Chapter 4 The Stone

• Chapter Four: The Fire Beneath the Stone
• They watched me like I was a curse.
• Silence met every step I took through the Nightfang den. Eyes followed. Whispers rose and fell behind stone walls. I didn’t belong here, and they made sure I never forgot it.
• “Moonless,” some called me.
• “Unmarked.”
• But what they didn’t know was that I heard them. Wolves think if you’re quiet, you’re weak. But I’d learned something in the Crescent Pack—silence is armor. It lets you listen. It lets you remember.
• And right now, I was remembering everything.
• Especially the way Ronan’s hand had lingered against my scar.
• I spent the next morning in the old library, tucked beneath the mountain’s spine. Dust floated in the air like snowflakes. Shelves carved from black stone stretched high above me, filled with scrolls and ancient tomes. Most of them were in languages I couldn’t read.
• But I wasn’t looking for stories.
• I was looking for proof.
• Moonborn. Moonfire. The gift frightened Crescent and made Ronan’s gaze darken with recognition.
• The scroll I found was half-burned, the ink faded—but the words still struck like thunder:
• In rare bloodlines, touched by the Moon herself, the flame is born inside.
• It does not consume. It remembers. It chooses.
• My hands trembled. Mira stirred in the back of my mind.
• That’s us, she whispered.
• But how? I’m just… me.
• You’re more than what they let you believe.
• A flicker of power pulsed beneath my skin, a warmth I couldn’t name. It didn’t hurt. It glowed. Like something ancient was stirring in my bones.
• “You shouldn’t be in here.”
• I spun.
• Eira stood in the doorway, arms crossed, gaze icy. Her armor caught the candlelight, sharp as her tone.
• “I’m not stealing anything,” I said calmly.
• “No. But you’re digging into things best left buried.”
• “Why? Because they scare you?”
• She stepped forward. “Because wolves like you bring death to the rest of us.”
• “I didn’t ask for this.”
• “None of us did. But we’re still bound by duty. You? You show up with no mark, no answers, and you think Ronan owes you something.”
• “I never said that.”
• She narrowed her eyes. “He’s the only reason you’re still breathing. Don’t confuse protection with affection.”
• Something dark flickered in her voice. Not jealousy. Not exactly.
• Loyalty. Old, unshakable loyalty.
• She had fought for Ronan. Bled for him. And now she saw me as a threat he didn’t need.
• Maybe she was right.
• But that didn’t mean I was backing down.
• “Tell your Alpha I’m not his responsibility,” I said quietly. “He can let me go.”
• Eira tilted her head, something unreadable in her eyes. “That’s not how he works. Once Ronan decides someone’s his, he doesn’t let go.”
• That night, I found Ronan on the training grounds, shirtless and slick with sweat, his fists wrapped in dark cloth. He was sparring with two warriors at once, moving like fire and thunder—faster, meaner, and smarter.
• I stood at the edge of the ring, silent.
• He noticed me instantly.
• One word from him, and both warriors stepped back, panting. Ronan grabbed a towel, wiped his face, and approached with slow, deliberate steps.
• “You shouldn’t be out here,” he said.
• “I’m healing. Not helpless.”
• His mouth curved, almost a smile. “You’ve got fire, I’ll give you that.”
• “I read about Moonborn today,” I said. “In your library.”
• His brow lifted. “And?”
• “It scared them, didn’t it? My old pack. The Elders. Maybe even Kai.”
• Ronan’s jaw tightened at the mention of Kai. “Most wolves fear what they can’t control.”
• “But you don’t.”
• “I’ve known worse monsters than you, Lupita.”
• I stepped closer. The air between us shifted.
• “I’m not a monster,” I said softly.
• “I never said you were.”
• “Then what am I to you?”
• He looked at me for a long moment.
• “You’re something the moon didn’t want hidden.”
• That stopped my breath.
• He reached out, brushing a damp strand of hair from my face. “You asked me why I helped you. I still don’t have an answer. But the longer you stay here, the less I care.”
• I should’ve stepped back.
• But I didn’t.
• Instead, I whispered, “You’re not what I expected, Ronan Vale.”
• He leaned closer, voice low. “Good. Because what’s coming… won’t be either.”
• The explosion hit just before dawn.
• A thunderous crack echoed through the mountain, shaking stone from the ceilings. I tumbled from bed as the den erupted in shouts, footsteps, and snarls.
• Rogues.
• Not lone ones. A pack.
• I ran barefoot into the corridor, heart pounding. Nightfang warriors rushed past, armored and bloodied. The scent of fire and ash filled the tunnels.
• Then I saw Niko, face cut, arm cradled, limping toward me.
• “They breached the northern wall,” he gasped. “Somehow they got past the wards. This wasn’t random.”
• My blood turned to ice.
• It was planned.
• Targeted.
• For Ronan? For me?
• “Mira,” I whispered. “We need to shift.”
• We’re not strong enough.
• Then we fight as we are.
• I grabbed a fallen dagger from the floor and ran.
• I didn’t make it far.
• As I turned a corner, a rogue launched from the shadows—eyes wild, claws flashing.
• I barely raised the blade before a massive black wolf slammed into the rogue mid-air, pinning him to the stone.
• Ronan.
• He shifted mid-leap, landing hard and breaking the rogue’s neck with a clean, brutal snap.
• Blood sprayed. Ronan rose, chest heaving, eyes glowing like wildfire.
• He turned to me, breathless. “Are you hurt?”
• I shook my head, trembling. “Why are they here?”
• “I don’t know.”
• But in his voice—I heard fear.
• Real fear.
• He stepped closer, grabbing my shoulders. “Lupita. Listen to me. If they’re after you, it means someone knows.”
• “Knows what?”
• “That you’re Moonborn.”
• Before I could speak, Eira stormed into the corridor, her armor bloodstained. “Alpha! We’ve secured the east wing. But they left something behind.”
• She handed him a scroll, sealed in wax.
• Ronan broke it open and read silently.
• His eyes darkened.
• Then he looked up at me.
• “They know your name.”
• My stomach dropped. “Who?”
• He handed me the scroll.
• There, in elegant, unfamiliar handwriting, was a single sentence:
• Return the girl with fire in her veins… or burn with her.
• The rogues weren’t hunting Nightfang lands.
• They were hunting me.