chapter 5 whispers of the moon

Whispers of the Moon:

Elias couldn't stop staring at Lyria. The way the firelight danced across her face, the way her golden eyes held secrets he longed to uncover—it was maddening. Even after everything he had been through, the pain of his transformation, the hunters' attack, the strange visions in his mind, nothing compared to the pull he felt toward her.

And yet, she kept her distance.

Lyria sat on the other side of the fire, her arms wrapped around her knees, lost in thought. She hadn't spoken much since she mentioned Solana's name. The way her voice had trembled haunted Elias.

Finally, he broke the silence.

"Tell me about him," Elias said softly.

Lyria's breath hitched. She didn't look at him right away, but when she did, her expression was unreadable.

"Solana was like you," she said at last. "A human who carried the blood of the Moon."

Elias swallowed. "And you loved him."

A ghost of a smile touched her lips, but it was filled with sadness. "I did."

The fire crackled between them, filling the silence. Then Lyria stood.

"I want to show you something," she said.

---

The Hidden Temple

Lyria led Elias through the darkened forest, past towering trees and winding streams. The further they walked, the thicker the mist became, wrapping around them like ghostly fingers.

Then, suddenly, the trees parted.

Before them stood an ancient temple, hidden beneath a canopy of silver leaves. Moss-covered stone pillars reached toward the sky, and in the center of the ruins, a massive stone altar lay beneath the open moon. Strange symbols glowed faintly along its surface, pulsing like a heartbeat.

Elias felt a strange sense of familiarity. "What is this place?"

Lyria hesitated. "It's called the Temple of the Moon. It's where the bond between wolf and human was first created."

Elias stepped forward, drawn to the altar. His fingers brushed against the stone, and suddenly—

A vision.

He saw a woman, her silver hair flowing like moonlight, standing beneath the altar. Her hands were outstretched, and before her knelt a man—a warrior, his chest bare, his eyes filled with devotion.

The woman leaned down, her lips brushing against his in a kiss that sent waves of power through the temple. The air shimmered, and as their lips parted, the man's body twisted, his form shifting into that of a massive wolf.

A sacred bond.

A love so powerful it transcended flesh.

Elias gasped, stumbling backward.

Lyria caught him. Her hands were firm, steady. "You saw it, didn't you?"

Elias nodded breathlessly. "What was that?"

Lyria met his gaze. "The first devotion. The moment when love and the Moon's power became one."

Her fingers lingered on his arm, and for the first time, she didn't pull away.

Elias didn't think. He reached for her, his hand brushing against her cheek. She shivered at his touch, but she didn't stop him.

"I don't care who I was before," Elias whispered. "I only know what I feel now."

Lyria's eyes darkened. "Elias—"

He kissed her.

For a moment, everything disappeared—the hunters, the war, the danger looming over them. There was only the warmth of her lips, the way she melted against him, the way their souls seemed to intertwine like the Moon and the night sky.

And then—

A sharp growl shattered the moment.

Elias turned just in time to see the wolves emerge from the shadows. But these were not Fenrir's wolves.

These were something else.

Their fur was dark as the abyss, their eyes glowing red like burning embers. A figure stepped forward—a woman clad in black, her face half-hidden by a veil.

Lyria stiffened. "No…"

The woman smiled coldly.

"Hello, sister !