The Alpha's Shadow

Chapter 18: Midnight Siege

The northern wind keened relentlessly over Avaloria's ramparts beneath a starless void, mocking their frail mortal efforts to forestall oblivion's maw. Soldiers huddled along the parapets in anxious knots, breath frosting beneath their scarred helms. All gazes faced north even as a different threat now massed at their very gates. After weeks besieged by shadows and dread, reality struck brutal as any warhammer—the wolf horde bayed now almost beneath their broken walls, eclipsing even nightmare's savage scope.

Luna paced the battlement restlessly, willing her frayed composure to hold as howls rose up from the darkness, forerunners of the storm's fury soon to break upon their wretched city's walls. She had stood sentinel here countless nights, refusing retreat even as reason cried the cause hopeless. And still her weary tread never faltered. If these were to be their final hours beneath the indifferent moon, she would spend each one sworn to duty's call however bitter its requisites grew. Let the besieging fiends catalogue all her failings and petty shortcomings if they must. She would not yield heart or conscience while breath remained. That piece of tarnished honor stood sacrosanct when all else eroded. Some covenants truly rested beyond sundering once forged in blood.

A cacophony of unnatural roars jolted Luna from bleak thoughts. All along the crenelated ramparts, soldiers grabbed weapons and shuffled close with frightened oaths. She tensed as well, squinting into the roiling dark. But the expected assault still hesitated, though its vanguard now crouched scarcely a stone's throw beyond the frail city walls. Even at this distance, Luna could make out forms of giant beasts prowling the gloom amidst unseen ranks, their eyes burning defiance like ritual pyres. Beneath threadbare cloak she clenched one fist tight until the pain grounded unsteady nerves. Let them come in their multitudes, teeth bared beneath the bloody moon. These ramparts would hold or be buried with her blood as their mortar, one way or the other when the tempest fell at last.

A muttered oath near Luna's shoulder heralded Marco's arrival, mirrored worry lining his haggard features beneath grime and weathering creases. He spared the seething dark horde only a hard glance before fixing her with an imploring look instead. "You need rest, Luna. This is no place for--"

"For those who fight with words while you hold the line with steel?" Luna regretted her bitterness instantly, but exhaustion wore at restraint. Grasping her old partner's forearm gently, she offered a threadbare smile instead. "My place is here beside you, same as ever."

Marco shook his head slowly, clearly dismayed at her stubbornness, but knew better than to press the issue. Together they turned to observe the unearthly tableau, so near to the city gates and yet stalled by some unknowable dread or design neither tired mind could fathom. The shaggy ocean of werebeasts milled and prowled, their guttural snarls mingling like breakers crashing just offshore, waiting...but not yet unleashed. Luna frowned, pulse quickening despite leaden fatigue and the unbreachable walls at her back. Something primal in their patient posture set nerves on edge. Whatever the beast horde waited for in the gloom, she knew with dread certainty that human concepts of mercy could never shape its design. They faced true evil given form this night, wanton violence divorced from conscience.

When no assault immediately came in the massing dark, Marco's fingers found Luna's shoulder, rough with urgency. "You should go prepare our final reserves and defenses. I'll stand watch here." Sensing her automatic refusal, he pressed on sternly. "We both know I'm no strategist. Buying time and morale before the siege falls is what we need from you now." His eyes softened, reflecting the depth of their years fighting side by side. "Trust me to hold the walls."

Luna wavered only a heartbeat before slowly nodding acceptance. Marco spoke wisdom however it galled proud spirit to retreat from the coming tempest. But she could indeed better serve their ravaged city marshaling what frail defenses remained than standing helpless vigil against the soon-unleashed storm. With a fierce last glance at the slavering horde poised to unleash hell upon Avaloria, she turned reluctantly to make her way down from the brooding ramparts. Their final hour crept closer beneath these merciless stars. But Luna swore to herself that humanity would greet it unflinching, whatever tragedy or valor this bloody night saw writ across their futures.