The word "ignite" echoed in my chest long after Lucian said it.
I sat across from him now in a room I hadn't seen before—what looked like an old council chamber. Stone walls. Dusty banners. And a massive table, carved with the sigil of the pack: a wolf's head howling beneath a crescent moon.
He hadn't spoken since we entered.
Neither had I.
Finally, he broke the silence.
"They weren't supposed to find you yet."
"You've said that," I said quietly. "What does it mean?"
Lucian's eyes, normally molten silver, darkened like storm clouds.
"There are factions among us," he began. "Some loyal to the moon's order—others loyal to something much older. The ones who came to you tonight… they are called the Hollowed. Exiled wolves. Forgotten blood. They believe you're the key to restoring what was lost."
"And what was lost?" I asked.
Lucian's jaw tightened. "The balance."
I waited.
"When the Moonborn were still known, they had power over both the living and the shadowed. They didn't shift with the moon—they carried it in their blood. The council feared them. So they were… erased."
I blinked. "Erased?"
"Hunted. Destroyed. Bound by a law that should have wiped out every last one. But something went wrong. A few survived. Hidden. Sleeping. Waiting."
I took a shaky breath. "And I'm one of them."
"Half of one," he corrected. "Your human side kept you dormant. Until I—"
He stopped himself.
I finished for him. "Until you bit me."
Lucian nodded once. "It wasn't supposed to happen like that."
"But it did." I stood, hands clenched. "So now what? I wait for ghost wolves to come whisper riddles and warnings while I turn into some kind of ancient freak?"
He stepped toward me. "You're not a freak."
I met his gaze. "Then what am I?"
Silence.
Then:
"You're something I swore I'd never be bound to. And something I can't let go of now."
His voice cracked on the last words.
My breath caught in my throat. "Bound?"
Lucian hesitated, then said quietly, "My bite didn't just awaken your bloodline. It linked us. Soul to soul."
"No," I said, shaking my head. "No, that's not how this works. I never asked for this. I never asked for any of this!"
"I know," he said, voice soft. "But fate rarely asks."
The door burst open.
Maris stormed in, her face pale. "You need to see this."
We followed her through the mansion, out into the courtyard.
A body lay there.
Torn. Scorched.
A messenger wolf from another pack.
Lucian knelt beside it, fingers brushing the edge of a charred scroll still clutched in the messenger's claws.
He opened it, eyes scanning quickly. His jaw clenched.
"What is it?" I asked.
He looked at me.
"It's begun."
"What has?"
He handed me the scroll.
> *To the Alpha of the Broken Moon,
We know the girl lives.
The Hollowed walk again.
She is claimed by shadow.
Deny it, and there will be war.*
– The Crimson Pack
I looked up, blood draining from my face. "They know."
Lucian stood, his body a wall of fury and fear. "They won't take you."
"Then what happens now?"
His answer was immediate. Final.
"We prepare for war."