Chapter 4 A Moonlit Revelation

The night air was heavy with the scent of pine and damp earth, the borderlands silent beneath a velvet sky. A silver-hued moon hung low, bathing the world in its pale glow. In the small stone cottage nestled against the edge of the Blackthorne Forest, Aria Wynn couldn't sleep.

Restless, she paced the narrow room, her fingertips brushing the rough stone walls as if seeking answers written in the grain. The dream of the silver-eyed priestess still clung to her skin like cold mist. The phantom words haunted her ears.

"You carry the blood. You carry the choice."

And the feather , the impossibility of it lying on her pillow when she woke , weighed heavier than the thick night air.

But there was something else.

A presence. A subtle pull she couldn't name.

Her hand drifted unconsciously to her chest, over the pulse point where the strange ache bloomed since she touched Kade Varyn's hand. The brush of their skin had felt like a spark igniting in dry tinder. And it hadn't left her since.

No spell she knew could explain it. No charm, no curse.

It was something older.

Aria stepped outside, the cool air rushing over her heated skin. The clearing was awash in moonlight, the trees casting long, reaching shadows. Her breath curled in the cold as she walked toward the ancient oak at the edge of the glen , her sanctuary since childhood.

There, nestled between the gnarled roots, lay a small wooden box. Weathered, but unmistakable.

Her grandmother's mark carved into the lid: a crescent moon entwined with a serpent.

Aria's pulse quickened. She dropped to her knees, fingers trembling as she pried the box open.

Inside, resting atop brittle yellowed paper, was a letter.

The parchment was delicate, the ink faded but legible in her grandmother Elder Sira Wynn's elegant script.

To my beloved Aria,

If this finds you, then the blood has awakened.

Our line carries more than healing, child. We carry a bond forged by ancient wrongs and sealed in moonlight.

Aria's throat tightened.

The Wynn bloodline was cursed generations past, when a healer betrayed her oath and meddled with bonds meant for the gods alone. Since that day, every daughter born of our line bears a tether to the Alpha blood. A bond neither asked for nor escaped.

Aria's vision blurred.

A destined mate, they call it in legend. But it is a chain. A claim. And should the bloodline's bearer refuse it, darkness follows.

Her hands shook, the words blurring.

When the bond stirs, you'll know it by the ache in your chest, the pull in your soul. Do not let it own you. Choices remain, though the cost is steep.

Beware the Blackmoor Alpha.

Aria's heart lurched painfully.

Kade Varyn.

The old war stirs again, child. You were never meant to remain hidden. The blood calls, and you must decide what you will be.

Witch. Mate. Healer. Or cursebreaker.

The letter ended there, the final words smudged by what might have been a tear.

Aria sat back on her heels, the cold seeping through her bones. The bond... it wasn't a fairy tale or superstition. It was real. And it was hers to bear.

Or to defy.

But how did one defy fate itself?

She glanced toward the forest's edge. Somewhere beyond those trees, Kade lay in his den, preparing for war, never knowing that the woman who'd saved him was bound to him by ancient blood and a curse that could unravel both their worlds.

And yet... the ache in her chest wasn't pain alone.

It was longing.

And fear.

Aria gathered the letter and feather, tucking them back into the box. She rose, head tilting to the moon.

"Not yet," she whispered.

She wouldn't run. Not this time.

But neither would she surrender to a fate she hadn't chosen.

The moon seemed to shimmer in answer, clouds drifting across its pale face.

The war hadn't yet begun, but the first battle had.

And it was within her own heart.