NOVEL WEB Chapter 9: CHAPTER NINE.
Ghosts and Gods.
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It had been a month since the war began.
Aria sat alone on the ridge of Emberfall — the ruins of a pack destroyed decades ago.
Legends said it was cursed.
She didn't care.
She came for answers.
The moon was full overhead, glowing silver.
She closed her eyes.
And the wind began to whisper.
---
A voice… not her wolf's.
Older. Ancient.
"You are not the first… but you may be the last."
Aria's eyes flew open.
She stood.
Around her, ghostly images shimmered — wolves made of mist and memory.
One stepped forward.
A woman. A Luna. Her eyes just like Aria's.
"You carry the blood of the Moonborn," the ghost said.
"What's that?" Aria whispered.
"A forgotten line. A curse… and a gift."
---
The ghost raised a hand, touching Aria's chest.
Silver light pulsed through her body.
Pain.
Power.
And then… visions.
Of the first Luna ever chosen. Of Cain — standing beside her.
Of betrayal.
Of death.
And of a prophecy not yet fulfilled:
"The Chosen Luna will rise in blood, and fall in love.
But only through loss shall the world be remade."
---
Aria gasped.
The vision ended.
The ghosts vanished.
And in her palm, left behind by the ancient Luna — a silver ring, warm to the touch.
Cain's name was etched inside.
Her heart skipped.
"Fall in love. Lose him. Remake the world."
That's what this was always about.
---
She returned to camp, eyes darker than before.
Power humming in her veins.
She walked straight to the war table, slamming the ring down.
"They knew," she said.
"Who?" Thorn asked.
"The Moon. The gods. My parents. Nightbane. All of them."
"What now?" he asked.
Aria stared at the map.
"Now we make them pay for every lie."
Seraphina moved deeper into the Nightbane crypt — the air cold, thick with the scent of old magic and older lies.
At the far end was a sealed chamber. Only the High Council and past Lunas knew of its existence.
She whispered the incantation. The stone wall trembled, then opened.
Inside… a pedestal. A vial. Glowing silver.
She stared.
Not just at the light — but at the name etched into the marble below it:
Cain.
Her fingers trembled as she picked it up.
Silver blood.
Moonborn.
Chosen by the gods.
Cain had never been just a rogue.
He had been one of them.
A vessel of power.
A threat to her plans — even from the start.
And now… dead by her own orders.
Seraphina staggered back, horrified.
"He could've ruined everything…"
---
Magnus entered, his voice echoing off the stone.
"What is it?"
She quickly hid the vial in her cloak.
"Nothing," she lied. "Just bones."
---
The rogue camp was restless.
Word of the six fallen packs had spread far — but not all celebrated.
Some feared her.
Others whispered that Aria was becoming too powerful, too… divine.
But none dared speak it aloud.
Not when she stood among them.
Not when her eyes gleamed like molten silver in the dark.
---
She trained alone that morning — her strikes brutal, her focus sharp.
The sword Cain had given her sliced clean through thick trunks, each blow echoing like war drums.
The rogues watched from a distance.
She didn't speak.
Didn't need to.
---
Later, Thorn approached.
"Scouts report movement in Nightbane. They're reinforcing the inner city. Must be expecting retaliation."
Aria didn't blink.
"They're right to."
He hesitated.
"There's more… A lone wolf entered our territory. Says he has information."
She raised an eyebrow.
"Name?"
"He wouldn't give one. Just said… 'He knows Cain.'"
---
She froze.
"Bring him to the pit."
---
The wolf was tall, cloaked, older. Scarred.
When the guards pushed him into the arena, he stood calmly — like he was waiting to die.
Aria stepped in.
Her voice was ice.
"What do you know about Cain?"
The stranger smiled faintly.
"More than you want to hear."
---
He removed his hood.
Gasps echoed around the ring.
Aria's breath caught.
He looked like Cain.
Older. But the same jaw. The same eyes.
Her heart thundered.
"Who are you?" she asked.
"I'm his father," the man said.
---
Silence.
Until Aria whispered:
"He said he didn't know his family…"
"He didn't," the man replied. "Seraphina made sure of that."
Aria's fists clenched. "Liar."
But he stepped closer, lifting his sleeve — revealing the same sigil Cain once wore around his neck.
The Moonborn Crest.
"You know it's true."
---
He told her everything.
How Cain had been born under a blood moon.
How the elders feared his power.
How Seraphina made a deal with a god to strip Cain's memories, erase his past, and cast him out to live among rogues — powerless, forgotten.
Until he met her.
Until fate began to correct itself.
---
Aria stood frozen as the truth sank in.
"Why come now?"
"Because," the man said, "Cain's death wasn't just a loss. It was a key."
"To what?"
"To awakening you."
He reached into his cloak… and placed something into her hand.
---
A pendant.
Made of bone and silver.
Cain's scent still lingered on it.
The moment her fingers closed around it, her knees buckled.
Visions surged through her mind.
Flashes of fire. Wolves kneeling. Cain holding her in a moonlit field.
"You were born to burn… and rebuild."
---
She came to with blood dripping from her nose.
The stranger was gone.
No trace. No scent.
As if he'd never existed.
But the pendant?
Still in her palm.
---
That night, Aria stood on the cliffs overlooking Nightbane's inner city.
She wore Cain's pendant around her neck.
The sword strapped to her back hummed with silver fire.
And the wind howled a name.
"Luna."
Not cursed.
Not forgotten.
Not rogue.
Just…
Luna.
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