Chapter 4 The Moon's Secret and The Prophecy

Lyorine's question lingered in the air, heavy and unrelenting. Zach's jaw tightened, his gaze hardening. He turned away from her, his hands balling into fists at his sides as he stared into the darkness beyond the clearing.

"I don't have the luxury of worrying about that," he said finally, his voice cold and clipped. "What destroys me doesn't matter as long as the pack survives."

Lyorine flinched slightly at his words, but she didn't look away. There was something about the way he carried himself-a mixture of determination and despair-that made her heart ache in a way she couldn't explain.

"You can't lead them if you're broken," she said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. "You think sacrificing yourself will solve everything, but it won't. It'll destroy more than just you."

Zach let out a sharp breath, turning to face her. His eyes burned with a mixture of anger and exhaustion. "And what do you expect me to do? Just sit here and wait while everything falls apart? I don't have a choice, Lyorine. The curse, the pack, the prophecy-none of it gives me a choice."

She met his gaze, unflinching. "Maybe you don't see it yet, but there's always a choice. You just don't want to admit it."

Before either of them could say more, the sound of footsteps broke the tension. Marcus appeared at the edge of the clearing, his expression grim.

"Zach," Marcus called out, his voice low but urgent. "We need to talk."

Zach straightened, his Alpha instincts kicking in. He glanced back at Lyorine, his expression unreadable. "Stay here," he told her before walking toward his brother.

Zach followed Marcus into the pack house, where the dim lighting and worn furniture reflected the tension that had been building within the pack for weeks. The moment the door shut behind them, Marcus turned, his frustration evident.

"This is getting out of hand," Marcus said, his voice tight. "The pack doesn't trust her, Zach. Hell, I don't trust her. And now you're telling me you're keeping her here indefinitely?"

Zach's eyes narrowed. "We've been through this already."

"No, we haven't," Marcus shot back. "You keep brushing it off like it doesn't matter, but it does. The pack is scared. They think she's dangerous, and honestly, I don't blame them. She's a witch, Zach. A witch with no memory, no past, and no reason to make us believe she's on our side."

Zach took a step closer, his voice dropping to a dangerous low. "You think I don't know that? You think I'm not aware of what's at stake here?"

"Then prove it," Marcus said, his tone softening slightly. "Stop keeping everyone in the dark. If you want the pack to follow you, you need to stop acting like you're the only one who can carry this burden."

Zach didn't respond immediately. He ran a hand through his hair, his frustration boiling just beneath the surface. "I don't have answers, Marcus. Not yet. But I will. And until then, I need you to trust me."

Marcus hesitated, his expression conflicted. Finally, he nodded, though his unease was still evident. "Fine. But don't wait too long, Zach. The pack's loyalty only goes so far."

Lyorine waited until she was sure Zach and Marcus were gone before slipping into the house. She had no intention of staying put like Zach had told her to. Something about the way he talked about the curse, the prophecy-it made her uneasy. She needed answers, even if she had to find them herself.

The house was quiet, the faint creak of the floorboards beneath her feet the only sound as she made her way through the dimly lit rooms. Her gaze swept over the shelves lining the walls, filled with books, trinkets, and artifacts that looked far older than they should.

One book in particular caught her eye. Its leather cover was cracked and worn, the edges frayed from years of use. The title, written in faded gold lettering, read: The Light and Darkness Beneath the Moon.

Lyorine hesitated for only a moment before pulling it from the shelf. She opened it carefully, the pages brittle beneath her fingertips. The text was written in an ancient script she didn't recognize, but the illustrations told a story she couldn't ignore.

One image in particular made her breath catch. It depicted a wolf and a woman standing beneath a full moon, their figures surrounded by swirling shadows and light. Beneath them, in bold, jagged lettering, were the words: Bound by fate, divided by choice.

"What is this?" she whispered to herself, her fingers tracing the lines of the illustration.

The sound of a door opening made her jump. She turned quickly, clutching the book to her chest as Zach entered the room. His eyes immediately landed on the book in her hands, his expression darkening.

"What are you doing?" he demanded, his voice low and dangerous.

Lyorine straightened, refusing to back down. "Looking for answers. You're not the only one who wants to understand what's going on."

Zach's jaw tightened as he stepped closer, his presence imposing. "That book isn't for you."

"Why not?" she challenged, holding it up. "Because it talks about the prophecy? About whatever it is that's tying us together?"

"You don't understand-" he started, but she cut him off.

"Then make me understand," she said, her voice rising. "You keep acting like this is your burden alone, but it's not. I'm part of this too, whether you like it or not."

Zach stared at her, his expression unreadable. For a moment, it looked like he might argue, but then he sighed, the fight draining out of him.

"Fine," he said finally. "But if you're going to read that, you need to know the truth."

The two of them sat at the worn wooden table in the center of the room, the book open between them. Zach pointed to the illustration of the wolf and the woman beneath the moon.

"This is the prophecy," he said. "It's been passed down through my family for generations. It talks about two forces-light and darkness-bound together by the moon. Together, they're supposed to bring balance to the supernatural world. But if they fail..."

He let the words hang, the weight of them heavy in the air.

"What happens if they fail?" Lyorine asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Zach's gaze met hers, his eyes filled with a mixture of anger and fear. "Chaos. Death. The end of everything we know."

Lyorine leaned back in her chair, her mind racing. "And you think... you think we're the ones in the prophecy?"

"I don't think," Zach said grimly. "I know."

The room fell silent as the weight of his words settled over them. Lyorine's mind was a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. She didn't want to believe it, but deep down, she knew he was right. The connection she felt to him, the strange pull that had brought her here-it all pointed to the same conclusion.

"What do we do now?" she asked finally, her voice trembling slightly.

Zach didn't answer right away. He stared at the book, his expression hard. "We figure out what the prophecy means. And then we stop whatever's coming."

"And if we can't?" she asked, her voice barely audible.

Zach's gaze flicked to hers, his jaw tightening. "We don't have that option."