The moon rose red that night. And its color drew everyone’s attention immediately. Crimson moons were never a good sign in Lycanthria. It meant blood, danger, or dark magic stirring somewhere in the realm.

By the time the bell in the watchtower sounded, the palace was awake. Guards rushed through the city toward the southern gate, where a pair of patrol wolves had gone missing during their shift. Their howls had been cut off mid-transformation, the sound echoing briefly before silence swallowed it whole.

When the search party reached the border gate, what they found froze every man in place. Four bodies lay sprawled across the earth, half-shifted between wolf and human. The claws were outstretched as if they had tried to fight something before dying. The flesh around their necks was torn, and their eyes were open, bloodshot, glassy, and lifeless.

One of the guards knelt beside the corpses. "They were trying to shift. Something stopped them halfway." He said quietly.

The captain examined the wounds. The pattern wasn’t clean. These weren’t regular wolf attacks. He looked toward the trees and saw deep and deliberate claw marks on the bark. A symbol had been burned into one, a crescent moon pierced by a claw.

He knew what it meant. The Wanderers had returned.

By morning, the palace was in uproar. Servants whispered in corridors, guards tightened security, and soldiers lined the gates. The council was called into session before sunrise.

The council chamber was tense. The heavy wooden doors were closed, and everyone sat in uneasy silence as King Alaric entered with his Beta, Trovald, and Aveloria following behind.

Eirene was already seated beside her allies, some of the royal advisers, some of whom had always leaned toward her influence. When the King took his seat, he motioned for the discussion to begin.

A court official stood first and delivered the report. "At approximately midnight, four patrol wolves were found dead near the southern border," he said. "They were in mid-transformation. The captain of the guard identified a sigil on the trees consistent with the markings of the Wanderers."

Murmurs filled the chamber.

"The Wanderers?" one councilor said, disbelief in his tone.

"How dare they mark our lands?!"

"They were supposed to be extinct after the last purge."

"They never went extinct," Trovald said calmly. "They only went quiet."

Eirene leaned forward, her tone sharp. "Quiet until now. Tell me, Your Majesty, doesn’t it seem odd that this happens just after your daughter’s unusual bonds were announced?"

Aveloria’s jaw tightened, but she said nothing yet.

Eirene continued, voice sweet but edged with malice. "Perhaps it is not a coincidence. The moon turns crimson, our patrols are slaughtered, and the Heiress binds herself to four males at once. Maybe the goddess herself is displeased."

"The moon chose those bonds." Another elder replied to her.

"What if the high priestess saw wrong?"

A few council members murmured in agreement. Others shifted uncomfortably.

"That’s enough," Alaric said sternly, his eyes narrowing.

But Eirene wasn’t finished. "With respect, my King, we cannot ignore signs of divine punishment. These events—"

Aveloria stood abruptly. "This isn’t divine wrath," she said, her voice steady but sharp. "This is a hunt. The Wanderers are sending a message."

The room went quiet. Everyone turned toward her.

"You think they’re targeting you?" one adviser asked.

"I think they’re testing us," she replied. "They want to see how strong Lycanthria still is. They’ve done this before, harassing patrols, leaving marks near our borders, spreading fear before attacking in full. They’re not ghosts. They’re organized."

Eirene gave a faint, mocking smile. "And how would you know that, dear? Unless, of course, you’ve been in contact with them?"

Aveloria met her gaze without flinching. "Because I study what threatens my people, not use it to spread fear."

Trovald cleared his throat, breaking the tension. "Your Majesty, I can lead an investigation," he said. "If they’re marking our territory, I can track their movements."

Alaric looked at him. "You just returned from a difficult mission. You need to rest, Trovald." He said.

"With respect, your majesty, this isn’t something we can delay," Trovald insisted.

The King shook his head. "You’ve earned your rest. I’ll assign another."

Immediately, the council began murmuring again.

"If the Beta can’t go, who will lead it?"

"The borders are dangerous. Sending a weak patrol could provoke them."

"We need someone strong and capable."

"Perhaps the Heiress should go," Eirene said suddenly.

The room fell silent.

Alaric turned toward her. "That’s out of the question."

Eirene smiled faintly. "She claims it isn’t divine punishment, so let her prove it. Let her see the truth for herself."

"Enough!" The King said sharply.

But one of the council members spoke up. "With all due respect, if the Heiress cannot handle such a mission, how will she lead the kingdom one day?"

Another agreed. "Her bonds have already caused instability. Perhaps she isn’t ready if she can’t defend our borders."

The voices grew louder, overlapping, until the chamber became a chorus of arguments. Aveloria stood silently for a moment, watching them, noticing how easily her authority was questioned and how her stepmother’s words fueled the chaos.

Then she spoke, her voice cutting through the noise. "If my loyalty is in doubt, I’ll lead the investigation myself."

The chamber went silent again.

Alaric frowned deeply. "Aveloria—"

"I’m not asking for permission," she said calmly. "I’m taking responsibility. I will not sit behind walls while our people die. If the council doubts my ability to rule, then let me prove it."

Trovald gave a slight nod of approval. "She’s right," he said. "She knows the land and the tactics of the Wanderers. She won’t go unguarded."

Galen, who had been silent until now, spoke up. "If she goes, I go with her."

The King’s gaze moved between them. He could see the determination in his daughter’s eyes and the loyalty in Galen’s expression.

After a long pause, he said, "Very well. You’ll both go. But you’ll move carefully and report every detail back to me."

"Yes, Father," Aveloria said.

The King stood, signaling the end of the meeting. "This session is adjourned. We’ll reconvene when we have findings."