Chapter 3 The Weight of the Moon

The night deepened, the air thick with whispers and unease.

Azriel stood alone beneath the ancient oak where Valencia had disappeared. The festival had ended, but the echo of what had transpired still clung to the air. The firelight no longer held warmth-only shadows stretching long and dark across the clearing.

His hands curled into fists. The curse was getting stronger. That much was clear.

And now, they all knew it.

His pack. His people. The wolves who looked to him for strength had seen him struggle against something they couldn't understand. He had seen it in their eyes-their respect wavering, fear tightening its grip.

He ground his teeth. Fear was dangerous. Fear could turn into doubt. And doubt... doubt could destroy an Alpha.

The crunch of footsteps on dried leaves pulled him from his thoughts. He didn't need to turn to know who it was.

Lucan.

The Beta strode up beside him, arms crossed. "You should have gone after her."

Azriel didn't respond.

Lucan exhaled sharply, rubbing a hand over his face. "You're really going to ignore this?"

"No," Azriel muttered, his jaw tight. "But I won't chase her either."

Lucan scoffed. "You think this is a game? She's your mate."

The word sent a jolt through Azriel's chest.

Mate.

His wolf stirred restlessly, aching to run after her, to claim what was his. But the rational part of him-what little of it remained-held firm.

"She hasn't accepted the bond," he said, his voice even.

"And she hasn't rejected it," Lucan shot back. "You know what that means."

Azriel did.

It meant indecision. It meant hesitation. It meant that deep down, Valencia wasn't sure if she wanted to be bound to him.

And after tonight, he couldn't blame her.

Lucan sighed, shifting his weight. "Look, I know you're used to wolves obeying without question. You're their Alpha. But this? This is different."

Azriel finally turned to meet his Beta's gaze. "You think I don't know that?"

Lucan held his stare. "I think you're scared."

A growl rumbled in Azriel's chest. "Watch your tongue."

Lucan didn't flinch. He never did. "You can growl at me all you want, but you can't growl away the truth. Valencia is the one wolf who can see you-curse and all. And I think that terrifies you."

Azriel's muscles tensed. It did.

Because if Valencia truly saw him-the real him-what would she do?

Would she run?

Would she stay?

Or worse... would she become another victim of the darkness that clung to his soul?

The thought sent ice through his veins.

Lucan sighed. "Go get some rest. You'll need it."

Azriel didn't move as Lucan walked away, disappearing into the trees. The weight of the night pressed down on him, heavier than before.

He looked up at the moon, its glow soft yet relentless.

How long until it demanded more of him?

Until the curse took what little control he had left?

---

The Dream

The darkness was suffocating.

Azriel stood in the center of a void, the shadows swirling like a living thing. He could feel them brushing against his skin, seeping into his bones.

"You cannot resist forever."

The voice slithered through the blackness, low and insidious.

Azriel's breath came in ragged pants. He knew this place. He had been here before-trapped in his own mind, tangled in the web of his curse.

A figure emerged from the darkness.

It was him.

Or rather, the twisted reflection of him. Eyes black as midnight. Veins darkened with corruption. A wicked, knowing smirk curling his lips.

"You are fighting a losing battle, Azriel." The other him stepped closer. "Why resist what you were meant to become?"

Azriel bared his teeth. "I am not you."

The shadow laughed. Laughed.

"Not yet."

Then, the world shattered.

Azriel jolted awake, his heart hammering. His body was slick with sweat, his breaths ragged. The lingering presence of the dream coiled around his mind, whispering, waiting.

He ran a hand over his face, trying to shake the chill in his blood.

This was getting worse.

The curse was no longer content with lurking in the background.

It was pushing.

And if he wasn't careful, he would break.