Chapter 105 Hundred and nine
“You’re wasting time, Zane. Either break the door or move aside.”
Renna’s voice sliced through the cold corridor, sharp enough to draw blood.
Zane didn’t look back at her. His shoulders rose and fell in heavy breaths, the veins along his forearms standing out as he pressed both hands against the carved wooden doors of the abandoned council hall. The moonlight behind them painted his tall frame in a pale glow, turning the dust swirling in the air into silver smoke.
“It opens tonight,” he muttered. “One way or another.”
Renna stepped beside him, her long crimson cloak dragging across the stone floor. Her hair, dark, glossy, deadly, spilled over her shoulders as she leaned close to him. “Then open it, Alpha. Your followers are waiting.”
Zane exhaled slowly and pushed harder. The ancient doors groaned, resisting him like old kings refusing to be dethroned. Behind him, a crowd of defectors, the angry, the grieving, the power-hungry, watched with tense anticipation. Their clothes were travel-worn, armor dented, weapons drawn. Faces hungry for direction.
Renna lifted her chin, a smile spreading. “They’re ready for you. All they need is a king brave enough to take the throne Sienna abandoned.”
“She didn’t abandon anything,” Zane snapped.
Renna’s smile didn’t falter. “No? Then where is she? Hiding behind those crumbling walls? Clinging to a crown she doesn’t know how to use?”
Zane’s jaw tightened. He shoved his weight into the doors again. This time something cracked, soft, but real.
The defectors murmured, shifting restlessly.
Renna stepped in front of them, her voice rising like a practiced performer. “You all know what Sienna has become. A queen who kneels to a cursed monster. A queen who watches her Council die one by one while pretending she still rules a kingdom.”
Some of the rebels growled in agreement. Some exchanged uncertain glances.
Zane shot her a warning look. “Renna, ”
“I’m telling them what they already whisper,” she said lightly. “I’m just removing the whisper part.”
The doors shuddered once more, then finally broke open with a thunderous crack. Dust exploded into the room. Zane staggered forward but didn’t fall. He stood tall, chest rising with his breath as the council hall revealed itself in gloom and shadows.
Renna moved beside him, her eyes glowing faintly in the dim light. “Go on. They need a leader.”
Zane’s voice came low. “They need the truth.”
“The truth,” Renna said, her smile becoming razor-thin, “is what a king says it is.”
Before he could answer, the crowd surged forward, filling the hall like a flood. Torches were lit. Shadows danced along the cracked pillars and shattered council seats. The place smelled of old smoke and old lies.
Zane stepped into the center of the room. He looked up at the broken crest of the Moon Court carved into the ceiling, a symbol of unity now fractured down the middle. He swallowed hard, as if tasting the old world one last time before destroying it.
A young rebel stepped forward. “Alpha Zane. What happens now?”
Zane lifted his head. His eyes hardened.
“Now,” he said quietly, “we rebuild what the Council corrupted.”
Murmurs rose. Renna’s eyes gleamed.
“And the queen?” someone called out.
Zane inhaled sharply. “Sienna is still, ”
Renna cut in smoothly. “Sienna can no longer lead. You’ve all seen the signs. Hesitation. Fear. A bond with a creature that tears her kingdom apart.”
“She’s not weak,” Zane growled.
“Then where is she?” Renna countered. “Why is she hiding while her people bleed?”
Silence fell.
Zane’s hands flexed at his sides. “She’s trying to protect the realm.”
“By letting the Council slaughter dissenters?” Renna asked. “By letting Ryder’s curse spread across the borders?”
Zane’s breathing turned uneven. He didn’t deny it. Couldn’t.
Renna stepped closer to him, her voice dropping so only he could hear. “You love her. But she doesn’t love you. Not enough to save you from what’s coming. Not enough to save anyone.”
His eyes closed for a moment. A long, painful moment.
Then he opened them again, colder than before.
Renna turned back to the crowd. “This realm needs strength. It needs certainty. It needs a king who will fight for his people, not hide behind divine whispers and cursed lovers.”
The rebels’ voices grew louder.
“A new king!”
“Zane! Zane will lead!”
“Down with the Council!”
Renna raised her arms, silencing them instantly. “Swear yourselves tonight. Stand with him, and you stand for a kingdom free of fear.”
She turned toward Zane, her voice softening enough to sound almost sincere. “Take your throne.”
Zane hesitated, just long enough for a crack to show in his resolve.
Renna stepped closer. “Do it for them.”
He turned toward the central council platform. The place where Sienna had once stood. The place where their ancestors had shaped the laws of their world. He climbed the steps slowly, each footstep echoing through the vast hall.
When he reached the top, he looked down at the rebels below. Their faces glowed with expectation. Hope. Desperation.
He inhaled deeply.
“Tonight,” he said, “we reclaim our future. Not through fear. Not through curses. But through unity.”
Renna’s lips curved upward. She moved toward a shattered piece of the old Moon Crest, a broken arc of the symbol that once crowned the council. She lifted it carefully and placed it at Zane’s feet.
“Kneel,” she whispered.
Zane stared at it. His heartbeat thundered in his ears. Images flickered through his mind, Sienna smiling, Sienna bleeding, Sienna standing alone in a burning hall. He exhaled softly and dropped to one knee.
The rebels erupted into shouts.
Renna touched his shoulder gently. “Rise, my king.”
He rose.
The hall trembled with the force of hundreds of voices chanting his name. The air tasted like iron and revolution. Dust showered from the ceiling. Outside, wolves howled in answer.
Renna leaned in and murmured, “Now the kingdom will burn for you.”
Zane didn’t look at her. Didn’t speak. His fists clenched at his sides.
But there was no turning back.
At the far end of the hall, unseen by the cheering rebels, a shadow moved. A messenger slipped through a cracked window, panting hard, eyes wide with terror. He stumbled toward the platform.
“Alpha,” he gasped. “You must see this.”
Zane frowned. “What is it?”
“Smoke,” the messenger whispered. “From the western borders.”
The hall fell abruptly quiet.
Renna’s smile vanished.
Zane stepped down from the platform, his breath sharp in his chest. “What kind of smoke?”
The messenger lifted a trembling hand toward the window.
“Moon Court soldiers,” he said. “They’ve been ambushed.”
Zane’s face drained of color. “By who?”
The messenger swallowed. “By someone wearing the crest of the old Alpha King.”
Renna’s breath caught.
Zane stared toward the dark window, where the distant horizon glowed with rising fire.
And somewhere beyond that flame, footsteps began moving toward them, slow, deliberate.
For the first time that night, Zane felt a cold ripple of fear crawl along his spine.