The Bloodmark of Velaris

The moon hung heavy and golden in the skies above Velaris, casting its silver gaze upon the sprawling forest that bordered the territories of the Nightfang Pack. Beneath its eerie light, shadows danced between the trees - silent, swift, and watching. But none were more alone than the girl with fire in her blood and questions in her heart.

Seraphina crouched low behind a fallen log, her chest heaving from the chase. The scent of wolves-real wolves-still lingered behind her. She had wandered too far from Emberclaw's fringe, the foster pack that barely tolerated her existence. For years she had lived there in near exile, taken in out of obligation by a dying omega who claimed she'd found her crying as an infant near the river's edge.

That woman had died years ago, and Seraphina never truly belonged anywhere since.

Tonight, the dreams returned. Again. Always the same: wolves with glowing eyes, a throne wrapped in shadow and light, and her own hands drenched in blood and fire, reaching toward the moon. She had to run. She always ran when they came.

But tonight felt different. There was a pressure in her chest she couldn't explain. A heat pulsing beneath her skin, as if something ancient stirred within her bones.

A low growl shattered the silence.

Seraphina's eyes snapped up. A massive wolf, black as night with silver streaks across its flank, stood in the clearing ahead. Its eyes locked onto hers-intelligent, assessing.

She scrambled back.

Then she heard it: boots.

More shadows broke through the brush. Warriors. Werewolves in their human forms, clothed in black leathers, swords at their backs.

"She's just a girl," one of them said.

"Wait..." another muttered, "Her scent... it's not Emberclaw."

Seraphina's vision blurred. Her legs buckled from exhaustion and fear. As she fell to the forest floor, the last thing she saw was the black wolf stepping forward, its eyes glowing with an emotion she couldn't name.

Kael Draven stood silently as the girl was carried into his pack's infirmary. His wolf, Ashen, paced restlessly beneath his skin, agitated and intrigued in equal measure. When he had seen her face in the clearing, time itself had seemed to still. Not from attraction - but from recognition.

He had dreamt of her.

For weeks, a strange girl with burning hair and haunted eyes had plagued his sleep. Always standing at the mouth of a flaming forest. Always calling his name without speaking.

Kael didn't believe in omens. He believed in strategy, bloodlines, and control.

But now? He wasn't so sure.

"She's waking," a healer announced.

Kael entered the room slowly. Seraphina sat up, eyes wild, muscles tense.

"Where am I?" she asked.

Kael didn't answer immediately. He stepped into the moonlight that streamed through the high window. The moment it touched Seraphina's skin, something incredible happened.

A mark appeared.

It glowed across her collarbone - a crescent moon entwined with twin flames, radiant and pulsing.

The room fell silent.

"Goddess," someone whispered.

Lyra Morwen stood in her chamber, eyes narrowed as she scryed into the black mirror on her wall. The vision shimmered before her Seraphina lying in the healer's bed, the Bloodmark glowing under the moonlight.

Her blood ran cold.

No.

It couldn't be. She was the Luna. She had earned it through blood, sacrifice, and her mother's cunning. She had taken the place of the real Luna all those years ago, aided by the midwife who had switched the babes.

And now this impostor had returned.

Lyra slammed her fist into the mirror. A crack split the glass.

She would kill her. Again, if necessary.

That night, Seraphina wandered the quiet courtyard of the Nightfang Keep. Something about this place tugged at her soul. The stone arches, the carved wolves... everything felt eerily familiar.

Kael found her beneath the sacred tree, the Heartroot, where the first Alpha had once pledged himself to the Moon Goddess. He approached quietly, stopping a few steps behind her.

"You should be resting," he said.

Seraphina turned, startled. "I couldn't sleep."

"Because of the mark?"

"...Because of everything."

They stood in silence for a moment. Then, Kael stepped closer. "You said you were raised in Emberclaw?"

Seraphina nodded. "But I don't belong there. I never did. My dreams... they tell me I come from somewhere else."

Kael's gaze sharpened. "Dreams?"

She hesitated. Then: "Do you believe in prophecy, Alpha?"

Kael's jaw clenched. "I never used to."

The wind stirred. Suddenly, both of them stiffened. A warm, invisible thread tugged between their chests - a pulse of energy that vibrated like a distant howl. Kael inhaled sharply. So did Seraphina.

Their eyes locked.

The bond had stirred.

But before either could speak, Seraphina cried out in pain. She dropped to her knees, clutching her chest. Her skin blistered.

"Wolfsbane," Kael hissed, rushing to her.

From the shadows, Lyra watched her blade soaked in the plant's deadly extract, her hand trembling from the failed strike. She'd thrown it with precision. And yet... something had stopped the poison from reaching her heart.

Above them, the clouds parted.

A beam of moonlight bathed Seraphina's body.

The wounds healed instantly.

Lyra stumbled back in horror.

The Moon Goddess had intervened.

That night, the high priestess of the Temple of the Moon awoke from a centuries-old dream. The prophecy had begun.

When blood and fire bear the mark of light,

And the stolen throne stands in shadow's blight,

The wolves shall tremble, the truth shall roar,

For the true Luna returns to restore the lore.