Chapter 38: Alpha King of the Lunar Wilds
—Narrated by Eli Whitmore
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The Wild Gate Awakens
The Gate Way opened once more.
But this time… it howled.
Winds rushed past us as silver light broke through the mist like moonbeams cutting into shadow. A pulse of primal magic rippled from the Gate's center—raw, ancient, and untamed.
I felt it before we even stepped through—this realm wasn't calm, or warm, or gentle.
It was alive.
Thorne placed a hand on the hilt of his blade. "This one's different."
"Wilder," Draven added. "It doesn't wait. It hunts."
Luna stepped forward, her silver eyes gleaming. "The Lunar Wilds. Home of the Wolfblood Pact."
Felix looked up at the swirling moon above the gate. "It's the last of the Seven. After this, the circle will be complete."
Ryker nodded. "Then let's not waste time."
I took a breath—and led us through.
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The Realm of Moon and Fang
The wind hit us first—cold and sharp, like running through the night.
Then came the trees.
Massive, towering pines and oaks reached into the clouds, their trunks glowing faintly under the full moon's silver gaze. Moss stretched like velvet over stones, and glowing mushrooms blinked like stars among roots. The forest was vast. Untouched. Alive with eyes.
Somewhere, a wolf howled.
Ryker flinched. "I don't like the feeling of being watched."
"We are," Draven replied flatly.
Luna stepped beside me. "This land feels like instinct. Like truth with its teeth out."
Felix whispered, "And the moon above… it's judging us."
I felt it too.
The Lunar Wilds weren't meant for diplomacy or delicate words.
This was the place of trial by truth. Trial by bloodline.
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We reached a clearing bathed in silver moonlight. The silence was thick… until the shadows moved.
A figure stepped forward from the trees.
Tall. Broad. Dressed in furs and leather armor woven from moonthread. His eyes glowed golden under the moon, and two scars crossed his cheek like lightning bolts. He radiated authority—raw, heavy, and unshakable.
Zarek Voss.
Alpha King of the Lunar Wilds.
He looked us over slowly, then growled a single word:
"Outsiders."
I stepped forward. "We're here to unite the realms. We've been to the Celestial Order, Infernal Peaks, the Sacred Springs, the Eternal Sea, and the Enchanted Forest. We come seeking the aid of the Wilds."
Zarek's lips curled into something between a smirk and a snarl. "You've walked through magic, fire, and sorrow. But here? You walk through instinct."
Thorne's gaze narrowed. "What does that mean?"
Zarek circled us like a predator. "It means here, truth isn't spoken. It's smelled. It's seen. If you want the blessing of the Wild, then show me your true selves. Not the ones you present. The ones you bury."
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The full moon rose higher—and suddenly, the clearing transformed.
Each of us was pulled apart—not physically, but spiritually. We saw… versions of ourselves. Reflected in silver pools beneath our feet.
Felix saw himself surrounded by stars—but shivering, alone. "I always felt too bright. Like I'd blind the people I love."
Ryker stood beside a storm, drenched and angry. "I push people away before they leave me."
Luna saw her light flickering. "Sometimes I think if I stop shining, everyone will fall apart."
Draven watched his reflection step back into chains. "I still believe I deserve to be punished."
Thorne faced a shadow version of himself—eyes glowing red, lost in power. "I fear… if I fall again, there'll be no one left to pull me back."
And I saw… me.
But younger.
And terrified.
Afraid that if I failed—everyone would die because of me.
My knees shook. My chest tightened.
Zarek's voice echoed across the clearing. "You cannot run in this realm. You must own the wild within you."
And then—he shifted.
Bones cracked. Muscles shifted.
Zarek Voss transformed into a towering midnight wolf with golden eyes, standing tall as a tree. His howl split the sky—and suddenly, we were tested.
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The Hunt of Truth
Wolves leapt from the forest—spirits made of mist and moonlight.
But they didn't attack to wound.
They attacked to reveal.
Each of us faced a spirit-wolf that mirrored our deepest doubt.
Felix battled one that outshone him.
Ryker fought a silent one—just like the cold he grew up with.
Luna's wolf dimmed her light.
Draven's chained him.
Thorne's dared him to lose control.
And mine?
Mine stood in silence. Watching.
Judging.
I gritted my teeth. "I am not my fear."
I called the Gate's magic, yes—but not to fight. To embrace.
I let the fear run through me like wind—and didn't run from it.
The wolf bowed.
So did the others.
Zarek, still in his wolf form, shifted back—power rolling off his shoulders like mist.
"You did not deny your beasts," he said. "You let them howl."
He reached behind him and drew a silver claw pendant.
"This is the Mark of the Wild Moon. Our final gift."
He pressed it into my seal—and I felt it burn, not in pain… but in freedom.
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Zarek faced us one last time.
"The Seven have spoken. The Stars. The Flame. The Spring. The Sea. The Forest. The Wild. and me—The Beacon of Light."
I looked down at my seal—now shimmering with all their marks.
Seven lights.
Seven blessings.
And yet…
It wasn't over.
Zarek narrowed his eyes. "There is still one who has not spoken."
I frowned. "Who?"
Zarek looked toward the distance.
"The Forgotten."
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The Circle of Seven is complete.
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To Be Continued…