The moon rose blood-red that night.
It hovered over Raventhorn like an open wound in the sky, casting crimson light across the pack's walls, trees, and rooftops. Every wolf in the territory felt it restless energy stirring their beasts, driving them into silent panic.
Celina stood by her tiny window, eyes locked on the glowing sky, heart pulsing like a drumbeat of fate.
It was starting.
The Blood Moon. The event that marked the beginning of the supernatural rupture. She had seen it in her visions before she died, and now it was real. And worse, it had come earlier than in her previous life.
Why?
She clutched her chest. Her wolf paced beneath her skin not Lyra's meek little creature, but her own, reborn and chained in flesh that could barely contain it.
Something was off.
The timelines weren't aligning perfectly.
She wasn't just reliving her past.
She was rewriting it.
The next morning, the pack was on edge.
Growls echoed from the training fields. Wolves shifted mid-conversation. The scent of anxiety clung to every corner. And then, the unthinkable happened.
An outsider arrived.
Celina was scrubbing the stone steps outside the warriors' hall when the horns blew a single note, sharp and shrill.
Unannounced visitor. Rogue or foreign.
She stood, squinting toward the gate.
A rider approached on horseback cloaked in black, with a sigil she recognized instantly.
The Crescent Moon Coven.
Her blood turned to ice.
They were not supposed to come until next year. In her old timeline, their arrival marked the moment everything fell apart. Treaties crumbled. Factions broke. Blood ran through the rivers.
She had time until now.
Two warriors stepped forward, demanding the rider dismount. Instead, he threw back his hood.
Celina gasped.
It was Elias Rynne the warlock prince of the Crescent Moon.
And the man who once told her, "Darius will betray you. When he does, come find me."
She had laughed at him then.
Now… she trembled.
He was early.
Word spread fast.
The Alpha had summoned the warlock into his private council chamber. For hours, the high-ranking betas, guards, and scouts passed rumors through clenched jaws and flaring nostrils.
Celina listened from the shadows, a forgotten servant again.
Until she was summoned.
Not by the Alpha.
By Elias.
A warrior grabbed her by the arm near the dining hall. "You. The Alpha's guest has requested your presence."
She blinked. "Me?"
The warrior scowled. "Yes, Lyra. Try not to screw it up."
She was led into the east wing territory usually forbidden to servants.
A grand chamber with velvet curtains and polished obsidian floors.
There, standing near the fireplace, was Elias Rynne tall, lean, and devilishly calm. His eyes were ink-dark, with flecks of violet swirling like galaxies.
"You've changed," he said the moment the door shut.
Celina's breath caught. Did he?
"You carry two wolves now. One dormant. One ancient." He stepped closer, lips curling. "So… which one are you?"
She didn't respond. Couldn't. Not with the guards likely listening behind the door.
Elias smirked. "Still silent. Or just playing dead?"
He moved with the grace of a predator, circling her once before stopping behind her shoulder.
"I warned you back then. You didn't listen."
Her fists clenched. He was testing her.
"Now you've come back with new eyes… and a different scent." He inhaled near her neck, his voice dropping. "But your soul? It reeks of vengeance."
Celina turned to him, raising her chin just slightly.
Still mute. But her gaze was sharp enough to draw blood.
Elias chuckled. "Good. I was hoping you'd remember me."
He turned, pulling a small vial from his cloak. "Here. For your awakening. You'll need it before the Blood Moon cracks open the veil completely."
She stared at the vial violet liquid with silver streaks.
Witchbane.
A forbidden potion that amplified soul magic dangerous, volatile, and addictive.
But for her… possibly necessary.
Before she could speak, the door opened.
Darius.
He stood in the doorway like a storm bottled into flesh jaw tight, chest heaving, eyes burning with something more than anger.
"Why is she here?" he growled.
Elias turned, smiling. "Why not? She's interesting."
"She's mine."
Celina's breath caught.
Not Lyra. Not a servant. Not an omega.
"She's mine."
The bond tugged hard, aching.
Elias raised a brow. "Possession, Alpha? Or protection?"
Darius didn't answer. He walked straight to Celina, grabbed her arm, and yanked her away.
She didn't resist.
Not yet.
The storm was building.
Let it rage.
Back in the Alpha's private chambers, the silence between them was unbearable.
He stared at her like she'd betrayed him.
And for once, the irony made her want to laugh.
"I don't know what spell that bastard warlock cast on you," Darius muttered, pacing. "But stay away from him. He's dangerous."
So are you.
She wanted to scream it.
He turned sharply. "Why were you with him? What did he give you?"
She looked at the pouch in her pocket, then back at him expression blank, lips sealed.
"I don't know who you are anymore," Darius whispered.
Good.
Let him stay confused.
It was safer that way.
For now