towering like titans, studied one another with hatred and fury burning in their eyes. Kilian’s breathing was steady, Jackson’s ragged, but neither showed the slightest intent to retreat.
—At last, Kilian —Jackson said with a twisted smile, blood dripping from his chin—. So much spilling, so much sacrifice… and it all comes down to you and me.
Kilian growled, his gaze blazing like embers.
—This was never about war. Nor about power. Only about your diseased ambition.
Jackson laughed with disdain, his fangs glinting beneath the crimson light of the rising moon.
—You don’t understand, do you? She is mine. Luciana was always mine.
Kilian roared, his muscles straining as though they would burst through his own armor.
—Don’t call her that! —he thundered—. Her name is Abigaíl. She is my Luna. The mother of my child. And no one will take her from me!
The declaration struck like lightning, and a murmur rippled through the ranks. Even Jackson froze for an instant, disbelieving.
—A child? —he spat, his eyes widening with fury—. Damn you… that should have been mine!
He lunged at Kilian with a brutal roar, and so the true battle began.
The Duel beneath the Blood Moon
Claws clashed against blades, fangs sought throats as if to rip them clean. Their strength was monstrous, yet the blood-red moon seemed to make them even more savage, more untamed.
The warriors encircling the duel could not intervene. The code was clear: an alpha’s duel had to be decided by their own hands. The entire kingdom held its breath.
Jackson struck with frenzied hatred, each blow fueled by madness. Kilian answered with lethal precision, every strike a reminder of who the true alpha was.
—She never loved you! —Kilian spat as he hurled his blade straight toward Jackson’s chest.
Jackson, blocking with his bloodied forearm, snarled: —Luciana was mine before she died, and before you appeared!
—She never belonged to you! —Kilian growled, ripping into his shoulder with a savage slash—. Neither in her past nor now!
Blood soaked the earth. They moved like shadows, but exhaustion began to seep into their muscles.
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The Call of the Moon
In the fortress, Abigaíl felt the burn of the mark on her skin. It was as if her flesh itself was set aflame from within. Her heart pounded in rhythm with her alpha’s blows, every wound Kilian took tore at her as if it were her own.
She clutched her belly, gasping.
—Kilian…
A dreadful premonition seized her. She could no longer remain trapped inside. With trembling steps, she mounted a horse, and though guards tried to stop her, they failed. She rode toward the battlefield.
When she arrived, she saw them: two titans locked in combat beneath the glow of the blood moon. And her heart shattered.
—Kilian! —she screamed, her voice piercing the chaos.
He turned his face for the briefest instant, his eyes searching for hers. That moment of distraction was enough.
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The Betrayal of a Second
Jackson roared and seized the opening. His claws drove brutally into Kilian’s abdomen, tearing through flesh and muscle.
—No! —Abigaíl’s cry ripped through the night.
In a reflex, Kilian buried his own claws deep into Jackson’s side. They remained locked together, gasping for breath, blood spilling in torrents.
Jackson spat blood, but smiled, his eyes deranged.
—If she cannot be mine… then she will belong to no one.
With a final surge of strength, he gripped Kilian with both hands and dragged him toward the jagged cliff edge beside the field. Kilian fought back, but pain weakened him.
Both bodies plunged into the abyss.
Silence fell.
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The Cry of the Moon
—KILIAN! —Abigaíl’s scream tore through the night sky.
Her mark seared like living fire, glowing on her skin before darkening, as if extinguished forever. The pain was unbearable, beyond flesh—it was the very soul shattering.
She fell to her knees, her hands trembling, her body wracked with spasms. Her scream broke into sobs, until at last she lost consciousness and collapsed to the ground.
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The Roar of the Pack
Gabriel, the gamma, rushed to her side, followed by Ian, the beta. Both formed a human wall around their queen’s fallen body.
—Protect her! —Gabriel roared, tears burning in his eyes.
At the fall of their alpha and the cry of their luna, the northern wolves lifted their muzzles to the heavens. A mournful howl stretched across the battlefield, echoing without end—grief that swiftly turned into rage.
The blood moon shone upon them, and their fury broke free. Their bodies trembled, and with savage violence they hurled themselves upon the remnants of the Cold Bloods and the renegades.
It was a massacre.
Claws tore without mercy, fangs ripped flesh, and the battlefield became a river of blood. None were spared. There were no surrenders, no prisoners. The surviving alphas, in the name of their fallen king, annihilated everything.
The screams of enemies mingled with the furious howls. The air reeked of iron and death.
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Silence after the Storm
When it was over, silence reigned. Only corpses covered the ground, dyed red. The blood moon cast its cruel light upon the scene.
Gabriel and Ian stood guard beside Abigaíl, shielding her unconscious body, the mark on her skin darkened.
—Our alpha… —Ian murmured, his voice breaking—. Is he truly dead?
Gabriel clenched his teeth, staring at the abyss that had swallowed Kilian and Jackson.
—If he is… then we will avenge his name until our last breath. And we will protect his Luna, and the child she carries within her.
The wind howled across them, carrying the echo of the fall. No one knew whether Kilian had died or if the abyss had claimed him forever.
The only certainty was that the night had changed everything.
The fall of the alpha, and the grief of the luna, would mark a before and after in the history of the kingdom.