Chapter 7
The Moon Rite had not been invoked in over a century.
That alone was enough to unsettle the city.
By dawn, the news had spread beyond Crescent and Night territories, whispered through neutral factions and underground channels alike. An ancient law. A public challenge. A ritual meant to decide ownership, dominance, and—when abused—eradication.
Kai stood at the border platform, staring at the sigil burned into the stone.
A crescent fractured by claw marks.
Night Pack's mark.
"They're forcing visibility," Jiro said grimly beside him. "No shadows. No deniability."
"They want witnesses," Kai replied. "So no matter how it ends, the world accepts it."
Across the boundary, the Night Pack envoy waited.
Alpha Voren.
Old. Powerful. Cruel in the way only someone protected by tradition could afford to be.
"The Moon Rite demands representation," Voren announced, his voice carrying effortlessly. "The Enigma stands accused of destabilizing the balance. Crescent Pack may defend them—if they dare."
Kai stepped forward. "I'll represent Crescent."
A ripple of surprise moved through both packs.
Voren's lips curved. "An Omega-born Alpha defending an Enigma," he mused. "How poetic."
Kai ignored the jab. "State the terms."
"Three trials," Voren said smoothly. "Dominance. Control. Restraint."
The third word landed hardest.
"The Enigma participates?" Kai asked.
"Yes," Voren replied. "Willingly or not."
Kai's scent spiked, sharp with anger.
"That violates—"
"Ancient law allows it," Voren interrupted. "Unless Crescent forfeits."
Silence fell.
Forfeiture meant surrender.
Surrender meant the Enigma would be taken, dissected, studied—or destroyed.
Kai turned.
The Enigma stood a short distance away, expression unreadable, eyes reflecting the pale morning light. They had already understood. Already accepted the shape of what was coming.
"I won't let them hurt you," Kai said quietly.
The Enigma smiled faintly. "You can't promise that."
"I can try."
"That," they said softly, "is why this is dangerous."
---
The Rite began at moonrise.
A circular arena formed by converging faction leaders, barriers humming with suppressive energy designed to limit—but not eliminate—power. The Night Pack wanted the Enigma constrained.
They were afraid.
Trial One: Dominance
Kai faced Voren directly.
No weapons. No shifting. Raw presence.
Voren released his Alpha pressure immediately, a crushing wave meant to force submission. Lesser members of the crowd staggered.
Kai held.
His knees trembled. His vision blurred.
But he did not bow.
Instead, he focused inward—on balance, on control, on the quiet strength that came from knowing who he was rather than proving it.
Slowly, inexorably, Voren's pressure faltered.
Kai stepped forward once.
Then again.
Voren snarled.
The crowd erupted.
Trial One: Crescent victory.
---
Trial Two: Control
This time, the Enigma stood alone in the center of the arena.
The trial required them to access their power without destabilizing reality. A paradox by design.
Suppressors flared.
The Enigma closed their eyes.
The air shuddered.
Kai felt it immediately—time stretching thin, space folding inward. A scream tore from the barriers as cracks spiderwebbed across the field.
"Enough!" Voren shouted. "They're losing control!"
"They're holding back," Kai snapped.
The Enigma's hands trembled. Blood slid from their nose. But the distortion stabilized.
Barely.
Trial Two: inconclusive.
Which meant only one thing.
---
Trial Three: Restraint
The cruelest trial of all.
The Enigma was bound with suppressive chains, their power forcibly locked. Their task was simple in wording and brutal in execution:
Endure.
No retaliation.
No reality-warping.
Just pain.
Kai watched the first strike land.
Then the second.
Then the third.
His heart hammered violently, every instinct screaming at him to intervene.
"This proves nothing!" he shouted.
"It proves control," Voren replied coldly. "Or lack thereof."
The Enigma did not cry out.
They met Kai's gaze across the arena, eyes bright with unshed tears and something else—resolve.
Do not interfere, their expression said.
Kai clenched his fists until blood welled.
When the final strike fell, the Enigma collapsed—but did not break.
Silence swallowed the arena.
Voren scowled. "They survived. But survival is not innocence."
Kai stepped forward, voice shaking with fury. "They showed restraint. More than any Alpha here."
Murmurs spread.
The neutral factions whispered.
Voren realized too late that the crowd had shifted.
The Moon Rite ended not with condemnation—but uncertainty.
And uncertainty was dangerous.
---
That night, Kai found the Enigma alone again, seated on the floor of their quarters, suppressive cuffs still glowing faintly.
He knelt without thinking, hands hovering uselessly.
"I should've stopped it," he whispered.
The Enigma looked up at him, bruised but smiling faintly. "You honored the Rite. That matters."
"It shouldn't," Kai said hoarsely. "Not when it hurts you."
The Enigma reached out, fingers brushing his cheek.
The touch was gentle.
Intimate.
"Careful, Kai," they murmured. "Restraint is your trial now."
He leaned into the touch before he could stop himself.
And in that moment, with the world watching and the laws tightening around them, Kai understood the truth with brutal clarity:
Loving an Enigma was not just forbidden.
It was an act of defiance.