Then silence.
The mist fades. I breathe again, but now I’m lighter and whole.
Amara lowers her gaze. “The Severance is complete.”
“She did it,” someone whispers. “She survived.”
I rise. “I am Freya Vale. No longer bound to any man. My bond is to the Moon alone.”
Kade’s voice breaks. “What happens to me?”
I meet his eyes one last time. “You live. I let you keep Emris.”
He bows his head. “You’ve taken everything.”
“No,” I say softly. “I left you with your life. You will serve Silvercrest as an ordinary soldier until your final breath.”
Amara raises her staff, signalling the end of the rite. “Let it be known—the Moon has judged. The Severance stands. The High Council cannot overrule a High Luna’s claim.”
Tamsin and Jax appear in front of me as the circle dissolves, bowing. “High Luna.” Brin joins them, grinning wholeheartedly.
“Without all of you, none of this would be possible,” I say, my voice finally breaking with emotion.
“We serve you,” Brin says. “You lead Silvercrest now.”
“Would it be possible without me?” Rowan’s playful voice comes from behind.
I turn quickly, facing him, failing to keep the smile from my face as my children rush from him to me. “Mama, you’re glowing,” Finn says.
Ivy laughs. “Like the stars.”
Rowan steps forward. “You did it,” he whispers.
I nod at him slowly, feeling my heart swell with satisfaction and happiness.
The moon is fading into the pale sky, her last light brushing my skin. A faint warmth burns into my arm as the patterned mark starts to appear—tiny crescents along sapphire ribbons over my silver veins.
Gasps rise again as wolves kneel instinctively, recognizing the sign.
“The Moon Goddess has branded her,” Elder Maelin murmurs. “High Luna.”
I breathe, my voice carrying softly across the stillness. “The Moon’s verdict is final. She has brought justice.”
And with that, I turn away from Kade and the ashes of a broken marriage, powerful and whole on my own, the dawn rising behind me.
EPILOGUE
A year and half later.
Dawn spills like honey across Silvercrest.
The air is fresh with smells of pine and new rain, and the walls no longer carry whispers of treachery or glamours. Banners of black and silver hang together on the ramparts, the emblems of Nightfell and Silvercrest entwined in one sigil. Wolves move through the courtyard below—some training, others laughing, going on about their daily business.
From the balcony of the Queen’s Wing, Freya watches them. Her attention shifts momentarily when a pair of sparrows fly and perch on the railing, chirping. Noctra doesn’t let them rest. He appears suddenly, black wings wide open and scares them away.
“Such a tease,” she taunts the raven, laughing softly.
“Training started before sunrise,” Jax says, stepping beside her. His cloak catches the wind, silver thread flashing once before settling.
