NOVEL WEB Chapter 8: CHAPTER EIGHT.
The Luna Of Ashes.
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The battlefield was quiet now.
Smoke curled into the sky.
Bodies littered the ground — both enemy and rogue — but none dared move near the center.
Where she stood.
Aria.
No longer just a rogue.
No longer the forgotten one.
She was something else now.
Something holy.
Something vengeful.
And the moon, high above, pulsed silver in agreement.
---
She dropped to her knees beside Cain's lifeless body.
Ran her fingers through his blood-matted hair.
Pressed her forehead to his chest, praying for a heartbeat that wouldn't return.
But instead of sobs… came silence.
Deadly. Hollow.
A stillness that tasted like wrath.
Aria stood again, eyes glowing like twin stars.
Her voice was soft.
"Bring me every Nightbane still breathing."
---
One by one, they dragged them in.
Wounded. Shaking. Some whimpering for mercy.
She gave none.
No trial.
No plea.
Just a quiet order to the rogues:
"Hold them."
---
The first was a scout.
Barely seventeen.
He spat at her feet.
Aria stared at him.
Then shifted.
Fully.
Her wolf was massive — dark silver with glowing scars lining her spine. Fangs like daggers. Eyes like judgment itself.
And she bit his throat out.
Blood sprayed across the snow.
She shifted back without flinching.
"Next."
---
They brought her a female warrior next.
Older. Hardened.
"I won't beg," the woman said.
Aria nodded. "You won't get the chance."
She summoned a blade.
The same one Cain forged her months ago.
She slit the woman's throat in a single motion.
Cold. Clean.
Rogues stepped back.
Even they weren't ready for this version of her.
---
The third begged.
He sobbed. Crawled. Called her Luna.
She paused — for only a second.
Then whispered:
"You were there when they burned my mother alive."
His eyes widened in horror.
And she fed him to her wolf.
---
Hours passed.
Night fell again.
Still, Aria didn't stop.
Revenge became her gospel.
Cain's blood still stained her chest.
She didn't wash it off.
She wore it like armor.
---
Back in Nightbane, Seraphina woke screaming.
A dream — no, a vision.
Aria standing on a hill of her wolves, a crown of blood on her head, silver fire behind her eyes.
"She's coming," Seraphina whispered, voice shaking.
"She's already begun," Magnus said, stepping into the room.
He dropped a scroll on the table.
It bore the sigil of their northern camp — slashed with blood.
Every wolf stationed there?
Dead.
---
But Aria wasn't done.
She led the rogues into the woods that night, silent as ghosts.
They found a Nightbane outpost — guarded by twelve elite warriors.
They killed them all in less than five minutes.
No survivors.
No screams.
Only a message, burned into the ground:
"The Moon Remembers."
---
Aria stood at the cliff's edge.
Below her, the Nightbane supply truck rumbled through the valley — escorted by armored warriors from the neighboring Stonefang Pack.
They thought they were safe.
They were wrong.
"Take them all," Aria whispered.
Rogues descended from the trees like shadows.
No howls. No warnings.
Just death.
The first arrow struck the driver in the throat.
The second hit the gas tank.
The truck exploded in a pillar of fire, lighting up the night like a second sun.
The screams didn't last long.
---
Aria watched it burn.
The truck.
The supplies.
The Stonefang warriors trying to crawl away.
She turned to her second-in-command — a rogue named Thorn.
"No survivors," she said. "Leave their corpses where Nightbane can find them."
"And the Stonefang Alpha?" he asked.
Aria smiled.
But it wasn't kind.
"We pay him a visit next."
---
Three nights later, the Stonefang Pack was gone.
Their borders torched.
Their elders executed.
Their Alpha — dragged through the mud and hanged from his own gate.
A message was carved into the stone at the entrance:
"Aid the cursed… and die cursed."
---
News spread.
Fast.
Packs pulled back their forces.
They refused Nightbane's calls for help.
Even their allies in the Frostfang Mountains declared neutrality.
Seraphina slammed her fist against the war table.
"She's turning them against us!"
Magnus, pale and sweating, whispered:
"She's becoming legend."
---
Back in the rogue camp, Aria was silent as she stared into Cain's old sword — now cleaned, sharpened, and resting by her bed.
She traced her thumb across the hilt.
"I'm not done," she whispered.
That night, she gave new orders.
"Any wolf in Nightbane that shifts… dies."
---
The next morning, four scouts were found dead outside Nightbane territory.
Their bodies twisted mid-shift.
Their pelts flayed.
Each one bore the same carved words into their chest:
"I warned you."
---
Aria wasn't done.
She sent messages to the neutral packs:
"Stay out. This is my war."
Those who listened?
Spared.
Those who didn't?
Erased from history.
---
By the end of the month, six packs had fallen.
Nightbane stood alone.
Weakened.
Afraid.
The once-mighty kingdom that cast Aria out now trembled at her name.
The Luna of Ashes.
The Silver Death.
The Forgotten Flame.
She had many names now.
But only one purpose.
Burn everything that took Cain from her.
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