Chapter 4 Moonlight Shifts

A curse is what, but an unchosen heritage? And love, what is it but the courage to confront the monster within, and not run?

____

It was a full moon that night, a white eye suspended above Virelle's beach. It poured its silvery light upon the cliff-dwelling cottage, upon the upset breath of the sea, and into Merbel Ashcliff's heart.

She sat cross-legged at the hearth, arms clasped tight across her chest, the heat of the fire powerless to penetrate the storm seething in her blood. Her bones ached. Her skin tingled. Her breath was clipped and stinging. It was the time of the oncoming full moon-the time when her wolf fought hardest to be free.

She hadn't warned Anacobal.

He sat outside where the stone steps started, staring up at the moon. Sea fog lapped around him like a lover, its saltiness tickling his hair. He hummed-a low, mournful tune that curled itself around Merbel's ears like kelp around a blown gull.

Her body jerked.

A shiver traveled up her spine. Her teeth lengthened into fangs for an instant. Her eyes flashed gold. The changing had begun.

She stumbled back from the fire, knocking over a pot. It clattered loudly.

Anacobal appeared instantly, kneeling beside her. "Merbel?"

"Don't-don't come close," she hissed, her voice raw, ragged.

But he didn't listen.

He knelt in front of her, placing his palm gently on her cheek.

She turned her face away. "You don't know what you're doing."

"Yes," he whispered. "I do."

With trembling hands, Merbel tried to push him back. Her nails-claws now-scraped against his wrist. He didn't flinch. He took both her hands in his, and began to hum once more.

She recognized this one. The melody was one she'd dreamed, so many years ago. A lullaby she'd never known she'd learned. It had the rhythm of waves and the beat of moonlight.

She went silent.

The transformation ceased, held back like a tide that did not want to rise.

"You can't do that," she whispered, lips trembling.

"There is wolf in you, and there is man in me," Anacobal said, brushing a lock of hair from her dripping brow.

They sat in silence, his hand remaining on hers. Merbel's pounding heart slowed slowly.

Why didn't you flee?" she finally demanded. "You saw it. The transformation. The fangs. The claws. Why didn't you flee like the rest?"

He stepped closer. "Because you did not scare me. You have never scared me."

Their eyes locked. Something deeper flowed between them-old, primal, gentle. It pulsed under her skin like the moon's own rhythm.

She broke into the silence. "You mentioned there was a world. beyond the blue?

Anacobal nodded slowly. "Beyond the deepest currents. Beyond light. There are cities of glass and coral. Memory vaults. Song thrones. And at the center."

He put his hand on her chest, over her heart.

".the temple of moonlight. The temple of awakening."

She felt her breath stop. "I dreamed of it. Last night. I heard someone call me 'daughter.'"

He nodded, his face impassive. "Then you are ready."

"Ready for what?"

"Ready for the truth.".

He stood up, offering his hand. She took it, still trembling, and let him guide her out.

The wind had died down. The sea sparkled, still roiled by the storm, but shining softly now with bioluminescence.

"There is a prophecy," Anacobal said, looking out at the water. "One of land and sea. Of wolf and wave. Of the Moon Wolf who would bring them together. or sunder them."

She looked at him, heart racing. "You think that's me?"

"I know it's you."

She released his hand, stepping back. "No. I'm no chosen one. I'm barely holding together. I'm a danger to everyone. I-"

"You're not a danger," he told her. "You are the bridge. That's why your wolf listens to me. Why you dream the songs of the deep."

"But why me?" she breathed. "Why not another?"

Anacobal hesitated. His black hair ruffled in the wind. The moon halted on the harsh lines of his jaw, the grieving slant of his mouth.

"Because your mother attempted to," he spoke finally.

Merbel went cold. "You knew her?"

"I was a child when she disappeared. But yes. I knew her. She was hard. Wild. And in love."

"Love with whom?"

He looked at her, haunted eyes now. "A man who betrayed her. Who was afraid of what their child would become."

Silence hung, sharp as a blade.

Merbel's voice cracked. "That child was me."

He nodded. "And you've already survived her. Because you're still alive. Still opting for mercy. Still fighting the beast when it claws at your back."

She looked out at the ocean. Her breath fogged the air. The horizon glimmered, as if calling out.

"I don't know if I'm strong enough," she said.

"You are."

He came to her side again, fingers grazing hers.

"We can be strong together."

She closed her eyes, letting the truth wash over her. The prophecy. The pain. The possibility of something. more.

Their shoulders touched. Not by accident.

Their hands intertwined. Not by chance.

A shiver passed through her. Not from fear. From something else. Something tender and terrifying.

"I don't know what this is between us," she whispered.

"Neither do I," he said, voice low. "But it feels. old. Like we've been finding each other across lifetimes."

Their lips were inches apart. Their breath mingled. But they didn't kiss. Not yet.

The moment hovered, fragile and full.

Far below, the sea roared against the cliffs. A warning. Or a welcome.

Merbel turned away, heart pounding.

Anacobal said nothing. But he stayed beside her.

And the moon looked on, silver and motionless, while two broken pieces began to remember how they could fit.

__________