Chapter 54 Mother Capture
Tiara hit the ground rolling, blades flashing as two NightFang sentries lunged at her from opposite sides.
She didn’t slow.
Steel met bone. One howl cut short. The other wolf slammed into a tree with a wet crack as her kick landed squarely in his chest. Tiara rose in one smooth motion, breath steady, eyes burning silver under the Blood Moon’s glow.
“Clear,” she signed sharply.
Shadows shifted behind her as her strike team melted out of the darkness—three SilverShield elites, silent and lethal. No battle cries. No wasted movement. This wasn’t a war.
This was a rescue.
Her mother was somewhere ahead. Chained. Alive.
Tiara felt it.
Her wolf paced violently beneath her skin, every instinct screaming toward the east. The pull was so strong it made her teeth ache. Each step closer sent heat through her veins, the Blood Moon pressing against her like a living force.
Focus, she ordered herself.
The NightFang stronghold loomed between jagged rocks, its perimeter warded with dark runes that pulsed faintly red. Tiara crouched, fingers brushing the symbols. They hissed under her touch.
“A trap,” one of her lieutenants whispered.
“I know,” Tiara said softly. “They want me inside.”
She stood.
And walked straight through.
The air shifted the moment she crossed the threshold.
The world narrowed. Sound dulled. Her senses sharpened to a knife’s edge. Every heartbeat around her echoed like a drum. NightFang wolves stepped out of hiding one by one, forming a slow, deliberate circle.
A test.
Her lips curled. “You should’ve brought more.”
They attacked together.
Tiara moved like moonlight given flesh.
She ducked beneath claws, twisted, slammed her elbow into a throat, spun and drove her blade up through a ribcage. Dark energy lashed toward her—she raised a hand instinctively, silver aura flaring, the spell shattering against it like glass.
Still, they kept coming.
Too coordinated. Too patient.
Her wolf snarled. This wasn’t meant to kill her.
It was meant to exhaust her.
A sudden wave of pressure crashed into her mind—whispers, memories not her own, fear threaded with doubt.
You failed her once.
Tiara staggered, breath hitching.
“No,” she growled.
Her mother’s voice echoed in her head, distant and strained. Run, Tiara.
The distraction cost her.
Chains snapped out of the shadows, wrapping around her arms and torso, glowing with suppressive runes. Tiara slammed to her knees, a grunt torn from her throat as the magic bit deep.
“Alpha Aria Blackmoon,” a smooth voice drawled. “Still reckless.”
The NightFang leader stepped forward, eyes gleaming with cruel satisfaction.
“You wanted your mother?” he continued. “Come see her.”
The ground split open ahead.
Tiara’s breath stopped.
Her mother hung suspended in the chamber below, wrists bound in enchanted chains, silver hair matted with blood, head bowed. Bruised. Bruised—but breathing.
“Mother!” Tiara shouted, straining against the bindings.
Her mother’s head lifted slowly. Their eyes met.
Pain flickered there—then pride.
“Don’t,” her mother rasped. “Don’t let them break you.”
The leader chuckled. “Oh, but that’s exactly what we’re doing.”
The chains tightened.
Agony ripped through Tiara’s body, magic draining, her wolf thrashing violently inside her chest. Her vision blurred, red and silver bleeding together.
Tiara.
Damien’s voice cut through the pain—clear, steady, intimate.
I’m here.
Her breath hitched. “They trapped me,” she whispered mentally, shame burning hotter than the pain.
I know, Damien replied calmly. Feel me. Anchor.
She closed her eyes.
Their bond flared—warm, solid, unyielding. His presence wrapped around her, grounding her, pushing back the invading magic.
You are not alone, he said. You never were.
The leader frowned. “Interesting. The bond is stronger than we anticipated.”
Tiara smiled—slow, dangerous.
“That’s because you still don’t understand what I am.”
She inhaled deeply.
And let go.
Her wolf broke free with a roar that shook the cavern.
Silver fire exploded outward, shattering the chains like brittle twigs. Tiara surged to her feet, aura blazing so brightly the NightFang wolves recoiled, shielding their eyes.
The Blood Moon answered.
Power poured into her veins—wild, ancient, intoxicating. The ground cracked beneath her boots. Her eyes burned molten silver, veins glowing like living runes.
She didn’t feel pain anymore.
She felt unstoppable.
The NightFang leader stumbled back. “Impossible—!”
Tiara moved.
She crossed the distance in a blink, slamming him into the stone wall with enough force to crater it. Wolves lunged at her—she tore through them effortlessly, every strike fueled by instinct and fury.
She reached her mother, ripping the chains apart with bare hands.
“I’ve got you,” Tiara said, voice trembling despite the power raging inside her.
Her mother cupped her face weakly. “You’re stronger than the prophecy,” she whispered. “But the Blood Moon… it will demand a price.”
Tiara stiffened.
Above them, the crimson moon burned brighter.
And far away, enemies felt it—and smiled.
The Blood Moon had begun its claim.