“It’s the antidote for your mother,” Zander said, hand trembling. “I gave Ava a potion so she could manipulate the Queen Mother.”
Gavriel’s jaw tightened. “You let that wretch control my mother?”
“Yes. I’ll accept whatever punishnt you decide. But the antidote works, give it to her as soon as you return,” Zander explained.
Gavriel studied Zander for a long mont, then finally took the bottle. “If my mother suffers lasting harm, I will destroy your House myself. Do you understand?”
“I do,” Zander said.
As soon as Zander turned back toward the cottage, he froze. Most of his clan mbers and loyal followers of their clan were already gathered there, waiting for him. They stood in a wide arc beneath the trees, their faces tight with hope, fear, and years of silent suffering.
Arlan stepped forward first. “Master...” His voice carried a question he didn’t dare speak aloud. Everyone felt it. They had been waiting too long for an answer that could change their fate.
Zander knew exactly what they were thinking. How many years had they lived in hiding? How many hos were burned? How many families scattered because the Cross Clan refused to stop hunting them?
The weight of those mories pressed on all of them, but today—finally—Zander wasn’t bringing another warning or another loss. He let out a slow breath and gave them a small smile.
“He agreed,” Zander said. “The Alpha King will fight with us.”
For a heartbeat, the forest was silent. Then cheers erupted all at once, echoing through the trees like a battle cry. So mbers fell to their knees. Others lifted their arms to the sky. A few simply covered their faces as tears stread freely.
Zander stood still, watching them, his own eyes stinging. He had carried their hope on his back for so long that he’d forgotten what it felt like to breathe without fear. Seeing them celebrate—laughing, weeping, clinging to each other—hit him harder than any blade could.
Arlan grabbed his shoulders, voice breaking. “You did it, Master.” He swiped at his wet eyes, unable to hide how relieved he was.
Zander shook his head. “We did it. All of us survived long enough to reach this mont.”
The cheering slowly quieted as the clan gathered closer, waiting for his next words. Zander straightened, the leader in him returning.
“Listen well,” he said, voice steady. “This victory isn’t the end. It’s only the beginning. There’s still a lot to prepare, and we can’t afford to be careless.”
He scanned their faces—young, old, battle-scarred, frightened, determined.
“All of you must train harder than ever,” Zander continued. “Strengthen your bodies. Sharpen your abilities. I won’t lose anyone—not again. Not before we reclaim the lands that were stolen from us. Not before we raise the Ivanov Clan banner over the House of Aetherion once more.”
A firm, unified shout answered him.
“Yes, Master!”
The sound was strong... stronger than fear, stronger than the years of hiding and running. It vibrated through the ground, through their bones, like the first sign of dawn after a long night.
For the first ti in decades, hope didn’t feel dangerous. It felt real.
The cheers had barely faded when Zander lifted a hand, signaling them to quiet down.
“There’s sothing else you must all know,” Zander said. His voice dropped into a more serious tone.
The clan leaned in, eyes fixed on him.
“It’s about Lady Althea,” he continued. “She’s not just an outsider. She’s blood—our blood.”
A murmur rippled through the crowd.
Zander took a slow breath. “Lady Althea is the daughter of Princess Thea Ivanov... and General Atlas Grant.”
The reaction was imdiate, gasps and hands covering mouths. A few fell to their knees in disbelief.
Arlan stared at him as if he had misheard. “Master... do you an—Princess Thea’s daughter survived?”
“Yes.” Zander nodded firmly. “She survived. And she’s been living her whole life without knowing who she truly is. Althea carries the Ivanov bloodline. She carries the Aetherion legacy.”
Emotion surged through their ranks again, but this ti it wasn’t just joy — it was pride, relief, and a fierce, long-buried sense of belonging.
Zander continued, “She’s also a descendant of the main branch. When we reclaim our ho, she will stand with us as a rightful heir.”
Soone choked out a shaky laugh. “The House of Aetherion is really going to rise again...”
Another wiped their tears. “Princess Thea’s child... she’s alive... all this ti...”
But Zander wasn’t finished.
“And there’s more you need to hear.” He lifted his chin, eting each gaze. “The Alpha King has agreed to enter a matrimony with her.”
The forest fell into stunned silence.
A matrimony with the Alpha King... With the ruler of the Realm of the Moon... It was a bond that would change the balance of power across kingdoms.
Zander explained calmly, “Once we reclaim the House of Aetherion and restore everyone’s rightful titles, Althea will formally beco his wife in accordance with our culture. This union will secure protection for the Ivanov line and strengthen our foothold once the Cross Clan retaliates.”
Arlan stepped forward again, completely overwheld. “Master... this changes everything.”
“It does,” Zander agreed softly. “The Alpha King didn’t make this decision lightly. You know what it ans for him to take a bride from another bloodline, especially this bloodline. But he gave his word.”
The clan mbers exchanged looks of disbelief and cautious hope.
A young woman whispered, “Princess Althea... our future Queen...”
Soone else added, “And the Alpha King as our ally... no one will dare hunt us again.”
Zander lifted both hands to regain their attention. “But rember, none of this will matter if we relax now. The Cross Clan still exists. And they will strike harder once they learn the Ivanov bloodline has resurfaced.”
The cheering died down, replaced by a determined focus.
Zander nodded with satisfaction. “Today, we rest. Tomorrow, we train twice as hard. When the day cos, we fight as one to take back what was stolen. For our ancestors. For our children. For the House of Aetherion.”
A powerful roar answered him.
“For the House of Aetherion!”
Their voices rolled through the forest like thunder—strong, united, unbreakable.
For the first ti in decades, the Ivanov Clan didn’t feel like ghosts hiding in the shadows. They felt like a people rising.
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