CHAPTER 59: LIORA FALLS.

The bush swallowed Bella whole.

Every step she took past the treeline, the air shifted. The forest was alive. Whispering. Watching. The branches overhead groaned, leaning closer as the forest itself recognised a new presence.

The prefects who had escorted her stopped where the grass ended. None of them dared cross over. They muttered their last biting remarks, and turned back toward Whitethorn’s courtyard.

Bella did not look back.

Her boots crunched over the roots and damp leaves, but her body felt... different. The further she went in, the stronger the thrum inside her chest grew. Her heartbeat no longer sounded like a fragile human rhythm. It was heavier. Wilder. It echoed in her ears like a drum.

By the time she reached the thick, tall, wide trees, Bella realized she wasn’t scared.

Not the way she should be. Not the way everyone had expected her to be.

The whispers of students, Maren’s venomous taunt, the laughter, all of it replayed in her mind. But instead of breaking her apart, it strengthened her resolve.

She stopped walking and tilted her head.

Deep in her core, she could hear it, her wolf. Not fully awake, but pacing in the dark corners of her soul. Restless. Hungry.

Bella exhaled shakily, pressing her palm against her chest. "You’re real," she whispered. "You’ve always been real."

The ground beneath her feet trembled faintly, as though the forest itself approved.

—

The Shadowed Realm rippled, pulling Carla down before she could even resist. One moment, her body lay limp in the hospital bed; the next, her spirit was ripped into the realm.

She staggered, clutching her chest as the familiar weight pressed in, pressing down heavily on her ribs.

And then she heard it, Maren’s laughter. Low. Cruel. It slithered around her.

From the fog, Maren emerged, her wolf-shadow curling at her feet, her teeth bared in a grin that matched its mistress.

"Ahhh, there you are," Maren purred, her voice dripping with mock sympathy. "Dragged from your fragile little body again. But I thought you should see... I thought you deserved to know."

Carla straightened upright, facing Maren with defiance. Although her knees trembled, she didn’t let it show.

"What have you done?"

Maren’s smirk widened, satisfaction gleaming in her amber eyes. "Your daughter. Your precious little Bella. She has been cast out. Exiled. Banished into the Forest."

Carla’s throat closed. The mist seemed to lurch around her, choking. "What—"

"Yes." Maren’s wolf circled, its burning eyes never leaving Carla’s face. "They marched her to the edge like cattle to slaughter. And do you know what, Liora? She shamelessly walked before the eyes of the whole school."

Maren’s tone dipped. "Though I must admit, she was calm. Defiant. Weak Bella claiming strength." She threw her head back in mockery laughter.

Carla’s chest heaved, her hands balling into fists.

Maren leaned close, her breath ice against Carla’s cheek. "But she is mine now. In my forest. In my reach. Every shadow, every fang, every claw there belongs to me. And I promise you, she will not last long."

Carla’s lips pressed tight, trembling. Fear burned in her gut, but again, she didn’t let it show.

"You think exile will break her," Carla rasped, forcing her voice steady. "But all you’ve done, Maren, is put her where she was always meant to be."

Maren’s smile sharpened. "That’s what you think? Pathetic," she spat. "She is untrained. Mortal. And might I remind you, her wolf is still asleep. Still locked in from the curse. In other words...She has no wolf."

Maren cackled violently.

Carla’s eyes glowed faint silver. "Neither did I, once. But my blood flows in her veins."

The mist suddenly shuddered. The ancestors, their voices murmured faintly, echoing to Carla’s declaration.

"Child of the Moonblood... trust the forest. It will awaken what sleeps."

Carla’s heart steadied. Her lips curved into the faintest smile.

Maren snarled, sensing the shift. "What do you hear? What have they told you?"

Carla met her gaze, fire returning to her eyes. "Enough to know that you should be afraid. You want to gloat about the exile? Then hear this, your banishment is not her end. It is her beginning."

She stepped forward through the mist, the silver glow in her eyes brightening. "Bella will walk out of that forest, Maren. Not broken. But as what she was always meant to be."

Maren’s wolf bared its teeth, but it didn’t lunge. The mist hissed, even the Shadowed Realm recognized the truth threading through Carla’s words.

Carla leaned closer, "You think you’ve trapped her. But you’ve only unleashed her. Face me now, Maren. Let’s end this once and for all!"

Maren’s wolf stretched, its growl rumbling deep enough to shake the ground. She levitated off the ground, amber eyes glowing, her smirk dripping venom.

"You’re bold, Liora," she sneered. "But boldness without power is just desperation. Let me remind you—"

Her wolf lunged.

Carla twisted sideways, the beast’s paw snapping just inches from her throat. Pain laced through her chest from the sudden motion, her human lungs screaming, but she planted her feet.

"Not boldness," she rasped. "Conviction."

Her fist cracked against the wolf’s flank. The impact boomed through the Realm, scattering mist in violent waves. Maren staggered one step, shock flickering across her face before morphing back into scorn.

"You think your tiny scraps of moonlight will save you?" Maren hissed.

Her wolf surged again, doubling in size, claws raking across Carla’s chest. The force hurled her backward into the ground, the taste of iron filling her mouth.

Carla coughed blood but forced herself to rise. Her knees trembled, but the whispers returned—

"Rise, daughter. We are with you."

Carla exhaled sharply, and the mist itself bent with her breath.

Maren’s smile faltered.

Then Carla roared.

A low, guttural, ancient wolf’s cry. Silver fire exploded from her chest, morphing into the form of a white furred wolf, translucent yet burning with ancestral power. Its eyes mirrored hers, and it stood shoulder to shoulder with her.

Maren’s wolf snarled in return, its body rippling with unnatural fluidity. "So the Moonblood corpse still has teeth," she sneered, though her tone carried an edge now. "Let’s break them."

They collided.

Silver and shadow crashed, fang to fang, claw to claw. The air split with their strikes, shockwaves rippling through the Shadowed Realm.

Carla’s wolf bit deep into Maren’s beast, it screamed but retaliated, its claws slashing across Carla’s shoulder tearing her flesh, but light stitched the wound even as blood flowed.

Carla’s heart pounded harder, her body trembling under the strain. But she pushed, every blow carrying the weight of her ancestors.

"You will never touch my child!" she roared, her wolf slamming into Maren’s beast with bone rattling force.

Maren’s wolf shrieked in pain. She staggered, her face twisted in rage and unease. "This isn’t possible," she spat. "You’re human. You should be nothing."

Carla advanced, her wolf burning brighter. Her voice rang with ancient resonance:

"I am Liora. Moonblood. Mother. And I will not fall to you."

For a moment, the mist recoiled completely, thinning to reveal dark, endless skies above them.

Maren herself faltered, clutching her chest. She stared at Carla, at the wolf burning beside her, her mocking smile slipped.

Her voice came low, furious, trembling at the edges. "You will burn out. That body of yours is rotting already. And when it does... Bella will have no shield."

She dissolved into smoke before Carla could strike again, her laughter echoing hollowly.

Carla dropped to one knee, her breath ragged, her wolf fading into a shimmer of silver light. Pain wracked her chest, but her eyes still glowed.

She forced herself upright, blood running down her arm, but her eyes were molten steel. "She will never be yours, Maren," Carla whispered, her voice ringing with ancestral resonance. "Bella is Moonblood. She is mine."

Then the mist stilled.

Suddenly, Maren’s laughter slithered back through the darkness.

Carla spun.

But it was too late.

From the shadows, Maren re-emerged, her smile sharpened crueler, darker. In her hand gleamed a blade, a dagger forged of dark curses. The very air recoiled from it, the power of a million centuries coiled inside its jagged shape.

"Did you think it would end here, Liora?" Maren hissed, eyes burning like twin embers. "That I would slink away so easily?"

Before Carla could react, before her wolf could shield her, the dagger plunged into her back.

"NOOO..."

The scream tore from Carla’s throat, raw and guttural, echoing through the Realm like a soul being ripped in half. Her wolf howled in agony, its white body falling.

She collapsed forward, her knees slamming into the black earth. The silver glow bled from her eyes, dimming.

"No..." she gasped, her fingers clawing weakly at the ground, reaching for a strength that wouldn’t answer. "No—Bella—"

The mist swallowed her cry, dragging her down. Her wolf broken, its head lowered in a last defiant snarl before it, too, dissolved into nothing.

Maren leaned close, twisting the dagger deeper, her voice a venomous whisper against Carla’s ear:

"Your line ends here. And your daughter will beg me for mercy."