The war was over.
For the first time in what felt like an eternity, the lands were quiet. No screams. No fire. No blood staining the earth. Only the soft glow of the rising moon and the steady breath of a world finally at peace.
Across the territories, wolves gathered.
From distant mountains, deep forests, and hidden valleys, packs arrived—some proud, some humbled, all united by one truth:
The Moon Queen had risen.
Aria stood at the center of it all.
No longer chained. No longer hunted. No longer uncertain.
She stood as the ruler of all packs—her silver aura calm now, no longer wild and unstable, but steady… controlled… powerful.
The Moon Goddess blessing glowed softly within her, no longer a raging storm, but a quiet, eternal flame.
One by one, the Alphas bowed.
Not out of fear.
