Bloodclaw Fortress – The Hall of Elders
The fortress was quiet, except for the low crackling of the fireplace and the slow shuffle of ancient feet.
Damien stood in the middle of the Hall of Elders, his arms crossed, jaw clenched as Elder Malric circled him like a hawk. The rest of the Elders sat silently in carved chairs, their faces partially veiled by shadows and age.
"She's here," Malric muttered, fingers running over a glowing rune carved into his staff. "The marked one. The wolf from the prophecy."
Damien didn't flinch. "We don't know that yet."
"You saw her," another Elder croaked. "Felt the bond. Smelled the magic on her skin."
"She is the red moon child," another added. "She will be your mate. And your ruin."
Damien turned his gaze toward the stained-glass window, where the Moon Goddess was depicted in flowing white, cradling a silver wolf in her arms. The colored light danced across the floor like blood and flame.
"What if it's wrong?" he asked quietly. "What if the prophecy was never meant to be interpreted so literally?"
Malric slammed his staff to the ground. "You dare question sacred words that have guided our pack for centuries?"
"I question everything that threatens my people," Damien snapped, his voice hardening. "Including myths."
The silence in the hall thickened.
"You've always been stubborn," Malric said. "But even you can't deny fate. If she is the one, then she must be watched. Closely."
"I'm not going to kill her on a hunch."
"No," the oldest Elder rasped, his eyes milky. "But you will fall. Because of her."
Damien said nothing more.
He turned and left the Hall without another word, the door slamming behind him as the Elders murmured like a flock of anxious birds.
Lower Wing – Holding Cell
Avelyn stood at the small basin in the corner of her cell, splashing cold water onto her face. Her hair hung in damp waves around her shoulders, the dirt slowly washing off. Her skin bore new bruises from the scuffle the night before, but none of it compared to the ache she felt deep in her chest.
The bond.
It was there. Quiet, constant, humming through her veins like a second heartbeat.
Every time Damien was near, it flared to life like fire licking up her spine. And when he left, it ached.
She hated it.
She hadn't asked for this bond. She hadn't asked for fate. She hadn't asked to be marked by the moon or chased by prophecy.
All she'd ever wanted was to be free.
Free of the hunters.
Free of the ancient bloodlines that had torn her family apart.
Free of the destiny that whispered her name in the wind.
The door creaked open.
She didn't turn around.
"I'm not hungry," she said, voice low.
"I didn't bring food."
His voice.
Low. Gravelly. Familiar now.
Too familiar.
She tensed as Damien stepped inside, his presence pressing against her like a wall of heat and gravity. She kept her eyes on her reflection in the basin's water. Her eyes were tired. Her lips too tight. Her defenses still upbut crumbling.
"You're bleeding," he said.
She glanced down at her forearm. A shallow cut from earlier, already crusting over. "It's nothing."
He crossed the room before she could protest and took her arm gently.
His touch startled her, not rough or forceful like before. Careful. Controlled. Warm.
"I said it's nothing," she whispered.
He ignored her, retrieving a cloth from his pocket. He dabbed the cut with water, then wrapped it with black gauze from his belt pouch.
"I don't need your help."
"Too bad," he said, voice soft.
Their eyes met.
And time… paused.
His hands lingered a second too long.
His thumb brushed against the inside of her wrist, where her pulse betrayed her, quick and frantic.
Something shifted in his gaze, from guarded to primal.
And then, he leaned closer.
Her breath caught.
His lips hovered near the crook of her neck, and for one terrifying heartbeat, his mouth grazed the skin just below her jaw. His canines sharpened. The bond pulled taut between them like a tether yanked at both ends.
He inhaled.
And she knew what was happening.
He was about to mark her.
Her wolf froze.
"Damien…" she whispered, not in fear, but warning.
He stopped.
A breath, harsh and shaken, escaped his lips.
Slowly, reluctantly, he pulled back, his body trembling with restraint.
"I'm not doing this," he muttered, more to himself than her. "Not like this."
Her knees weakened slightly with the sudden release of tension, and she nearly stumbled back. But he caught her by the elbow.
Avelyn stiffened, expecting another challenge, another power play.
But Damien simply steadied her. His fingers curled around her waist, anchoring her until her balance returned.
"Careful," he said, voice low. "You're stronger than most, but you're still healing."
She should've pulled away. Should've shoved him off and snarled a threat. But something about the moment, the honesty in it, disarmed her.
So she let him hold her.
Just for a breath.
"You're not what I expected," he murmured.
"I get that a lot," she said, voice shaking despite herself.
"I thought I'd be able to ignore it," he admitted. "The bond. The pull. But it's... it's stronger than anything I've felt before."
Avelyn's throat tightened. "That doesn't make it right."
"No," Damien said. "It doesn't."
They stood in silence, tension pulsing like a second heartbeat between them.
Then she asked what had been eating her alive.
"Have there been others?"
He frowned. "Others?"
"Women. Before me. Who you thought were your mate."
Damien looked away. "There were women. But not like this."
"So this is different."
"Yes."
Her heart fluttered despite herself. "And it scares you."
"Yes," he said again, more quietly. "Because I can't protect my pack from something I don't understand."
Avelyn moved back to the stone bench and sat, curling her fists into her lap.
"I didn't come here to destroy your pack," she said.
"Then why did you come?"
She hesitated.
"I don't know."
"Liar."
Her head snapped up.
"I think," she said slowly, "something has been calling me here. For years. In my dreams. In my instincts. I ignored it until I couldn't anymore."
Damien's brow furrowed. "You think the forest drew you?"
"No. Something in the forest. Something older than us."
He stepped forward. "The ruins."
Her eyes widened.
"You've seen them?"
He nodded. "Not all of them. They're hidden. Protected. But there are markings. Runes like the one on your shoulder."
Avelyn stood again, heart pounding. "What do they mean?"
"I don't know," he said. "But my father died trying to uncover their meaning. And my mother went mad."
Avelyn swallowed. "So we're both children of broken bloodlines."
Damien gave a bitter chuckle. "Looks like fate has a sense of humor."
They locked eyes again. And this time, the weight between them wasn't just chemistry.
It was truth.
It was recognition.
He took a breath. "I want to show you something. But you'll need to trust me."
She narrowed her eyes. "That's a big ask."
"I know."
He held out his hand.
Her heart thudded.
The bond tugged at her like a silken chain.
Everything inside her screamed to resist. To fight. To run.
But she didn't.
Instead, she slowly reached out and placed her hand in his.
His grip was firm. Warm. Solid.
And terrifying.
Because deep down, she knew, once she took that hand, once she stepped out of this cell, there would be no turning back.
Not for her.
Not for him.
Not for the prophecy that had just begun to unfold.
Moonspire Ruins – Edge of Bloodclaw Forest
They rode in silence.
Avelyn clutched the saddle tightly as the horse moved through a hidden path in the woods. Damien sat behind her, guiding the reins, his body heat pressing against her back. She hated how much comfort it gave her.
The trees thinned, revealing a clearing bathed in moonlight. Towering stones stood like ancient sentinels, half-buried in moss and cracked by time. Symbols glowed faintly on their surfaces, curved lines, spirals, crescent shapes.
Avelyn slid off the horse, her breath catching.
She stepped forward and placed a hand against one of the stones.
The mark on her shoulder flared.
Light burst from the rune, soft, silvery, and humming with ancient magic.
Behind her, Damien cursed under his breath. "That's never happened before."
"I've never been here before."
Avelyn turned to him, eyes wide.
"These stones… they're calling."
Damien nodded. "To you."
Avelyn stepped closer to the center of the ruins. The air thickened with power. Her wolf surged forward, not in fear, but in recognition.
Something was awakening.
A prophecy.
A curse.
A destiny she didn't yet understand.
She turned to Damien.
"What happens now?"
He didn't answer right away.
Then, his voice low and steady: "Now… we figure out if we're meant to save this world together
or
burn it to the ground."