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Silence reigned in the sacred hollow of the Silver Cradle.

Moonlight trickled down through the strange, silver trees, bathing the clearing in a ghostly glow. The air shimmered with unseen magic, thick and trembling.

Bavanda lay still. Her chest rose shallowly, one could barely notice it.

Loco was only feet away, crumpled and bleeding. A jagged wound split across his side, crimson soaking into the pale earth beneath him. His face was pale, eyes closed.

The trees didn’t move. The winds didn’t stir. It was as if the world had stopped for them… but not in a good way.

At that point, something stirred in the atmosphere, and a vision unfurled.

Bavanda found herself standing, though she hadn’t moved. Her breath was caught in her throat. She looked down and saw Loco’s form again, lying limp beside her. She reached for him, sobbing, but her hand went through him.

Like mist.

“What is this…?” she whispered.

A response didn't come, instead, she heard her name. “Bavanda.” The voice was gentle, yet, it sent chills down her spine.

The clearing shifted, the trees parting on their own, and the silver cradle appeared ahead, carved from glowing stone, pulsing like a heartbeat.

She felt her feet move, drawn forward by something deeper than instinct.

She entered the cradle, her heart pounding in her chest.

Inside, the space was wide, circular. And standing at the center was a woman made of light, robed in soft flowing silver, hair like braided moonlight, eyes ancient and kind.

The Moon Goddess.

Bavanda dropped to her knees without thinking. Her heart cracked wide open.

“Moon Goddess…” she breathed, breaking into tears. “I failed. I let them all down. Loco… he’s dying. My pack… my parents…”

The Moon Goddess stepped forward. Her voice was both whisper and thunder. “You have been broken and remade, Bavanda. You have fallen into shadow, and risen into light. But still… your journey is not yet done.”

Bavanda trembled. “I don’t know how to fix this,” she whispered. “I’m so tired.”

The goddess knelt before her, hand resting gently over Bavanda’s chest. “The answer you seek… lies inside you.”

A sudden warmth surged through Bavanda—a light that spilled from her heart outward, wrapping around her limbs, her scars, her soul. She gasped, glowing brighter by the second.

Like the suddenness of lightening, she woke up.

Her body jerked upright with a gasp. Air filled her lungs in a rush. She was at the edge of the Silver Cradle again. Moonlight had broken through the clouds.

“Loco,” she choked out, scrambling to him. He was still bleeding, motionless, his chest faintly rising.

“No, no…don’t leave me…please…”

She cradled his head in her lap, tears falling freely. A tear struck his wound, and her palm began to glow.

Her breath caught.

The glow spread, instinctive. Without thinking twice, her fingers pressed to his side, and where her hand touched, the torn skin knit together like healing silk. The blood ceased, and the wound vanished.

Her heart was thumping like an out-of-control jackhammer. She looked at her palm, and back at Loco. Yet, he didn't stir.

“No…” she sobbed. “Loco, please wake up. Please, I can't do this without you."

She buried her in his chest, bloodied and unmoving. The tears fell without stop, however, the next minute, his chest rose in the slightest motion she almost didn't notice it. But her head jerked up.

“Loco…”

His eyes flew open, glassy and disoriented. “Bavanda…?”

Relief shattered through her. She threw herself on him, kissing his forehead, his cheeks, his lips, whispering, “You came back. You came back to me…”

He winced, barely able to hold her, but he smiled weakly. “You… healed me?”

She nodded. “I don’t know how. I just… had to.”

He looked into her eyes. “You’re glowing, Bavanda.”

“I saw her,” she said. “I saw the Moon Goddess. She told me it’s not over. I'll explain it on the way but we have to go back. We have to save them.”

Loco struggled upright, still weak but conscious. “I’m with you. Let’s go.”

Together, hand in hand, they walked to the heart of the Silver Cradle.

There, just beyond the sacred stones, a portal bloomed from thin air—silver and pulsing with magic, spiraling in a silent whirlwind.

Bavanda squeezed his hand. They shared one glance of mutual agreement, then stepped in.

The portal transported them to their pack grounds in what felt like a split of a second. It happened so fast, but they barely had anytime to recover.

The pack felt wrong. Everything was too quiet.

They emerged at the edge of the territory, but the lands were empty. There were no patrols, no chatter, only the unsettling stillness of silence.

Bavanda’s stomach turned.

“They’re not here,” Loco muttered.

Bavanda said nothing. They sprinted toward the pack house, heart hammering, weaving through abandoned homes and cracked paths. The deeper they ran, the stronger the scent of fear and blood grew.

Their next stop was the council room.

The doors were sealed shut with shadowy vines. Bavanda snarled.

“They have to be in here." She mumbled.

“How do we get in?" He said, his eyes scanning around for a possible entry.

Bavanda gritted her teeth. She took a deep breath, then summoned her new power, and blasted them open.

The sight inside stole the air from her lungs.

A mirror of herself stood with a dagger raised—poised above Avynna, who knelt weakly on the floor. Baron lay at the side, struggling against invisible bindings. Warriors lay pinned, crushed by dark forces. The clone’s eyes glowed with malice, her body vibrating with stolen power.

And she was about to strike.

“STOP!” Bavanda screamed.

Her hand flew forward on instinct, and a surge of silver fire exploded from her palm.

It slammed into the clone, hurling her back. The dagger flew from her hand. She smashed into the courtroom wall with a guttural snarl, stone cracking around her.

Everyone froze.

Avynna gasped. Baron’s head turned, barely able to focus. The clone twitched on the ground, stunned, bleeding dark tendrils of energy.

Bavanda stepped fully into the room, her body glowing softly, her hair flowing with residual power, her voice ringing like a vow.

“It’s over now. You will not hurt my family again.”

In the now-silent room, the real Bavanda stood at the entrance, her white hair haloed with ethereal silver, her bare feet crackling faintly on the stone. She glowed—not with power born of rage, but with something ancient and holy, the light of the Moon Goddess herself.

“I’m home,” she said softly. Her voice wasn’t loud, but it carried what it took.

Every head turned. The court gasped. Time rushed forward again.

“Two of them…” someone muttered.

“Which one is…?”

“Bavanda?” Avynna’s voice trembled.

Baron stood in stunned silence, his gaze flicking between the girls. Steve dropped his sword halfway to a defensive stance. Rayna and Gina moved protectively in front of Avynna, their eyes narrowed in suspicion.

Bavanda stepped forward, eyes locked on her mother. “It’s me, Mama.”

The clone stood up slowly, brushing dust from her pale dress. Her voice was too steady, too polished. “She’s the imposter. A desperate conjuring of the enemy’s last hope.” She turned to Baron. “Father, she’s come to destroy us from within.”

Baron’s lips parted. “You just tried to kill your mother,” he said hoarsely.

“She’s not your daughter,” the clone hissed. “She’s made of shadow and lies!”

Bavanda stepped closer, her aura pressing gently into the space, brushing against hearts, stirring old memories. “Papa,” she said, voice cracking, “you used to tell me stories about wolves who lost their way, and how it was never too late to find the moon again. You told me... even darkness bends before love.”

Baron’s breath caught. Rayna’s hand dropped from her blade.

“Steve,” Bavanda said, turning to him, “you said once that I reminded you of your little sister when she passed... You gave me that wooden knife to train with, remember? I still have it. I never let go.”

Steve’s fingers trembled. “Only I ever knew that...” he whispered.

Gina looked between her and the clone. “Dear Moon…”

The false Bavanda stiffened, her form flickering faintly. She growled low under her breath, stepping back a pace.

Loco's eyes was fixed on her, unwavering. She turned to him for the briefest of minute, and their eyes met.

“Selene…” Loco’s voice cut through the chaos, barely audible, raw and aching. He stared at the clone. “It’s you, isn’t it?”

The clone’s breath hitched. Her face spasmed, a twitch in the jaw, the corner of her mouth folding unnaturally. “I’m Bavanda,” she snapped. “You said you loved me…”

“No,” he said. “I said I wished I could forget. You were there. You watched me break.”

Bavanda's lips parted in shock. “You're Selene?"

The clone staggered back as though struck. Her form flickered again, and when she spoke, her voice glitched, layered with a second, deeper tone, unnatural and ancient. “No… I am what you failed to be!”

Her skin rippled. Her eyes turned jet black for a second, then flickered with blue, gold, and violet.

Loco took a step forward, his expression distraught. “Selene, what happened to you?”

She shot him a glare, the cruelest of them all. "You happened to me.”