SWNOVELXO Chapter 7: CHAPTER SEVEN.
The Mark Of The Betrayer.
---
Rain fell.
Hard. Cold. Unforgiving.
Like the moon itself was weeping.
Aria stood in the middle of camp, watching the sky drown everything — the ashes of the fallen, the footprints of war, the blood still soaking the training ring.
She didn't flinch.
Didn't move.
But something inside her was unraveling.
Cain watched from afar, arms crossed, heart caged. He hadn't touched her since that night — not out of regret, but fear.
Fear that if he touched her again, he wouldn't be able to let go.
---
In the shadows behind them… someone watched.
Lukas.
A rogue. Mid-rank. Quiet. Forgettable.
The perfect spy.
He ducked behind tents, slipped into the woods, and pulled a tiny black crystal from his pocket.
A gift from Seraphina.
He whispered into it.
"The girl lives. The pack is weak. I can open the gates from inside."
The crystal pulsed once — like a heartbeat — then turned to ash.
The deal was sealed.
---
Aria paced the war tent, fingers stained with charcoal from sketching attack plans.
"Nightbane won't wait long," she said. "They'll strike again — and next time, harder."
Cain nodded. "Then we hit first."
"But how? Their defenses—"
"Will fall," he interrupted, "if we burn the northern border."
She looked up sharply.
"That's suicide."
He smirked. "Only if you're alone."
She didn't answer.
Because she knew what he meant.
He planned to go alone.
---
That night, Cain disappeared.
Again.
Aria woke to the scent of smoke — not from firewood, but from something darker.
Magic.
She sprinted toward the west ridge — where the sentries stood.
But they were gone.
Dead.
Throats slashed.
No alarm raised.
No sound.
They never saw it coming.
---
She reached the edge of the camp and stopped cold.
Nightbane warriors — dozens of them — pouring through the trees.
Too organized.
Too fast.
Someone had opened the gates.
Betrayal.
Her heart thundered.
She turned — and saw Lukas standing near the war tent, eyes wide, face pale.
Too pale.
Too calm.
She stormed toward him.
"Where were you?" she growled.
He didn't answer.
Instead — he smiled.
And that's all she needed.
---
Her claws came out mid-sentence.
Lukas screamed as Aria tackled him into the mud.
She didn't speak.
Didn't ask why.
She knew why.
She tore into him like a storm — claws ripping flesh, fangs sinking into his throat. His body jerked, twisted, thrashed.
He begged.
She didn't stop.
Not until his body was unrecognizable.
Not until the rain washed his blood away.
---
Cain found her kneeling beside Lukas's corpse.
"You knew," she whispered, shaking.
He nodded. "I saw him vanish yesterday. I wasn't sure."
"You should've told me."
"You had bigger things to carry."
She looked up at him.
Eyes wet.
"Not you. Not you too."
He knelt beside her.
Took her face in his hands.
"I'm not leaving you…"
He hesitated.
"...not yet."
And then the howls came.
---
Nightbane was inside the camp now.
Fire burned tents.
Rogues screamed.
And Cain… drew both swords.
He turned to her — kissed her like it was the last breath in his lungs — and whispered:
"Protect what we built. And if I fall… don't look back."
She grabbed his wrist.
"Cain—"
But he was already gone.
---
Cain moved like lightning wrapped in rage.
Two blades, one purpose — protect her.
Rogues fell behind him, rallying at his command, but the Nightbane wolves were everywhere. Trained. Vicious. Hungry for revenge.
But they hadn't expected him.
Cain was no ordinary rogue.
He was death wrapped in muscle and moonlight.
He fought three at once, then five — each one faster, deadlier — but he didn't fall.
Not yet.
Aria watched from the ridge.
Screaming. Shaking.
Her heart telling her to run to him — her wolf telling her no.
If she did, the prophecy would be fulfilled too soon.
She couldn't lose him.
Not now.
---
But Cain…
Cain was already bleeding.
A gash down his side.
A broken rib.
Blood in his mouth.
He knew.
This was the end.
And so — he smiled.
Because if death came, it would find him fighting for her.
He killed the last soldier with a blade through the heart.
Then turned—
And took the arrow meant for Aria.
---
It came out of nowhere — fast, glowing, silver-tipped.
Shot by a Nightbane commander, hidden in the trees.
Straight for Aria.
Cain leapt between.
Time slowed.
The arrow pierced his back — deep — straight through his chest.
He didn't cry out.
Didn't fall.
He just turned… and looked at her.
One final time.
Her name fell from his lips.
"Aria…"
---
She was beside him in seconds.
Catching him as he collapsed.
His blood soaked her cloak. Her hands. Her soul.
"No," she whispered. "Not you. Not you."
He tried to speak — coughed instead. Blood on his lips.
She held his face.
Begged.
"Stay with me. Please. I'm not ready. I'm not ready to lead. I'm not ready to lose you."
Cain smiled, even through the pain.
"You already are, Aria…"
His hand brushed her cheek.
"You were… always more."
And then — his body went still.
---
Aria didn't scream.
She roared.
The kind of sound that split the skies, cracked bones, sent birds fleeing into the clouds.
Her wolf shattered its chains.
And in that moment — the prophecy came to life.
The Chosen Luna was born.
---
Her eyes blazed silver.
Her skin pulsed with moonlight.
She stood, drenched in blood, power radiating from her like wildfire.
Rogues dropped to their knees. Even Nightbane wolves staggered back.
She raised her arms.
And the moon — the very moon — answered her.
A beam of light shot down, crashing into the battlefield, exploding in divine rage.
And then—
Silence.
Ashes.
And Aria — glowing, shaking, rising.
---
She whispered to Cain's body:
"Your death will never be in vain."
And then she turned to the Nightbane warriors still standing.
"No more mercy."