MARK OF THE MOON

The forest has always spoken to me in ways no voice ever could. It creaks and groans and whispers secrets older than language. Tonight it was restless, the wind heavy with tension and old magic. My instincts were sharp as blades. The moon was swelling and I could feel it pulling at my bones, calling the beast to the surface.

Something was coming.

Something dark.

I could feel it in the marrow of my spine.

Back at the stronghold Aria was still asleep but her dreams were loud. I could hear her breathing shift from across the room, her heart pounding like a war drum in her chest. I sat by the window in my human form, half-shadow half-Alpha, watching the night for signs of movement. My senses stayed locked on her heartbeat like a tether. She had become my center and I didn't even realize it was happening until it was too late.

It's dangerous when someone becomes your reason to fight. More dangerous when they become your reason to live.

Because it gives your enemy a way in.

Jarek's injuries were healing slower than usual. The Wraithguard had used poison. We'd lost two more wolves during the withdrawal from the chapel. One of them was a pup. Barely sixteen moons into his first shift. His name was Taron. I carved it into the Stone of Mourning myself.

We buried our dead under the roots of the Old Pine. That tree has seen the rise and fall of ten Alphas before me. It would bear witness to more, I was sure. But I swore to the bones that no more of my pack would die in vain. The war had changed. It was no longer just about territory. It wasn't even about bloodlines.

It was about her now.

Aria.

She woke up just before dawn, startled like prey sensing a predator nearby. She found me sharpening my blades beside the hearth. Her hair was tangled, eyes rimmed red from tears she hadn't yet allowed to fall. But she was alive.

"You didn't sleep," she said.

"Didn't need to," I replied.

She walked closer, arms crossed over the blanket she wore like armor. Her gaze locked onto the twin blades at my side, forged from silver and obsidian. "Those are for killing vampires."

"Yes."

"You're really going to kill him… the one who did that to me."

I didn't answer right away.

Then I looked her in the eye.

"I'm going to end his entire bloodline."

She swallowed hard but didn't flinch. Brave girl. Even after what she saw.

"I need to know why he didn't kill me," she said. "He looked at me like… like he knew me."

I stood, the tension rising in my shoulders like a coming storm.

"Veyran plays with his food. He marks it. Sometimes he waits days, sometimes weeks. He likes fear. Likes watching it grow inside his prey before he feeds. You're marked now, Aria. Whether you want to be or not."

She looked down at the fading bite on her arm. It was healing faster than normal. Too fast.

"What does it mean," she whispered.

"It means you're not just bait. You're a message."

I didn't say the rest out loud.

It means he knows she matters to me.

That night I summoned the Seer. Her name was Morwen, a witch older than the forest itself, cloaked in rags and shadows. She lived beyond the eastern ridge, in a cave lined with bones and ancient charms. Most wolves feared her. I didn't. I respected her.

She looked at Aria without a word, then touched her forehead with her gnarled fingers.

Her voice was dry like leaves in autumn.

"She carries something old. A bloodline forgotten. There is power in her. Human, yes, but not entirely."

Aria blinked. "What are you talking about?"

Morwen turned to me. "She is the last of the blood of Seraphine. The White Flame. Veyran has hunted that line for centuries. He thinks consuming it will make him unstoppable."

I felt something cold spread in my chest.

"You're sure?"

The Seer nodded once. "He doesn't want her dead, Alpha. He wants her changed. Turned."

Aria gasped.

"No," I growled. "That will not happen."

Morwen leaned closer. "Then mark her."

I stared at her, confused.

"Mark her," she repeated. "Claim her under the law of the Moon. Not just as a protector. As mate."

Aria stepped back, her cheeks flushed.

"What is she saying?" she asked.

I didn't answer her. I couldn't.

Not yet.

Back at the stronghold, Aria sat by the fire, silent. I could feel the weight of the Seer's words pressing down on both of us. I watched her from across the room. The flicker of firelight danced across her face, casting shadows that made her look older, wiser, haunted.

"You're angry," I said.

"I'm confused."

"I get that."

She looked up at me, eyes hard. "Are you going to do it? Mark me? Whatever that means."

I took a breath.

"The mark is ancient. It binds you to the Alpha. Not just in spirit. In blood. It protects you. Makes it law that no wolf or vampire can harm you without declaring war on the pack. But it comes with a cost."

"What cost?"

"You'll be bound to me," I said. "Forever. No escape. No freedom. Even if I die."

She went quiet for a long time.

Then said something I didn't expect.

"Would it hurt?"

"No," I said. "Not physically."

She nodded. Then stood. "If it keeps me safe from him… I'll do it."

I moved fast. Not out of lust or impulse. Out of instinct. My wolf roared inside me, aching for the bond. But I kept control. I drew a small blade from my belt and sliced my palm. Then I offered it to her.

"Take it," I said.

She hesitated, then placed her hand against mine. Blood to blood. Her eyes widened as a golden light flared between our hands, ancient symbols glowing briefly on her wrist. Then it faded.

She stumbled.

I caught her.

"It's done," I said.

But what I didn't say was that it wasn't just a protection ritual.

I had just made her my mate.

Later that night I stood outside, looking up at the sky. The moon was full and bright, a silver eye watching the world in silence. My thoughts were a storm. I could feel her inside me now. Her heartbeat echoed in my chest. Her fear, her confusion, her sadness. All of it mine to carry now.

Jarek joined me, his wounds mostly healed.

"You did it," he said. "You marked her."

"Yes."

"You're sure that's wise?"

"No," I admitted. "But I had no choice."

He nodded slowly. "Then we protect her. With everything we've got."

I looked at him, my oldest friend, my most trusted warrior.

"I'm not losing her, Jarek. I've lost too much already."

"We all have," he said.

And then the howls came.

Low. Distant. Wrong.

Not ours.

A warning.

They had crossed the river.

By dawn we were moving. The pack was spread thin but we had numbers. I led the charge north, toward the riverbanks. That's where Veyran's scouts were reported. I needed proof. And vengeance.

We found the bodies first.

Two human hunters, drained dry and pinned to trees like trophies. One of them had a crucifix shoved into his throat. As if to mock the faith they died clinging to.

I shifted on sight.

My claws dug into the earth, my breath steaming with rage. Jarek and the others followed. We moved as one, black shapes in the mist, silent and deadly.

Then we saw him.

A lone vampire.

Young. Arrogant. Blood still wet on his lips.

He turned too late.

I was on him in a blink, slamming him into the snow, my jaws inches from his throat.

He laughed.

"You're too late, wolf. She's already his."

I growled. "Not yet."

Then I tore him apart.

When I returned, Aria was waiting for me outside the stronghold. She looked worried, and even though she tried to hide it, I could feel it in my soul.

"You're hurt," she said.

"It's not my blood."

She touched my cheek anyway. Soft. Careful. Like I might break.

"I don't want to be a weakness," she said. "If I'm putting you all in danger—"

"You're not," I interrupted. "You're not the reason this war started. But you might be the reason it ends."

She didn't understand what I meant. Not yet. But she would.

That night I dreamed of fire.

Of a throne made of bones. A crown dripping with blood. And a voice—Veyran's voice—whispering her name like a curse.

Aria.

When I woke, she was beside me. She had moved during the night, curled close, breathing slow and steady. My arm was around her without me knowing.

The bond was already changing us.

I looked down at her and made a vow.

No matter what darkness was coming

No matter what monsters crawled from the shadows

No matter what price I had to pay

I would protect her.

Even if it meant becoming the monster they feared.