Chapter 2: The Pull of the Moon

Kael crouched among the pines, the scent of frost and damp earth sharp in his lungs. The ridge was quiet now, the woman's flashlight beam extinguished, her silhouette gone from the observatory window. He'd felt her eyes on him—human eyes, fragile and unseeing in the dark, yet they'd pierced him like claws. His chest still thrummed with the echo of his howl, a sound he hadn't meant to loose, but the moon had demanded it, and he was nothing if not its servant.He shifted his weight, claws sinking into the soil, and shook his head to clear the fog of her presence. The beast in him was restless, pacing the cage of his ribs, its golden eyes mirrored in his own. Ten years he'd roamed these wilds, a rogue cast out from the pack, and never once had the bond stirred. Not through blood-soaked battles, not under the fullest moons when the call to mate was strongest. He'd thought it dead, buried with his honor, but tonight it had woken—sharp, insistent, and tied to her.The woman in the dome. He didn't know her name, didn't need to. Her scent had hit him first, carried on the wind as he'd hunted along the ridge—a mix of coffee, ink, and something softer, like starlight on snow. It wasn't a wolf's scent, not even close, but it had snagged him all the same, pulling him from the shadows to stand exposed under her gaze. Foolish. Reckless. He'd spent a decade hiding from Darius's hunters, blending into the forest like a ghost, and now he'd let a human see him. Worse, he'd wanted her to.He rose, his wolf form towering over the underbrush, and padded deeper into the trees. The moonlight filtered through the canopy, dappling his black fur, and he let it guide him, a silver thread woven into his blood. The moon was his master, his curse, the tether that kept him alive when everything else had crumbled. But tonight, it felt different—off-kilter, just like the woman's machines seemed to sense. He'd noticed it too, a subtle shift in the sky, a tremor in the rhythm of his bones. Something was coming, and she was part of it.Kael stopped at a stream, its surface a mirror of the gibbous moon, and lowered his head to drink. The water was cold, biting, but it steadied him. He needed clarity, not the chaos she'd sparked. He closed his eyes, willing the beast to retreat, and felt the shift begin—a ripple of heat and pain... pain, always pain, as bones snapped and reformed, fur receding into skin, claws retracting into blunt nails. When it was done, he knelt by the stream, human again, naked and shivering, his breath clouding in the night air.He ran a hand through his hair—black as his fur, tangled from weeks without a blade—and stared at his reflection. A man stared back, broad-shouldered, scarred, his face all hard angles and shadowed eyes. Thirty-five years old, though he felt older, worn by a life of running, fighting, surviving. The golden irises marked him as alpha, a birthright he'd once wielded with pride, now a reminder of everything he'd lost.The mate bond pulsed again, a tug beneath his sternum, and he growled, slamming a fist into the water. Ripples shattered his image, but not the feeling. It was her—had to be. No wolf, no packmate, had ever called to him like this. But a human? Impossible. The Lunar Covenant forbade it, an ancient law etched into the marrow of his kind. Wolves mated wolves, alphas chose strength, and rogues like him didn't choose at all. Yet here he was, tethered to a woman who didn't even know what he was.He stood, water dripping from his skin, and retrieved his clothes from a hollowed log—jeans, a flannel shirt, boots worn thin at the soles. Dressing grounded him, a ritual to anchor the man over the beast, but it couldn't silence the bond. It whispered her face: pale skin, wide hazel eyes behind those glasses, hair spilling from a messy knot. She'd looked at him not with fear, but with wonder, a scientist's curiosity that made her dangerous in ways she couldn't fathom.Kael paced the bank, his boots crunching on pine needles, and tried to reason it out. Maybe it wasn't the bond. Maybe it was the moon's shift, some trick of Selene's light twisting his instincts. He'd seen stranger things—curses that turned wolves mad, omens in the stars—but none felt like this. This was personal, a thread knotted around his soul, and every step away from the ridge tightened it.He should leave. Pack up his camp, head north where the trees grew thicker and the humans scarcer. Forget her, forget the howl he'd let slip. But the thought of running twisted his gut, a coward's choice he'd made too many times. He'd fled the pack when Darius took the throne, when the blood of his kin stained the snow, and he'd been running ever since. No more. Not from this.The wind shifted, carrying her scent again, faint but unmistakable. He turned toward the ridge, the observatory a dark silhouette against the sky. She was still there, probably bent over her machines, chasing the same anomaly he'd felt in his marrow. He wondered what she'd seen through that telescope—him», maybe, or something bigger. The moon's drift wasn't natural; he knew it in his gut, the way a wolf knows a storm before the clouds gather. And if she was tracking it too, their paths were already tangled, bond or not.Kael's hands clenched, nails digging into his palms. He could go to her, demand answers, see if she felt it too—this pull, this fire. But what then? Tell her he was a monster, a beast born of moonlight and rage? She'd run, or worse, she'd fight, and he'd seen the steel in her eyes. No, he'd watch, wait, learn who she was and why the moon had chosen her. If it was a mistake, he'd sever it himself, tear the bond out like a rotten tooth. If it wasn't… he didn't dare finish the thought.A twig snapped behind him, and he whirled, senses flaring. The forest was still, but the air carried a new scent—wolf, faint and foreign, not his pack's. Darius's scouts, maybe, or another rogue sniffing too close. His lips peeled back in a snarl, the beast rising, but the sound didn't repeat. He waited, every muscle coiled, until the wind swept the scent away. A warning, then, or a ghost of paranoia. Either way, he wasn't alone out here.He glanced back at the observatory, its dome glinting under the moon. She wasn't alone either, not anymore. Whatever this was—bond, curse, or cosmic joke—it had started, and Kael knew better than to defy fate. He'd fought it once and lost everything. This time, he'd face it head-on, even if it tore him apart.The moon hung higher now, its light colder, and he felt its pull as surely as he felt hers. Two forces, two mysteries, and him caught between them. He took a step toward the ridge, then another, the beast in him growling approval. He wouldn't approach her—not yet—but he'd stay close, shadow her steps, guard her from whatever hunted in the dark. Because if she was his mate, human or not, nothing would take her from him. Not Darius, not the moon, not even the gods themselves.Kael melted back into the trees, his form blurring as the shift took him again. Fur sprouted, claws extended, and the wolf emerged, golden eyes fixed on the ridge. The night was young, the hunt begun, and somewhere in that dome, a woman held the key to it all—whether she knew it or not.