Chapter 18

*Ronan*

He had seen everything he needed to see when it came to her. She may not be strong or powerful yet, not in the ways people assume power is presented. But her true nature, her true instinct, was pure. She would become a beautiful leader that their world desperately needs. The way the forest reacted around her, it was like she was the air, the moon, the stars and the sun. A representation of life being gifted back to the world.

The forest had already been humming for days like something ancient had begun to stir. My wolf felt it before I did—a shift in the earth, a stirring in the winds, something old waking from slumber. Then the whispers came. Quiet at first. The kind you ignore until the same words find you from too many mouths to dismiss.

The Nightshade line lives.

I brought my pack through the boundary just before moonrise. We travelled light but with purpose. The Hollowfang aren’t a large pack, not by the standards of old. We aren’t cushioned by cities or ranks or royal decrees. We are survivors. Warriors. Guardians of the forgotten code.

And we came to pledge ourselves to the heir of that code. The heir to what was brutally taken from us.

Sera was already waiting when we entered the glade, her presence cloaked in the same kind of magic that hangs like dew from the trees. She looked no different from when I’d seen her last years ago—older than time but sharper than any blade.

She watched us with the kind of stillness that made even Corren shift uneasily.

"Why have you come, Alpha Ronan?"

I knew she understood already why we were here. More would come. But she wanted to hear me say it. And I would gladly pledge myself. I bowed my head, the motion simple but meaningful. "To stand behind the Nightshade bloodline. To offer my sword and my pack."

"And what if she is not ready?"

"Then we wait," I said. "But the forest believes in her. So will we."

She didn't reply. She only turned and waved a hand toward the glade. "Then make camp."

So we did. My pack worked in practised unison to set up our new living arrangements.

It wasn’t long after that the air shifted again. My wolf perked up, sensing her before I saw her. I stepped out from the tent line and toward the circle of stones, already knowing what I’d see.

Aria.

She stepped from the trees with the grace of something born from the forest, not just guided by it. A soft glowing aura emitted from her. Like she was the moon herself. But beside her was a male—young, cautious, strong. Her stance remained calm, but the wolves around me reacted immediately.

Sera beat them to the question.

"Who is with you?"

The camp went still. Eyes narrowed. Limbs tensed. My pack already thought of Aria as ours. And they would protect her at any cost.

I stepped forward slightly, not interfering but making sure the wolves behind me didn’t make any sudden moves.

"He was a scout," Aria said. "From Kael. But he defected. He wants to serve me."

The male—Talon, as we would later learn—stepped forward. "I mean no harm. I swear by the moon and forest both. I saw what she was, and I couldn’t go back."

Sera questioned him. Challenged him. Her witchlight flared. When it faded, she confirmed what I suspected: the male was telling the truth.

Still, I didn’t relax. I mind-linked Corren.

"Keep tabs on him. Quietly. If Kael sent scouts, I want to know how many came and if any returned. Find out what he knows."

"Already on it," Corren replied.

Talon was a wolf. He carried strength in his stance and weariness in his eyes. Not a boy. A soldier. One who had turned his back on a king. I watched him closely as he knelt beside the fire later, silent, alert, but never overstepping.

Aria took her place in the glade, her presence commanding, even when she didn't speak. She didn’t come with fanfare or demand obeisance. She came like the moon—quiet, steady, powerful. I wondered what power she would wield. Would she inherit her mother’s power? Or would she be the most powerful of them all? 

The buzz around the camp was near-instant.

Hope bloomed like wildfire.

I saw it in the way warriors smiled at each other, in the way they stood a little taller. These weren’t just rogues clinging to stories anymore.

They believed.

And as I watched her—the way she moved, quiet but kind, observant and cautious—I understood why.

She watched my pack. Studied us like she wasn’t sure we were real. Like she didn’t believe any of it was meant for her.

She didn’t speak much, but when she did, she spoke with purpose. The way she refused to inherit loyalty and instead vowed to earn it—that struck deep.

I had known leaders who demanded thrones.

She never would.

She would rise because the forest rose with her.

She would rule because anyone who met her would understand that was what she was born to do.

My wolf growled low with approval. He believed in her, too, believed in Aria and her silver wolf. 

Earlier, I discussed her training with Sera, and we agreed that it should be increased and include combat, history, magic, and more. We would ensure she was ready for what would inevitably come.

I stood on the edge of the circle, watching her accept a carved cup from Mara, watching her sip tentatively, surrounded by wolves who had once only known exile. And I vowed, right there, that she would never feel like she didn’t belong again.

Whatever Kael had done to her, however, he had broken her. She was mending now.

And I would make sure the seams held.

Because Aria Nightshade wasn’t just the last heir.

Wasn’t just the lost princess. 

The lost hope of our world.

She was the future.

And we would burn down the world before letting her be lost again.