Moonblood Heir

The sky bled crimson over the jagged peaks of Silverridge Valley as the blood moon rose for the first time in two decades. Clouds twisted like restless spirits around its edges. Trees rustled, not from wind, but from something else-something old and waking.

Elara knew what tonight meant. She had been reminded every day for the past eighteen years.

"You were born under that cursed moon," her aunt hissed that morning, slamming a bowl of porridge onto the wooden table. "Don't show your face after dusk. Stay in the cellar."

That was her life in Stonehollow. Hide your face. Stay quiet. Pretend you're not a wolf.

But Elara was a wolf-or was supposed to be. The mark on her shoulder, the strange warmth in her blood during full moons, and the way her senses sharpened with emotion all pointed to it. Yet she had never shifted. Not once.

Most wolves shifted by thirteen. Some delayed until fifteen. Elara passed her eighteenth birthday with nothing but an ache in her bones and whispers behind her back.

"Moonblood," they called her. "Half-wolf. Bad omen."

But tonight, she wasn't hiding.

Elara stood at the edge of the forest, her feet bare in the frost-kissed grass, her breath visible in the cold air. Behind her, the village slept. The elders had warned of rogue wolves running wild during blood moons. They called it the Awakening Night. They said the cursed ones rose then-the old blood, the ancient wolves, the ones the gods themselves had tried to bury.

She stepped into the forest.

Every branch that cracked under her feet felt like defiance. Every rustle, every owl's cry, every cold gust that tugged at her cloak whispered, go back. But she didn't.

The forest had always called to her. As a child, she'd snuck here to feel the earth hum beneath her skin. To hear wolves howling at moons she could never run under. Tonight, something was different. The trees felt alive. The wind pulsed like a heartbeat.

Deeper in, where the trees grew close and moss hung like old curtains, she found the clearing. She had dreamed of it countless times-a circle of stone pillars around a black pool that reflected no stars.

But it wasn't empty.

A man stood at the edge of the pool, his back to her, shirtless despite the cold. His shoulders were broad, his body inked with markings that looked ancient and ceremonial. Moonlight hit his silver hair, and something about him made her pulse quicken.

Then he turned.

His eyes weren't human. Nor were they wolf. They glowed, like twin moons-one full, the other cracked.

"You came," he said, voice low and rough.

"I didn't come for you," Elara said, straightening. "I came for answers."

The man stepped closer. "The blood moon brings truth. And blood. Which one do you want?"

She didn't flinch. "Who are you?"

"I am Fenric, Alpha of the Forsaken Pack. The last of the cursed bloodline. Until now."

Elara's heart thudded. "Until...?"

"You."

She took a step back.

Fenric's gaze dropped to her collarbone, where her pendant glowed faintly red. She hadn't even noticed until now. A stone her mother gave her before vanishing. She used to think it was just pretty. Now it burned like fire against her skin.

"You are Moonblood," Fenric said. "You are the heir."

"I'm not part of your pack," she said. "I'm not part of any pack. I've never shifted. I can't."

"That's what they told you," he said. "They lied."

He raised a hand, palm outward. Symbols shimmered on his skin.

Elara hesitated.

Then she touched his hand.

Pain tore through her like lightning. She screamed and dropped to her knees. The forest roared to life-birds shrieked, wolves howled, trees groaned. Her bones felt like they were rearranging. Her vision blurred. Her skin pulsed.

And just as suddenly, it stopped.

She opened her eyes. Fenric stood over her, his gaze unreadable.

"You are not cursed," he said. "You were bound."

Elara gasped, struggling to breathe. "What did you do to me?"

"I didn't do anything. The bond recognized you."

"The what?"

"You are Moonblood-born once in a thousand years. Your blood is older than the packs. The elders sealed your shift to protect their power. They feared what you would become."

Elara stood, fists clenched. "I'm just a girl."

"No," Fenric said. "You are the storm they tried to silence. And they will come for you now."

Something moved in the trees-fast, heavy, deliberate.

Elara turned. Shadows circled the clearing.

"Rogues?" she asked, heart racing.

"No," Fenric said. "Hunters."

From the darkness stepped men in black armor, marked with silver wolves. Their crossbows gleamed under the moonlight.

"Elara of Stonehollow, one shouted, voice amplified with magic. "You are under arrest for contact with the exiled and for unlawful trespass into sacred forest grounds."

Elara's mind spun. She hadn't even known such laws existed.

Fenric growled. "You can't go with them."

"I don't have a choice," she said. "I'm not a wolf."

He moved so fast she barely saw it. In a blur of silver and shadows, Fenric stood between her and the hunters.

"You touch her," he growled, "and you declare war."

The lead hunter narrowed his eyes. "That war ended long ago. Your kind was erased."

"We survived," Fenric said, voice low. "And we remember."

The hunters raised their weapons.

Elara's pulse exploded. Something inside her cracked-something buried deep. Her skin burned, her muscles trembled, her vision warped.

Then came the sound.

A heartbeat. But not hers.

It was louder. Stronger. Deeper.

Thump-thump.

The pool behind her began to ripple. The red moon above pulsed in the sky like a living eye.

And then she screamed.

Not in fear.

In transformation.

Pain danced through her limbs, and this time, she did not fall. She rose. Her spine arched, her fingers extended into claws, her senses sharpened beyond anything she'd known.

She shifted.

It was not like the stories. It was not clean or gentle. It was raw. Violent. Beautiful. Her bones didn't break-they reclaimed.

Where once stood a girl, now crouched a silver wolf with eyes that mirrored the blood moon.

The hunters froze.

Fenric bowed his head."You are awakened," he said.

Elara growled, the sound echoing through the trees like thunder.

And in that moment, she knew everything had changed.

She wasn't just a wolf.

She was their reckoning.