CHAPTER 5: The Red Moon Hunt

I hadn't seen him since the throne room.

Three full days.

Three nights of silence, meals delivered through the door, and a maid who wouldn't look me in the eye. No one spoke to me. No one touched me. It should've been a reprieve.

But the absence felt worse than the cruelty.

Like he was letting me wonder what form the next punishment would take.

When the knock came at twilight, I didn't answer.

The door opened anyway.

Kael stepped inside without a word.

He didn't look tired. Or angry. Or anything at all.

Just… composed.

Which was always worse.

He dropped a bundle of red silk onto the bed.

It landed like a warning.

I looked at it, then back at him.

He didn't explain.

He didn't need to.

"What is it?" I asked softly.

Kael finally looked at me — those silver-flecked eyes blank as winter.

"Your offering dress."

My mouth went dry. "Offering for what?"

He stepped closer, slow and deliberate, until he was in front of me.

"The Red Moon rises tonight," he said. "And you will run."

I shook my head once. "No."

Kael's hand shot out. Not to strike.

To grip my chin, fingers tight against my jaw.

"You will run," he repeated, quieter. "And if you want to survive, you'll run fast."

My breath caught.

"Explain," I rasped.

He released me.

Walked to the window.

Looked up through the bars.

"The Red Moon Hunt is an old rite," he said. "One we've honored since before the Kingdoms were carved. The females run. The males chase. If they catch you—"

His gaze flicked back to me.

"They claim you. In the dark. On the ground. With teeth."

I stood frozen.

"No."

He smirked.

"It's symbolic," he said. "Usually."

I stared at the red slip on the bed. It was barely fabric — more shadow than cloth. Backless. Sleeveless. No undergarments.

"You expect me to—"

"I expect obedience."

He walked toward me again, slowly, until I could smell the leather on his coat. The faint wild scent of his skin.

"And I've told the others not to touch you."

He leaned down, breath grazing my throat.

"But I didn't tell them to let you go."

My stomach clenched.

His lips brushed the silver collar.

"You'll run," he whispered. "Barefoot. Marked. Wet, if I have my way."

I flinched.

He stepped back.

"Dress. You have one hour."

Then he left.

And the moment the door clicked shut, I collapsed onto the bed, fists clenched.

Not because of fear.

Because part of me — the part I hated — felt heat blooming between my thighs.

Not because I wanted it.

But because he did.

And my body had already started to obey.

The sky bled crimson.

A swollen moon hung low and full over the trees, its light soaking the forest in hues of blood and shadow. The scent of pine and ash filled my lungs. Torches lined the edge of the clearing, their flames crackling in rhythm like the beat of a war drum.

I stood barefoot on soft, damp earth.

Wearing nothing but the red silk slip.

It clung to me — weightless and sheer, the color of fresh blood. It showed everything. The swell of my breasts, the curve of my hips, the tremble in my thighs.

I was alone at the forest's edge.

Behind me, the pack gathered in a wide semicircle — wolves in human skin, masked in bone and leather, their faces unreadable. Some stood tall. Others knelt. But every eye watched me.

Hunted. Judged.

Owned.

A shiver crawled down my spine.

I felt naked. Not just physically — stripped, soul-deep, like I was already being touched by hands that hadn't reached me yet.

Then I saw him.

Kael.

He stood at the head of the semicircle, arms crossed over his chest, mask hanging loosely at his side. Unlike the others, he didn't wear ceremonial armor. Just a simple dark shirt, sleeves rolled to the elbows. Power radiated off him like heat.

He didn't smile.

He didn't speak.

He just watched me with those wolf eyes — and the same hunger I'd seen in the throne room… and the bed.

A low howl rang out behind me.

Then another.

Then five.

I turned toward the trees, pulse racing.

The woods yawned before me — black trunks and crimson shadows, a maze of thorns and moonlight.

A hand grabbed my wrist.

I jerked.

Kael.

He stepped close, his breath hot at my temple.

"Run."

My knees locked.

"Run, Aria. Before they decide you want to be caught."

He released me.

I didn't look back.

I ran.

Branches whipped my skin. Mud clung to my feet. The dress caught on a low thorn and tore high up my thigh. I didn't stop.

My lungs burned.

My heartbeat roared in my ears.

And then—

The howling began again.

Louder.

Closer.

Feral.

I wasn't just running from wolves.

I was being hunted.

And if they caught me…

If Kael caught me…

I didn't know which fate would be worse.

But I ran anyway.

Because every part of me knew:

This forest wanted to see me fall.

The forest closed in around me like a mouth with no end.

Leaves tore beneath my feet. Twigs snapped against my calves. My breath dragged ragged and hot through my chest as I dodged low branches, ducked past hanging moss, and pushed my aching legs deeper into the dark.

The dress clung to my thighs like a second skin, soaked with sweat and torn high on one side. My hair stuck to the back of my neck. The cold air stung my skin—but it wasn't enough to cool the heat spreading between my legs from exertion, fear, and that sick, traitorous memory of Kael's voice in my ear.

"Run, Aria."

I could still hear him.

Behind me, the howls rose again—closer this time. Deep. Snarling. Laughing.

They weren't looking for a kill.

They were looking for a claim.

I gritted my teeth and pushed harder, forcing my bare feet over rocks and roots, ignoring the sting of scratches and the ache in my lungs. Every part of me screamed for relief—but I couldn't shift. Kael's command rang louder than instinct.

Do not shift.

The wolf inside me growled.

She wanted out.

She wanted to protect us.

But I bit her down. Swallowed her protest. Obeyed.

Even as blood trickled from my ankle, even as thorns bit into my arm and the shadows grew thicker, I obeyed.

Then—

A sound.

Behind me.

Too close.

Too fast.

I twisted mid-step, ducking under a branch—and that hesitation cost me.

A weight slammed into my back.

Air ripped from my lungs.