The lightness of the full moon shone brightly upon the frozen earth, as the ever-present white snow glistened and sparkled, making the darkness of night not that much different from the whiteness of day.

The small diamonds of snow seemed to glitter all around, like small lights of a theatre's stage, a stage prepared for the most important battle in the werewolves' history, as though the Moon Goddess herself had wanted to witness this night, and prepared the battlefield beforehand.

But, unfortunately, the light of the Moon soon enough would have to be enough to light the battlefield for the only spectator of this gruesome play, as the white silvery snow, was slowly beginning to be dyed in a bright crimson color.

The thousands of werewolves had not ran much longer, before seeing in the distance what seemed to be a fortress like castle, when their attention was redirected from the objective ahead, towards the obstacles in front.

Thousands of werewolves were ordered to participate, members of the Council, royal guards, teachers at the Academy, and pretty much all ranked werewolves males that could have gathered within the hour, howled and growled at the sight of their enemies, ready to attack as the order was given.

Enemies they would have never thought existed, savage mindless creatures that should never be allowed to see the light of day, roamed in front of them, beings that would have been brought to life by their ancestors' sins. Beasts created by breaking the third taboo, lycans.

Lycans could never transform into full wolves, their body at most resembled a failed attempt at creating one, because of their head which indeed looked like a wolf's, but they still walked and looked like humans from below their necks to their feet, with the only difference being their body that was covered in ruffled fur, and their spine elongating itself in a tail.

But normal werewolves, in wolf form, would not be that much different from a real wolf, if you did not take into account their size.

The werewolves were horrified at such a sight, a lycan had only ever once successfully been created, but by realizing the abomination, the werewolves that discovered the atrocious being terminated its life.

They were extinct, a black spot in werewolves' history, but here they were numbering thousands. This sight would have normally caught them of guard, but in the presence of the king, lycans did not matter, what they meant made no difference. As long as he could get to his mate, he was capable of even passing through fire, much less creatures.

A loud commanding howl escaped his snout, as he directed his head towards the moon, reaching the ears of the werewolves, and restoring the general order. It was as though he was informing the Goddess of the start of their play, their war, it was also an order to freely attack, charge forward with everything they got.

As all the werewolves moved with their heavy paws smashing the ground, pushing themselves forward, they followed closely behind the members of the Council, who were steadily running in the shadow of Salas, creating an arrow like formation, charging, piercing through the middle of the thousands of lycans.

Arriving in front of them, Sky took the first blood as he ripped through shreds a lycan, that did not manage to react, much less attack. Near the lycans it could be seen clearly, Salas was at least two times larger than even the biggest of lycans, not that it was that important. He was not interested in fighting as many as he could.

His purpose was not to fight them, but to pass through them. So fighting in a coordinated attack, Sky and Salas, interchanged quickly and strategically between each other, the human side swiftly going through them partially transformed, clawing only when he had no other choice as the lycans gathered even more towards him.

When the lycans multiplied, giving him no other way out, Sky would take control transforming completely, jamming through their numbers, before Salas took control again. Sky had force, while Salas speed, they were a fearsome combination, that decimated tens of lycans, even though they did not try particularly to do so, as they only fought the lycans in their path.

Closely behind, covering his back and assuring they would not be circled around, the Council members, experienced tacticians, warriors of many fights, coordinated the others, as all around fights broke out.

Clashes of fangs, claws, fierce howls dominated the battlefield. You could not see other results for the ending of this battle, as the thought in everyone's mind, werewolves and lycans alike, was only one, death.

***

Standing in a huge conference like room, Celia's face was littered with tears, near the throne of Fenrir, as they watched the clashing through a giant mirror on the opposite wall, courtesy of a small witch's spell, a witch that had previously casted spells on the students in the forest.

"Does it bother you that your fellow werewolves are fighting, that they are dying?" Fenrir impassibly asked. With a hand sustaining his head, he looked on ahead as though he was only a spectator, not a participant of this battle. He did not look happy seeing the deaths, but was also not upset, feeling disconnected from the situation entirely.

"Please stop. Why would you do this? All of them have souls, all of them have hearts! Why would you direct them towards their death?" Celia's voice hoarsely cried, her voice reverberating in the hollow room. In the past, she had hurt and killed hunters herself, to protect her life and the life of others, but the lycans now in a sense were innocent, even though they were killing the werewolves.

The lycans that were fighting were kidnapped humans forcefully transformed into creatures, they did not choose to act like how they were, as opposed to the hunters who had their own rationality and could decide for themselves.

Or perhaps it was the fact that the king's Luna was the one who would inhibit his ferocity, and by recognizing Salas as her mate, it had also changed her like this. She did not know which of these was the exact reason, of perhaps both were. But she knew for certain, it was wrong for this war to continue.

Fenrir did not reply, still looking expressionless, but a small frown appeared between his eyebrows. All had lives she said, was she talking about lycans and werewolves alike? It shook his heart, as werewolves only ever considered lycans abominations, creatures that could only be dealt with by killing them.

But she was shedding tears for all. A ruler, most likely send by the Goddess, showed tears for lycans, although the latter had rejected their existence? The irony, it seemed that the Goddess had made an error in her design. An error he very much welcomed.

"The lycans do not matter, they are only mindless creatures. And werewolves are not my concern." He stated to confirm his thoughts.

"It does not matter which of them are dying, they all are important. Even lycans were innocent before they were transformed, they do not deserve this!" She said, having less and less control of her emotions. Perhaps, it was the mother in her, the Luna in her speaking, but she felt upset for the lost lives.

"You could put an end to this if you would be my queen, you know?" Fenrir said, looking with narrowed eyes towards her.

***

Finally reaching, the rear of the enemy line, Salas mind linked Gabriel and the Council.

"I am going on ahead. I can faintly smell her, I will go retrieve my queen!" It was a very faint smell, it was barely there, but he knew she was in the fortress, so no matter what he would go to her as fast as he could.

"Wait, let us go with you!" Gabriel mind linked back. They were having a hard time, the lycans were strong indeed. They had defeated quite a few already, but the same could be said by the opposite side as well.

"No, there are too many. Coordinate the others, I will be fine by myself!" Salas said, and closed the connection, giving Gabriel and the others no chance to refuse or try to reason.

In his path, he had still encountered lycans and rogues alike. Although, the majority were outside the fortress fighting, it seemed that inside as well some still remained, in case of the fortress being breached.

But as before, he also disregarded their presence, fighting them only to go further to where he felt the scent getting stronger. He only briefly stopped, when in a hallway on the floor he found her jacket, distracting him a bit. A distraction that immediately was taken advantage of.

***

"Well, it seems our discussion will have to wait a little more. An uninvited guest has come for a visit." Fenrir stated, no longer conversing with Celia more.

He knew that Salas would reach here, he had expected as such. Unfortunately, the new wolfsbane weapons they made were difficult to create, and it had also gotten harder to procure the plants since they had used the bullets in the previous attacks, up until they kidnapped Celia.

Not to mention, the process itself was a long one. He sighed, if he could have had armed his lycans, the war would have ended much easier and faster.

Fortunately, at least inside the fortress, the guards were armed with them, and they proved themselves quite useful.

The door burst open, having being hit with a lycan's body, with Salas entering quickly after.

A truly stupid man, Fenrir thought. To come quicker for his mate, he had even disregarded his safety and his caution. Exactly as he said before, she really was his weakness. Fearing for her life, he had recklessly come and had gotten himself injured before even reaching her.

His abdomen and arms were shallowly clawed. Normally, it should have already healed, but to defeat that many guards, a few bullets filled wolfsbane still slightly grazed his skin. None hit him directly as he was too fast, but just the little substance with which the bullets were coated, was enough to impair with his ability to regenerate for a little while, but still he was full of vigor. Seeing her uninjured face, he finally felt like he could breathe.

A happiness Celia could not share, seeing him in his current state.

"Don't come!" She yelled at his approach, but her warning came too late. He was like a moth to a flame, even if she would burn him, he would still approach.

"Don't!" Celia said, but could not continue as her former teacher who was standing a little closer to her, swiftly grabbed her neck, keeping her in place.

Salas's eyes darkened again at the sight, he wanted to rip him apart, but a wrong move and that man would've snapped her neck in two.

"So this is the famous werewolf king. Honestly, I thought the man of which legends were written about, was more rational than this. Ohh, well... it is good for me." Fenrir said, with his hand still holding his head, seemingly bored.

His plans had been moved forward by Celia's appearance, but in fact her appearance made all the difference in him winning this battle, in him becoming the king. He had made a gamble, a gamble in anger caused by Salas having a mate, but as long as he won, it was perfect.

"Release my mate, or suffer the consequences!" Salas said angered, with his canines and claws already elongating in anger, as the room was beginning to be engulfed in his alpha aura.

"What consequences? That is a good joke. You are not in a position to show anger, or demand anything for that matter." Fenrir said smiling, a cold smile that did not reach his eyes.

"Don't, I always wanted to see who would be stronger, me or the king." Fenrir told his right hand, Cain, as the latter was going to go towards Salas.

Raising from his throne, he removed the black shirt he had on, and with a loud roar transformed himself in his lycan form.

He was the biggest lycan there was, Salas could clearly see that he was in fact the initial lycan, the one who had transformed all the others that were fighting outside.

But in front of his eyes Fenrir was still nonexistent, all he could see was the petite woman that was looking scared towards him, but could not say anything having her neck obstructed. The man behind her was only releasing his grip a little bit, just enough for her to breathe, but not to talk.

"It's alright!" He said looking at her, to reassure her worries, only then did he finally look towards Fenrir, as the latter had come towards him slowly, before disappearing. Anyone who saw the lycan, would say he vanished, but Salas's keen eyes saw that Fenrir had moved fast to his side, trying to catch him unprepared.

He thought that Salas would still act reckless and distracted like before, but Fenrir did not realize that with Celia in his eyes, he was undefeatable.

Salas avoided Fenrir with the same speed, and quickly punched Fenrir's abdomen. He had wanted to punch him again, but his hand was caught by Fenrir's big furry one, as the latter tried to throw him in the wall.

Salas steadied his feet, and did not hit the wall as Fenrir intended, having already transformed into Sky, and like how he had done before, started to coordinate with him, interchanging between man and wolf.

They struck with claws, bites, as each clash between them reverberated in the room, making small currents of air appear, making it seem like there were vibration everywhere, the force of both their hits akin to small earthquakes.

They fought with all they got, and they seemed almost evenly matched at first. Although, you could not really judge their strength fair, as Salas had already been running for his life to get to Celia, and had fought his way inside for the same reason. Not to mention, the wolfsbane was impeaching his regeneration.

Still with all the disadvantages, the difference in power slowly showed itself, and bit by bit, despite his injuries, Salas was overpowering the lycan.

Angered that even in his current state, the werewolf still managed to hold his position against him, Fenrir roared even angrier, stepping back, unsatisfied of what could be a defeat.

Transforming himself into a human again, the lycan had regained his natural ebony colored hair and blue eyes. In fact, right now he very much resembled Salas like this. He had hated seeing his father's face in the mirror, the face of the man he sacrificed, so he usually masked his real hair color and eyes with a spell, a spell that broke with him transforming into a lycan.

Fenrir was once again about to charge towards Salas in his human form, when a gunshot was heard.

"What are you doing?" Fenrir roared, looking towards Lucian, as the rogue appeared in front of the door and shot Salas from behind.

"My king..." Lucian wanted to explain himself, he only then realized that Fenrir was angry, he had wanted to fight Salas fair, but now with another wolfsbane bullet added in his stomach, there was no such chance.

Seeing her beloved hurt, even though he did not waver and stood firmly on his feet, Celia's heart felt like it was breaking into millions of pieces.

Everything was beginning to weigh on her more and more, as she felt powerless to help him, or the werewolves that were fighting outside. There was too much bloodshed, too much pain to bare.

"Sal..."She tried to voice, but could not with her constricted throat, making her feel even more helpless.

Fenrir did not let Lucian speak more, gesturing with his hand for the latter to stop.

"It seems that I cannot check further, which one of us is stronger, though I will recognize that before that shot... you were superior." He said, sighing. It would be petty of him to make himself appear like he was the one who had the upper hand, when he did not. Anyway, the victory of the entire battle, was his nonetheless.

Salas still did not care for what Fenrir was saying, having only her face in his eyes.

His feet were already once again moving in her direction, but he only made one step and Riddick had constricted her throat more. It was a threat, each step he would take would mean she would be closer to dying.

"My man will kill her, if you move closer. I suggest you stop. Now, that it came to this, I think we should end all of it, don't you? Let's avoid a lot more werewolves dying, alright? Stand still and let yourself be killed, or she will be the one to die." Fenrir said, looking towards Salas's already weak body.

Hearing him, Celia was trying to unravel the huge man's hand from around her neck, to reach Salas, but it would not budge. Looking towards him, she trembling tried to reach with her arms, as she gave up her attempt to unclench the man's arm.

He was looking up to her smiling, the mechanical man who never smiled at anyone, the man who was rumored to have a stone heart, was smiling softly at her reassuringly. No pain could be sense from his face, but she knew that he was barely hanging to his consciousness, how could he not, when his battered body filled with bullets of wolfsbane was now clawed by lycans.

At Fenrir's order, several lycans that had arrived with Lucian, were already near him. They were quickly leaving big slashes all across his body, but they were shallow, as shallow as they could be to ensure his death would be slow.

Fenrir was trying to make his death a painful one as possible, it would be a death littered with sufferings, up until he closed his eyes for the very last time.

"Stop it! I beg of you stop it!" She cried hoarsely as she forced herself trying to again unclench the arm around her throat , but there was no reaction from anyone. No one listened to her words.

"Stop it, please kill me instead!" She said with a voice filled with suffering, looking at the foolish man who was still smiling at her, to not frighten her.

How could Salas smile she thought, when she could feel his hurting until she did not know how he could keep his sanity. They had not marked each other yet, she was also suppressing her power, but their bond kept getting stronger, until she could feel all his emotions and pain like it was her own.

She knew how could he do it, he knew what reacting to their attacks meant, it would mean her demise. If Fenrir could not have her as a queen, then he would prefer her death instead.

Just as she felt torn to pieces, seeing her beloved ripped apart, just as she felt like she was the one who was suffering, with rolling tears flowing from her chocolate eyes, Crescent spoke to her slowly.

"Celia. Use your real power!"

She flinched when she heard the familiar voice, how could Crescent wake up?

She was supposed to still be dormant, but her fluctuating emotions, Waning's suffering, had loosened the constriction she was placed in. In fact, Crescent through sheer resilience, had drifted in and out of consciousness the entire time. And, although, she did not know what the exact situation was, when Clarissa had explained what would happen to her, she had heard them also, she knew why Celia was suppressing her power.

"I cannot, the ring has not finished your transfer. Stopping it now would mean your death!" Celia immediately denied. This was her sister, she had been with Celia since birth. She and Waning had already robbed Crescent's future, by absorbing her sister, how could she hurt her once more.

" Why do you... and Waning as well' The wolf said upset, almost raging.