Chapter 3: The Truth Beneath the Moon

Raven sat alone in the small, dimly lit room, her mind racing. She had been in the park for what felt like an eternity, but the events of the past few hours were still a blur. The wolves' cold reception, their cryptic words, the sudden mention of a prophecy—all of it felt like a dream, a twisted nightmare she couldn't wake from.

The room she was placed in was sparsely furnished—just a small bed and a wooden table. A single window allowed a sliver of moonlight to filter in, casting long shadows across the floor. The silence was oppressive, broken only by the occasional howl in the distance. Raven shivered, the cold biting at her skin.

She glanced at the door, wondering what would happen next. The red-haired woman who had led her here had been silent since the moment they entered the cabin. Raven could still feel her eyes on her, sharp and calculating. She was waiting for something, but Raven didn't know what.

The thought of the prophecy lingered in her mind, a whisper she couldn't shake. What did they mean?

She had to know more. But what could she do? She was trapped in this unfamiliar place with wolves who seemed to know more about her than she did. It was all too much, too overwhelming.

Outside the room, she heard footsteps approaching. The door opened, and a tall figure stepped inside. It wasn't the red-haired woman this time. Instead, it was someone else—someone new. His presence was commanding, yet there was something different about him. His dark hair and strong features stood out in the low light, but it was his gaze that caught her attention. His eyes, a striking blue, seemed to assess her with a mixture of curiosity and caution.

Raven's heart skipped a beat as he stepped closer, his footsteps heavy but measured.

"You're awake," he said, his voice smooth and steady. He looked at her with an intensity that sent a ripple through her chest.

"Who are you?" Raven asked, her voice shaky but trying to stay strong.

The man tilted his head slightly, as if contemplating whether to answer. "Jace Wilder," he said after a moment. "I'm here to make sure you're alright."

"Alright?" Raven echoed, her mind still spinning. "I'm not sure what's going on, Jace. I don't even know where I am anymore."

Jace stepped further into the room, his posture relaxed, though his eyes never left hers. "You're safe, for now. But I can't say I know the answers to all your questions. No one does. Not yet."

"Why am I here?" Raven asked, the frustration rising in her chest. "Why is this happening to me?"

Jace's expression softened, and he took a step closer, the weight of his presence grounding her. "I don't know everything either, but I do know you're not like the others here. There's something about you. I've been watching you for a while now."

Raven's breath caught in her throat. "You've been watching me?"

Jace nodded, his gaze steady but not unkind. "Odina's got her eyes on you, too. There's something… different about you, Raven. Something powerful. It's in your blood."

Raven backed away slightly, her confusion only deepening. "Powerful? I don't feel powerful. I'm just—"

"Just like all of us," Jace finished for her. "Trying to figure it out."

The silence stretched between them, thick and heavy. Raven wasn't sure if she trusted him, but there was something about Jace—his calm demeanor, the way he seemed to understand more than he was letting on—that made her feel like maybe, just maybe, he could help.

"I don't belong here," Raven said quietly, her voice faltering.

Jace looked at her, his expression unreadable. "Maybe you don't. But for now, this is where you are. And it might be better for you to stay here—at least until you understand what's going on."

Raven met his gaze, unsure of what to make of him or his words. There was so much she didn't understand. So much she needed to figure out.

"Why are you helping me?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Jace took a long pause before answering, his blue eyes seeming to pierce into her very soul. "Because I think you might be the key to all of this. Whatever 'this' is."

Meanwhile, at the Cabin,

Karen paced the small cabin, her worry growing with each passing hour. Raven was independent, but she always returned. The eerie silence that night was suffocating.

Karen had searched the nearby woods, but there was no trace of her daughter. Raven had been restless for weeks, her gaze often drawn to the moon as if it held answers. Deep down, Karen knew something was different about her, though she couldn't explain it.

A sharp knock at the door broke her thoughts. Karen rushed to open it, hoping to see Raven—but instead, a dark-haired woman with piercing eyes stood there.

"I'm looking for Raven Steele," the woman said, her tone calm but commanding.

Karen's heart raced. "You know her?"

"I know more than you realize," the woman replied. "We need to talk—your daughter's safety depends on it."