The Second Chance Of The Rejected Moon (Celine and Bastian) novel Chapter 167

Chapter 167

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They didn’t share their reserves with the other camps because they knew that if the war dragged on, they would need to conserve their strength to survive.

Now that decision makes all the difference.

One of Darius’s warriors lunges at one of them and manages to take him down, but two others immediately jump on him. One breaks his arm. The other sinks his fangs into his neck.

Blood mixes with the rainwater and runs through the mud.

Casius watches the battle from the ground and realizes too late what is happening.

“What the hell?!”

Tanner grabs him by the hair and forces him to raise his head.

“I told you. My pack is the largest.”

Casius tries to strike him, but Tanner blocks the punch and twists his arm until he forces him to his knees.

Around them, the battle begins to turn.

Tanner’s warriors advance without stopping, and the others retreat under the pressure of a pack fighting with a ferocity none of them expected. The first bodies fall among the mud and blood.

One of Tanner’s wolves lunges at one of the enemy warriors and sinks his fangs into his throat, tearing it open in a single movement before throwing him to the ground. Another takes a swipe that opens his chest and falls onto his back as blood mixes with the rain and runs through the tracks left by the fighters.

Growls turn into screams of pain, and bodies slam into one another in an increasingly savage struggle. Some try to escape toward the heart of the forest, only to find Tanner’s wolves waiting for them among the trees.

One of the fugitives barely manages to take three steps before a figure lunges at him from the darkness. The impact knocks him down, and two other wolves pounce on him, tearing him apart as his screams are drowned out by thunder that shakes the entire forest.

Darius’s men are no longer advancing.

They’re running.

And that’s precisely what turns them into prey.

Tanner watches as his people pursue those trying to flee. Some enemies drop to their knees and raise their hands, while others stumble over roots and are caught before they can get back up. The ground is covered in blood, abandoned weapons, and motionless bodies. Those who are still fighting do so desperately, but their movements grow slower and slower. Hunger has drained their strength, and the battle consumes whatever little they have left.

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The Second Chance Of The Rejected Moon

76

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Darius watches from a distance, standing motionless in the rain as the blood of his own warriors washes into the mud. For the first time, the confidence disappears from his face. Before him, his army is being defeated with a ferocity he never expected from the men he considered too hungry, too tired, and too cowardly to rebel.

The screams of his warriors blend with the growls of Tanner’s wolves and the roar of the storm as bodies lie scattered among the tents and trees. It wasn’t the castle’s army that broke his ranks. It wasn’t the towers, the walls, or Lemuria’s weapons.

It was Tanner.

Tanner raises his eyes toward him from the center of the battlefield. His face is covered in blood, his chest rises and falls with every breath, and four deep wounds cut across his side. Around him, members of his pack remain standing among the bodies of the men who came to stop them from leaving.

Darius has just discovered something he should have understood long ago. Tanner was never running away. He was waiting for the right moment to stop obeying, surrounded by the very men Darius had considered weak, starving, and too frightened to rebel. Now those men stand behind their new leader, covered in mud and blood, while the bodies of their own warriors lie scattered among the tents.

Casius tries to get back on his feet, but Tanner grabs him by the throat before he can stand. He lifts him with one hand, his feet leaving the ground.

“If you kill me, Darius will come for your people.”

Tanner stares at him. There is no anger in his eyes, only a decision that has already been made.

“Your father doesn’t have any people left.”

The other alphas remain silent. None of them moves to help Casius. None of them tries to stop Tanner. Darius looks at them one by one from the other end of the camp, searching their faces for the loyalty he believed he still had only minutes ago, but he finds nothing. Not a single pair of eyes meets his.

Nick is the first to lower his weapon. Then another does the same, and then another, until the seven remaining alphas begin moving away from Darius and toward Tanner. They don’t need to argue about it for hours. They’ve seen enough. They’ve seen Casius speak about his own sister with contempt. They’ve watched hundreds of warriors die in a war they don’t even know why they’re still fighting. And they’ve watched Tanner face the men who came to stop him practically alone and still emerge victorious.

Darius takes a step toward them.

“What are you doing?”

No one answers.

Tanner keeps his eyes on him for several seconds before looking back at Casius. Darius’s son is still trying to free himself from his grip, clawing at Tanner’s arm while his legs kick uselessly in the air. Tanner tightens his fingers around his throat, and the sharp crack of bone breaking is lost beneath a clap of thunder.

Casius’s body goes completely limp, and Tanner lets him fall into the mud.

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