Chapter 3 Spark of Power
Luna’s POV
I can't get my hands to quit shaking.
With broken chains on my wrists and silver that has been blackened at the edges, I stand by myself in the muddy clearing. With their blades shining in the moonlight, Kael's warriors surround me as they hunt down the remaining outlaws.
At my feet, some of the rogues are dead. A few scuttle off into the darkness.
But they go unnoticed. They look at me.
Like, I am the monster in this place.
In the chilly air, my breath clouds. My chest heaves. The weird heat that snapped my bindings and hurled Kael back as if he were weightless still hums through my flesh.
I look down at my bare hands. They appear typical. Unclean. Tiny. However, I noticed the light. When I believed I was about to die, the strength within me came to life.
Who am I?
Kael rushes through his soldiers, and I look up. He has a split lip. Colder than the wind are his azure eyes. Afraid to stand too near me, his warriors move aside.
Just out of reach, Kael stops. Before he looks at me, I see him look at my hands.
"What did you do?" He has a harsh, low voice.
"—I'm not sure." My voice breaks. "It simply happened."
Slowly, like a predator around wounded prey, he encircles me. "The curse they are afraid of." The tales may be real.
When he raises his hand, I recoil. He tilts my face up and clutches my chin once again. "Observe me."
Yes, I do. He looks into my eyes to find answers that I don't have.
He gives a nearly pleased tongue-click. Little wolf. A tiny spark. Risky.
My chin jerks away. "I'm not your—"
Kael raises his opposite hand. In the torchlight, a thick collar of dull silver shines. His fingers crack. A leather strap with silver mesh laced through it is brought by one of his soldiers.
My throat becomes parched. "What is that?"
"A head-up," Kael remarks. "Power requires a restraint."
He secures my neck with the collar. Where it touches my skin, it burns. Even if my legs get weaker, I remain upright.
To secure the strap over my lips, the warrior gets down on his knees. A muzzle. Buckles made of silver. My cheeks are pricked by the metal.
Kael doesn't take his eyes off me as I fight. "I break you, little wolf; you break my chains again."
I try to talk, but my words are blocked by the muzzle. Every time I try, the silver bites.
My hair is flicked off my shoulder by Kael. "All right. Quiet. Lovely.
He turns to his troops and takes a step back. "Clean up this mess. Bring her to the stronghold.
Like a beast of stone and iron, the Ironfang stronghold emerges from the cold woods. With torches blazing on each tower, the walls are tall and jagged. On the ramparts, wolves stand watch, their eyes gleaming in the darkness.
Through a hefty gate, they drag me. No one helps me stand up when my feet slip on the ice.
The air is worse indoors. Wet walls and cold stone. The smell of moist fur and old blood.
I'm pushed inside a tiny stone room. Only a little barred slit in the thick door, no windows.
The guard locks me in, and the chains clatter. He remains silent. There is stillness as the door slams shut.
I bring my knees to my chest and sink to the floor. My neck gets pinched by the collar. Breathing is difficult due to the muzzle.
My fingertips hiss when they come into contact with the metal when I attempt to touch the collar. I suppress a whimper.
I shut my eyes. My thoughts stray to Rowan in the darkness. To his eyes, as I was turned down. To the gentle murmur of Elder Mireya: Live, Moonborn.
My hands shake once more.
The quiet is broken by a faint sound: a scrape of metal, light footfall.
I quickly sit up. The door just cracks open. A tiny figure quickly closes it after slipping in.
A girl, about my age or younger. Her back was adorned with a braid of dark brown hair. She is holding a bundle of cloth.
She freezes when she sees me. Her warm brown eyes, flecked with small gold, enlarge at my face's muzzle.
"Oh," she exhales, " Moon." She kneels next to me, her hands lightly but not too closely caressing the collar. "Silver. You were muzzled by them? Stupid people.
She reaches for the strap, and I wince. She pauses. "Am I able to? Only to assist?
With tears of gratitude burning in my eyes, I nod.
She loosens the muzzle somewhat enough that I can breathe more easily, but not enough to take it off completely. "There." Better?
I swallow. Though my throat hurts, I manage to speak. "Who—who are you?"
She gives a slight but pleasant smile. Make a call. Rose Calla. I deliver nourishment to the cells. Other things, sometimes.
She unfolds the bundle of fabric, revealing a tin cup of water, a slice of dried cheese, and stale bread. I haven't smelled anything this good in days.
I grab for it, then drop it. "Why assist me?"
Calla shrugs. "You're different from them."
I stifle a laugh. "They claim that I'm worse."
Her look softens. She tears the bread in half as she sits next to me, cross-legged. They claim that I am also cursed. They killed my mother, a healer, when I was a baby. Claimed that she used magic that was prohibited. So, like you, I grew up in the cellars.
The bread scratches my throat as I chew carefully. "You're unfamiliar with me."
She leans in and adds, "I know enough." "You damaged silver chains." Nobody does that. Except if you're something more.
My heart leaps. "More?"
Calla speaks more softly. The Luna Trials are reportedly about to begin. They might include you in them.
I scowl. "What are they?"
She seemed to be terrified that the door would open as she looked at it. The Luna Trials are ancient, revered examinations. They locate the Moon-selected leader of all packs. They haven't been passed in decades. Most people die trying.
I tighten my grip on my knees. "I'd rather not be in charge. All I desire is freedom.
Calla softly and warmly touches my hand. Then go live. Make it through the difficulties. In them, discover your independence.
I feel a tiny, obstinate spark ignited by her words. A spark.
Calla jumps when she hears a gentle thud. Outside, heavy boots.
She quickly gathers her bundle. "I must leave. Take caution. Additionally, keep in mind that you are not who they claim you are.
She disappears like a shadow through the door before I can thank her. Behind her, the slot clicks shut.
Sleep comes in fragments that night.
I vacillate between dreams and pain. I'm standing in a silver forest in a dream. The moonlight illuminates the woods. My bare feet are surrounded by swirling mist.
A massive wolf with eyes like mine and fur like starlight is the shape that awaits us. Burning in the dark, amber.
It moves in closer. I'm not afraid. Just warmth.
"Who are you?" I say.
In the forest, there is a voice that is strong, gentle, and ancient.
Moonborn.
The wolf howls and raises its head. The music beckons to something deep within me, vibrates my bones, and shakes the trees.
With a gasp, I awaken, gripping the collar. My hair gets wet from sweat.
A darkness shifts in my cell's corner. I slam back against the wall as my heart soars.
The figure advances. Mireya, the elder.
Her bones fracture as she kneels slowly. The torchlight gleams in her green eyes.
"Mireya." My voice cracks. "What brings you here?"
She brushes my matted hair away from my face as she reaches between the bars. "To be honest with you."
My eyes sting from tears. "Am I doomed?"
"No, kid." She smiles with pride and sadness. "You have been selected. The Moon's promise is the mark on your shoulder. The Moonborn is you.
I give a headshake. "I brought shame," they remarked. I was sold by them. Why?
"Because they're afraid of what you can accomplish." Mireya's voice becomes hardly audible. "You have the power to change outdated laws and break old chains." Darius and other wolves would sooner murder you than let you go free.
I grip the bars tightly. "This is not what I want."
She uses the iron to cup my cheek. "It is yours whether you want it or not. You also have to survive. Make it through the trials. They will bury you forever if you don't discover your strength.
My heart thuds. "Rowan"
Mireya's eyes grow gloomy. "You don't realise how much Raven loves you. However, his secrets are profound. Luna Belle, have faith in your strength. Not the promise of men.
Footsteps thunder outside before I can ask any more questions. Mireya retreats, vanishing into the darkness.
The door of the cell slams. Kael intervenes, with two guards at his sides.
With cautious, icy eyes, he looks down at me after glancing at Mireya's empty corner.
"Arise."
My legs are trembling. The collar penetrates further. The muzzle returns to its position with a click.
Kael snaps his fingers after circling me once. The guards seize my arms and pull me down a stone hallway with torches flickering.
They come to a halt in a spacious room with a straw-lined floor and claw marks on the walls. Warriors observe from a half circle.
I'm pushed into the ring by Kael.
"Shift," he orders.
I shake my head, my stomach churning with anxiety. "I—I can't—"
Kael narrows her look. "You can. Or you perish trying.
He takes a step forward. There's a hiss in his voice. Demonstrate the strength they fear. Or demonstrate your insignificance.
My wolf stirs, and the mark on my shoulder burns hot, sending pain through my chest. I can't hold it, though. My legs tremble. My vision becomes blurry.
Once more, Kael snaps his fingers. A warrior swings a silver-tipped rod at my back. When my knees strike the straw, I scream.
Half shift, half beast, my bones fracture and shift. I feel pain tearing through me. However, it ends in the middle. My entire body quivers. Gasping, I collapse forward, caught between shapes.
Kael chuckles. "Pathetic."
His breath is cool against my ear as he kneels next to me. "Weak stuff. But it will be decided by the Trials.
He touches the collar chain with his fingertips. He chokes me by pulling it tight.
"You will be mine if you survive," he murmurs in a low, venomous voice. You will die forgotten if you fail.