Beneath the Alpha's Moon
Chapter 302: Burn to Ashes

Chapter 302: Burn to Ashes

Eldur’s POV

The battlefield was silent, like the aftermath of a storm. Smoke still curled into the sky. The scent of blood and ash clung to the air like an unwelcome blanket.

I stood over the scorched earth where Margaret had vanished, chest heaving, fists clenched, silver eyes narrowed.

She was gone... but not dead.

Not yet.

The rage inside me pulsed like a second heartbeat. My hands trembled, not from exhaustion—but from restraint.

She was still out there. And Nova... Nova was still lost to me. Trapped. Hexed. Unconscious, pale, and still as death in that bed back at the castle.

And I had to get her back.

I turned to face the others. They were watching me—some cautiously, some with concern, some with unspoken understanding.

I met my father’s eyes first. Calm. Steady. As always.

But I knew that look. He knew what I was about to say. He was just waiting for me to say it.

"She’s not dead," I growled. "She’s still out there. And we need her ashes."

Auntie Teresa, stepped forward, her brows knit tightly. "Eldur—"

"No," I cut in sharply, louder this time. "She’s the key. Elizabeth said it. Only her ashes can undo the hex. Nova’s life—her soul—is still hanging by a thread."

My voice cracked at that last word. Damn it.

"She has to die," I continued, more quietly this time. "No second chances. No mercy. Not this time."

My father nodded slowly, his dark brows arching thoughtfully.

"I agree," he said. Always so maddeningly calm. "She won’t give up easily. She’s too wounded to run far, but too spiteful to simply crawl into the shadows and lick her wounds."

"She’s hiding like a rat," I muttered, heat flickering at my fingertips again. "Somewhere close. Watching us."

"Then we find her," Mai said, stepping beside me, her hair in a wild braid down her back, smeared with ash and blood. "And this time, we end it."

Liam stood beside her, limping slightly, but his expression was fierce. "I’m not going anywhere until that psycho vampire witch is ash."

Ollie, who was finishing his second granola bar, grunted and wiped his mouth. "Let’s get her. I haven’t punched anything in like—five minutes. Starting to get twitchy."

My father turned, addressing the whole group now. "Anyone too weak to continue—return to the castle. Regroup. Rest. This isn’t going to be easy. The rest of you..."

"No one’s leaving," Uncle Lucian said, stepping forward. His voice was strong, laced with ice. "We’re with you, Eldur. All of us."

I blinked. Once.

That... meant something. Coming from him.

Even if they didn’t say it, they all felt it—this wasn’t just about Margaret. This was about what she tried to take from me. From us.

From Nova.

"Then we hunt," I said, turning toward the trees. "And we don’t stop until she’s gone."

The search began like a whisper in the forest—silent, focused, relentless.

My father and I led the way, flanked by Uncle Lucian and Auntie Teresa. Mai and Liam fanned out to the east, while Ollie tracked behind us with his heightened senses, sniffing out magic residue.

We combed through the forest like bloodhounds. The sun burned its path across the sky, but I barely noticed. I didn’t feel hunger. I didn’t feel fatigue.

I felt her. Like a pulse in the air. She was near.

And I knew she was watching.

Every now and then, I caught it—the faintest flicker of movement in the trees, a shimmer of her magic clinging to the bark. She was leading us somewhere. Buying time. Hoping we’d give up.

Stupid witch.

By twilight, my clothes were torn, and my skin was slick with sweat and soot. Everyone looked like they’d walked out of hell.

But no one backed down.

Night fell, slow and cruel. The forest grew colder. Quieter.

Then Ollie stopped.

He lifted a hand. "There," he whispered. "She’s close."

I stepped beside him, eyes narrowing. The trees grew twisted here. Old. Shadowed by magic.

My magic pulsed in my veins, answering something unseen.

"She’s trying to cloak herself," I said, reaching out, letting my flames dance between my fingers. "But I can feel her."

"Then let’s smoke her out," Ollie grinned, already shifting into his half-wolf form.

"No," I murmured. "Let her think we’ve passed her. We’ll flank her from both sides. Dad and I from the front. The rest of you—surround her."

"Do not engage her alone," Dad warned, his voice firm as steel. He looked each of us in the eye, anchoring the moment. "She’s desperate. And that makes her more dangerous than ever."

"Exactly why I’m liking her less by the second," Mai muttered, already moving, sparks crackling at her fingertips.

And then we moved.

The forest shifted around us—thick with tension and damp with magic. Shadows slithered over roots as we pushed deeper, until we found her.

She waited in a clearing shrouded by cursed vines and a sickly fog that clung to the air like rot. The light barely touched her through the haze.

Margaret.

She stood at the center—barely upright. Her cloak was in tatters, one arm wrapped tight around her ribs like it was holding her together. Blood streaked her lip. Her eyes blazed.

"You just don’t know when to quit," she rasped, voice cracked, brittle with rage.

I stepped forward into the clearing, fire humming under my skin. "I learned from the absolute worst."

Mai materialized at my side, her eyes lit with a faint ethereal glow, palms humming with pale, lethal energy.

"You’re done, Margaret," she said, calm but commanding.

Margaret laughed—broken and feral, like something unhinged had crawled up her spine.

"You think this ends with me in the dirt?" she hissed. "You think this is over? I am vengeance. I am the spark that will set your whole world on fire. I am the beginning of a reckoning—"

I rolled my eyes. "God, do you ever shut up?"

I launched a fireball.

It tore through the fog with a hiss, catching her mid-rant. She caught it with a snarl—barely—but the force drove her back, feet skidding, breath knocked from her lungs.

And then—

Uncle Lucian lunged from the shadows, his blade a gleam of silver wrath. No words. Just vengeance in motion.

He swung.

She blocked with a screech of energy, her eyes wild as she spun, casting a curse that sent Mai and Ollie flying backward into the trees.

"ENOUGH!"

Her scream split the sky. The ground trembled beneath us like the earth itself flinched at her fury.

I saw her hand rise—fingers curled like claws, all her hate aimed straight at my father.

But he didn’t move. Not even a blink.

In a flash, he was in front of me—calm, steady. His hand swept out, and the curse slammed into his barrier, splintering like glass against stone.

He glanced at her, voice low. "My turn."

Then he moved.

A blur of precision and fury, gliding forward like a storm in human form. His blade sang through the air and bit into her arm. She shrieked, the sound raw and furious, pain ripping through her voice.

I circled wide, coming in from the side. In my mind, Aethros stirred.

"Let me in," he growled. "Let us end her."

I didn’t hesitate. "Yes. Let’s burn."

I charged, heat roaring through me—flames igniting at my heels, wings of fire unfurling from my back like a phoenix reborn.

I launched into the air and came down hard behind her, seizing her by the throat.

"Nova says hi," I spat, then slammed her into the ground with everything I had.

She gasped, teeth red with blood.

Aunt Teresa appeared like vengeance itself, her vine-whips lashing across Margaret’s back, tearing through her like fury made flesh. Lucian struck next—his blade carving deep into her thigh.

Still, she rose.

Bloody. Shaking. Smiling like a dying curse.

"You’ll regret this," she croaked. "You’ll all—"

But I didn’t let her finish.

I let go.

I poured everything into her—fire, grief, rage, loss. It erupted from my hands in a searing wave. A scream tore from my lungs, raw and primal.

Her scream joined mine—shrill, broken, terrified.

She didn’t burn like wood.

She burned like a star collapsing in on itself—hot, brilliant, final.

Until all that remained was ash.

I dropped to my knees, gasping, the world spinning around me. My fingers twitched with aftershock. Aethros purred in the quiet, satisfied.

Dad stepped up behind me, his hand gentle on my shoulder.

"It’s done," he said softly.

I didn’t respond. Couldn’t. I just stared at the ashes—what was left of someone who tried to break us.

Auntie Teresa knelt beside me, her expression gentle but tired. She held out a small enchanted urn, silver and glowing faintly.

"For Nova."

I reached out, my hands trembling, and began gathering the ashes. Slowly. Carefully. Reverently.

Ollie knelt on my other side. For once, he was quiet.

"You really loved her," he murmured. "Like... all the way."

"I still do," I whispered. "She’s not gone. Not really."

Liam and Mai stood close, arms wrapped around each other. Uncle Lucian just watched—silent, strong, proud.

My father looked at the group and gave a single nod. "Let’s go home."

We walked through the forest, the weight of it all pressing down on me.

But it felt different now. Not like grief.

More like a promise.

Hope had cracked the surface again.

Nova was out there.

And I’d bring her back—no matter what I had to burn to make it happen.