Chapter 18 — The Ruins of the Old Moon Court

Dawn crept over the realm like a thief, cold fingers clawing at the valley where the ruins of the Old Moon Court slept under snow and rotting vines. Ariana Thorn stood on a crumbling archway, her boots balanced on stone older than Kael's bloodline. Below her, the rogues moved like shadows in the frost — no banners, no horns. Just wolves and hunger and the promise of Kael's bones ground to dust.

Lucian joined her in the archway, his breath ghosting over her ear as he watched the horizon bleed gold. He didn't speak — they'd done all their talking in the dark hours, when plans were carved into the dirt with claws and whispered into each other's skin.

"It feels wrong," Ariana murmured, eyes narrowed on the broken marble steps where Kael's Elders would stand to pass judgment. "This place was built for kings — not tyrants."

Lucian's arm brushed hers. "Then we remind them what a true king looks like."

She huffed a dry laugh, but her wolf paced restlessly. The air tasted thick, heavy with the stench of Kael's spies. Somewhere out there, behind the crumbling pillars and skeletal trees, his royal guard waited to drag her back in chains.

She almost pitied them.

At dawn's full break, the rogues crept into the heart of the ruins — a wide courtyard cracked with age and moon symbols half-buried under weeds. Ariana crouched, running her claws through the faded runes. She could feel them humming — the old bloodline whispering secrets up her spine.

Kade, wrists bound, limped behind her, guided by Mira's blade at his back. He spat a glob of blood at the stones. "You're walking straight into Kael's claws, Thorn."

Ariana stood, flicking her hair over her shoulder. "If you're so sure, you should have stayed at his heel."

Lucian's chuckle was a growl. "Careful, traitor. The next one to test her gets fed to the hounds."

Kade just grinned, though his eyes flickered with something like fear when they landed on the ancient altar at the far end of the courtyard. An iron stake still jutted from its center — the same one Ariana's ancestors had used to bind the moon's favor to their line. Or so the stories said.

Mira leaned close, her voice a harsh whisper. "Doesn't feel like a place for a trap."

Ariana turned her gaze to the trees beyond the crumbling walls — the hush of branches gave her an answer.

"It's not the place. It's the people."

The Elders arrived before noon — a half-circle of hooded figures in heavy furs and silver-threaded sashes. Kael's crown dogs trailed behind them, armor polished, weapons sharp enough to carve the bones from a traitor's throat.

Ariana stepped forward, crown in one hand, the other resting on the hilt of her dagger. She didn't bow. Didn't even pretend.

Elder Morcant stepped forward first — old, brittle, eyes sharp as flint under his heavy hood. "Ariana Thorn," he rasped, his voice echoing off the ruined walls. "Daughter of Alaric Thorn, once Alpha of the Silver Spine. You stand accused of treason, blasphemy, and the theft of the Thorn's Crown."

A ripple of growls from the rogues behind her. Lucian's hand landed on her lower back, steady as iron.

Ariana tilted her head. "Funny. I thought it was mine by birthright."

Morcant's lips peeled back. "Birthright means nothing if you cannot hold it."

She bared her teeth. "Try me."

Kael didn't appear right away. He let the tension strangle the ruins first — the Elders sneering, the royal guards tightening their circle, rogues bristling at the edges. Ariana's wolf itched under her skin, claws pushing through her palms.

Then he stepped through the fallen arch.

Alpha Kael — tall, cold beauty wrapped in black leathers and silver chains. His hair was longer than she remembered, dark as raven wings, his eyes still that shade of winter that had once made her sixteen-year-old heart stagger.

She didn't feel a single flutter now. Just the old burn of betrayal, sharp as the night he'd thrown her aside before the pack.

"My Thorn," he purred, voice coiling through the courtyard. "Still wearing crowns that don't fit."

Lucian's growl was pure frost. Ariana rested her hand on his forearm, but her eyes never left Kael.

"This one fits fine," she said. "Would you like to try it on your corpse?"

Kael's laugh was low and sweet — it crawled down her spine like a snake. "You always had a vicious tongue. Shame you never learned when to bite it."

He raised a hand. At his signal, two guards dragged a figure forward — hooded, wrists bound in silver. Ariana's wolf lunged at the cage of her ribs when she caught the scent — old pine, wild roses, a heartbeat she'd never forget.

Her mother.

The world lurched sideways. For a moment, Ariana saw not the ruins but a snowstorm in the Silver Spine woods — a young girl chasing her mother's laugh, stumbling through drifts, the scent of wolves heavy on the wind.

Kael yanked the hood free. There she was — Lyra Thorn. Older, thinner, her hair shot through with white, but her eyes still the same fierce silver.

"Mother," Ariana breathed. Her claws bit into Lucian's wrist where she clung to him.

Lyra lifted her chin, eyes locking on hers — no fear. Only pride. Only sorrow.

Kael's grin was a blade. "You thought you were the only Thorn worth breaking? I kept her alive for this moment, my love."

Lucian bared his teeth. "Touch her and I'll rip your throat out."

Kael ignored him. His gaze pinned Ariana, bright and cold. "Bow to me now. Hand me the crown — your rogues, your rebellion, your petty dreams of ruling. Do this, and your mother walks away."

Ariana's wolf howled, tearing at her throat. She felt every eye on her — the rogues ready to die for her word, the Elders smirking behind their hoods, Kade watching with something like triumph coiled in his bruised grin.

She wanted to break. To hurl the crown at Kael's feet and take her mother's hand, drag her far from these cursed ruins.

But Lyra Thorn's voice cut through the chaos, strong and clear.

"Do not kneel, child."

Ariana's eyes stung. "Mother—"

Lyra's chin lifted higher, even as the guards pressed their blades to her throat. "We are the blood of the moon. Thorns do not bow. Not to tyrants. Not even for each other."

Kael's face twisted. He grabbed Lyra's hair, yanking her head back, claws grazing her pulse. Ariana snarled, Lucian straining at her side, half-shifted and ready to kill.

"Last chance," Kael hissed. "Kneel."

Ariana stepped forward, crown in one hand, dagger in the other.

"Kneel," Kael barked.

Ariana lifted the crown — and dropped it onto her own head.

"Never again," she said.

Kael's roar ripped through the ruins.

Chaos broke. Rogues lunged from the shadows, jaws wide, fangs gleaming. Elders scrambled for cover, guards swung their blades — steel and claw clashed under the ghostly moon symbols.

Ariana's world narrowed to Kael and her mother. Lucian slammed into the guards, ripping one's throat out with his teeth. Blood sprayed the marble steps.

Kael shoved Lyra to the ground, stepping over her like discarded meat. He lunged for Ariana — and met her dagger instead. It sank between his ribs, hot blood spurting over her hands.

He laughed, gasping as he staggered back. "You think you can kill me, Thorn?"

Ariana's eyes blazed. "I don't have to kill you."

She twisted the blade — and Lucian tackled Kael to the ground, claws tearing at his chest.

Rogues dragged Lyra away from the fray. Kade, his bindings half-broken, caught Ariana's arm. "Go! The Elders are fleeing. Finish it!"

Ariana pulled free. She met her mother's eyes — Lyra nodded once, tears shining like starlight.

"Run, child," her mother mouthed.

But Ariana didn't run. She yanked Kael's crown from his head, holding it up like a trophy as his guards broke under the rogues' fury.

When the fighting died, dawn bled fully over the Old Moon Court. The ruins were no longer silent — they sang with the ragged breath of wolves who'd refused to kneel.

Ariana stood atop the altar where so many kings had lied and bled. Kael's crown dangled from her claws — a hollow thing, tarnished with old betrayals.

She turned to her rogues, to Lucian at her side, to Lyra Thorn leaning on Mira's shoulder.

"We bury the old moon tonight," Ariana said, her voice steady, her wolf howling in the bones of the ancient stones.

"And tomorrow," she promised, lifting the Thorn's Crown high above her head, "we rise anew."