Chapter 57 Go Back To Where You Came From
Chapter 57 Go Back To Where You Came From
The scream that tore across the borders of Bookthorn Kingdom was not just heard with the ears. It was also felt.
Lucian staggered back as the Alpha bond in him slammed violently through his chest, and every instinct was screaming a warning. The protection spell that Maeve had cast before rippled like water struck by stone, and faint silver lines briefly flashed in the air before vanishing again.
“He’s forcing his way through,” Maeve gasped, clutching her staff. “He shouldn’t be able to...”
The ground split open at the northern border. The ancient earth was torn apart from below, and from it rose Eamon. He was not summoned nor was he invited.
He emerged as if the land itself had rejected him before and he refused to accept that answer.
Power rolled off him in crushing waves, with his silver eyes glowing unnaturally bright. The sky above darkened instantly, as the clouds spiraled inwardly as if drawn to his presence.
“So,” Eamon said, his voice echoed unnaturally across the kingdom, “you chose to disobey.”
Lucian stepped forward without hesitation, shifting into his wolf form halfway as claws tore free from his hands. “You don’t belong here anymore," he snarled.
Eamon smiled, it was a slow, dangerous curve on his lips. “This land was mine before you all even learned how to walk. Before you were born.”
Aria moved to Lucian’s side, with her shadows coiling tightly around her arms. “And now it belongs to the living.”
The moment her words fell, Eamon raised his hand. The ward shattered, not completely but enough to send a warning. A violent shockwave blasted outward, throwing the wolves from their feet. Screams rang out as the first line of the wolf defenders hit the ground hard.
“DEFENSIVE FORMATION!” Lucian roared. And they all moved instantly.
The shadowmoon wolves surged forward, some had fully shifted to their wolf form while others held their weapons. Rogues who had once fought only for survival now fought for something greater—home.
Eamon stepped into them like a god of old. His power struck like invisible blades, sending warriors flying, cracking shields, and tearing through magic like paper. Every movement he made bent the air around him.
“This is pointless,” Eamon said calmly, while hurling a warrior aside. “You cannot kill what the land sustains.”
Aria screamed in fury. Her shadows launched, it was thick and heavy, wrapping around Eamon’s legs and it dragged him to one knee. “Then we won't kill you,” she snarled. “We will drive you out.”
Maeve slammed her staff into the ground, chanting frantically as blue-white magic erupted around Eamon, binding him in a circle of runes. “By blood and boundary, by the will of the chosen—”
Eamon roared, making his powers explode outward. The runes shattered.
Lucian, who was half-shifted, leapt. He struck Eamon with full force, claws raking across his chest. For the first time, Eamon staggered back several steps, with blood darkening his armor.
The sight electrified the kingdom.
“He can bleed!” someone shouted.
“PUSH HIM BACK!”
They attacked together now.
Not as scattered wolves.
But as a kingdom.
Arrows that are laced with magic flew. Shadows struck from every angle. Most of the wolves shifted fully, tearing and snapping, forcing Eamon back inch by inch toward the ruptured border.
Aria stood at the center of it all, with moonlight blazing along her skin and her voice ringing like a bell of command. “We fight for Bookthorn! For Shadowmoon!”
The land trembled violently.
Eamon snarled loudly, finally losing his calm. “You don’t understand what you’re doing! If I fall, the seal will weaken—”
Lucian slammed into him again, forcing him backward. “Then you should have stayed dead.”
Eamon struck back with brutal force, hurling Lucian across the field. Aria screamed Lucian's name as he crashed into a broken wall, and he was not moving.
Something inside Aria snapped.
The moon broke through the clouds in a blinding flood of silver light.
Aria lifted into the air, with shadows and moonlight intertwining around her like wings.
“By the will of the Moon,” she cried out, her voice layered with something ancient and terrifying,
“By the choice of the living,
By the blood you no longer command— I COMMAND YOU TO LEAVE.”
The land answered her.
The ground beneath Eamon split wide, not opening inward—but pushing outward, forcing him back step by step toward the rift from which he had emerged.
He fought it, teeth bared, rage finally burning through his control. “You will regret this, Luna!”
Lucian staggered to his feet. He was bloodied but still standing. He roared—an Alpha’s roar that shook the walls—and every wolf answered.
They surged together. And with one final push, they pushed him back.
Eamon screamed as the land itself rejected him, dragging him backward into the fracture at the border. His fingers clawed at the stone as the rift began to close.
Before he vanished completely, his gaze locked onto Aria.
And he smiled.
Not in defeat.
In promise.
“This kingdom will fall,” he said softly. “And when it does… you’ll beg for me to return.”
Then the earth snapped shut.
Silence crashed down like a held breath that was finally released.
Slowly and painfully, the kingdom realized—Eamon was gone.
Cheers erupted. Wolves embraced. Some dropped to their knees in exhaustion, while others wept openly.
Lucian crossed the field in a few seconds and pulled Aria into his arms. “You did it.”
She shook her head, breath shaking. “We did it.”
Maeve collapsed nearby, utterly drained. “The spell is holding him down… but barely.”
Lucian frowned. “What do you mean?”
Maeve looked up at them, fear flickering in her eyes. “Driving him out of the kingdom, has tore something loose. The land is unstable now.”
Lucian’s Alpha instincts screamed danger.
“What have we just unleash?” he whispered.