The Kings Luna Re-written

20

Bianca POV

In just a matter of hours, the WestMoon pack became a hive of activity, swarming with members from the royal pack. Cane's orders cut through the chaos, ordering doctors to aid ailing pack mates and elders to destroy the cursed plant, which was found to be a sister to the wolfsbane plant, and immediate contact meant a lethal dose. An enchantment was placed on the already dangerous flower causing it to use Elijah as a host and drain him of everything. It was explained that as the flower grew, its roots would have spread throughout the home, buried themselves into the soil, and eventually killed everyone in the WestMoon pack.

The doctors were able to heal the sick, and it wasn't long again; all were cleared of any effects from the poisonous flower. My hypothesis was correct; Carson shifted for the first time two nights after the fever—at only eleven, the youngest in the pack's history. The elders said his body was too far along to stop, and his first shift was inevitable.

The fate of the pack house was a different story. The air crackled with urgency as the elders performed their rituals, ancient words, and incantations mingling with the heavy tension in the atmosphere. Their voices carried the weight of generations, their gestures resonating with a power that reached deep into the core of our pack. But though the flower was destroyed, a sense of darkness still lingered.

Elders worked tirelessly attempting to cleanse the pack house of its malevolent taint. It was a struggle, a relentless battle against a force that refused to be banished. The chants and prayers seemed to echo in the air, their potency battling against the lingering malevolence.

Despite their valiant efforts, it became clear that the after-effects of the enchanted flower lingered on. The elders' frustration was palpable; their brows furrowed as they faced an adversary that defied their expertise.

And so, a decision was reached, which felt like a reluctant surrender. The pack house, once a bastion of unity and camaraderie, was now tainted beyond repair. The very walls seemed to whisper of the venom that had taken hold. With heavy hearts, we watched as the flames engulfed what remained of the place that had once been our sanctuary.

Fire was the only way to break the curse.

The fire roared with fierce determination, its crackling flames a testament to the destruction and renewal that it brought. Embers danced in the night, like fading memories of the shared moments within those walls. As I watched the fire consume the building, a mixture of sorrow and melancholy grew within me.

Smoke billowed into the night sky, carrying with it the echoes of history. It was a solemn farewell, a release of the past, and a promise of a new beginning. Amid the destruction, a sense of unity emerged. Pack members gathered, their faces illuminated by the fire's glow, their eyes reflecting a shared resolve. The pack house might be gone, but spirits endured.

With the dawn's light, the fire began to fade, its embers turning to ashes. And as the last flicker of flame died out, I felt a strange mix of emotions—sadness for what was lost but a glimmer of hope for what could be.

Elijah's body underwent a purification ritual, and the darkness that possessed him was carefully erased. Elders worked hard to ensure that no trace of the evil energy remained to taint the earth. With reverence, he was laid to rest beside his father, a final reunion in the realm of spirits.

Lois's grief was unimaginable, a heavy cloud that hung over her. Her tears fell freely, a river of sorrow that no one could understand. She had lost not just a mate but also her only pup – a double blow that struck at the very heart of her being. As we stood by her side, we offered our support. My mother and the Beta's wife stepped forward, but their comforting words did little to bandage Lois's wounded heart.