Chapter 3 THE MARK BENEATH THE SNOW

Snow fell again by the time Eira reached the edge of the forest, soft flakes drifting from a heavy sky, blurring the horizon into a pale wash of gray. The trees rose like ancient sentinels, limbs sagging under the weight of white. The silence wasn't peaceful,it was expectant.

But it wasn't the cold that unsettled her.

It was the pull.

A strange, invisible thread tugged at her chest, drawing her deeper into the trees. She didn't understand it, only knew she couldn't ignore it. Since the moment her reflection moved without her in the mirror, something inside her had shifted. A hum beneath her skin. A restlessness in her blood.

Now it was leading her here.

One step. Then another.

Her boots crunched softly beneath her, each movement swallowed by snow. The manor quickly vanished behind her, buried in the thicket of trees. She had no map, no plan. Just instinct and something older, darker.

Then she heard a voice that felt ancient and familiar, echoing inside her chest.

"Eira..."

She froze.

It hadn't come from the woods. It had come from within.

Heart hammering, she spun in place, eyes scanning the trees. Nothing. No one. Just wind and snow and shadows.

---

Back at the manor, Lucien moved with tense urgency, boots echoing off the stone floor.

"She left without warning?" he demanded.

Cale followed closely, his coat unbuttoned over training gear. "One of the eastern guards caught sight of her crossing the perimeter. She's in the Frostmere woods."

Lucien cursed under his breath, snatching his coat from the wall.

"She got through the wards?" Cale asked.

"She shouldn't have been able to," Lucien growled. "But she's not playing by the same rules anymore."

Cale hesitated. "Do you want backup?"

"No." Lucien's eyes burned silver. "She's not prey. I'll bring her back myself."

"And if she's not alone?"

Lucien's voice dropped like steel. "Then whoever's with her won't walk away."

---

The trees opened into a clearing that made Eira's skin crawl.

The snow stopped at its edges, like it feared to touch the space. The circle of earth was bare, cracked soil surrounded by trees bent outward, their bark blackened like they'd been scorched.

At the center stood a stone.

Obsidian-black, smooth, no taller than her knee, yet it radiated a presence that made her throat tighten.

Eira stepped toward it, every nerve on edge. Symbols covered the surface, but they weren't letters. They were feelings. Sorrow. Fire. Blood. Memory.

She knelt and brushed her fingers along the stone.

Pain lanced through her spine.

Light exploded behind her eyes.

---

She stood in another Winterborne, a world lost in time.

The trees were alive with magic. The manor was gone. In its place: a village of fire-lit homes and wolves running free among men and women. Some mid-shift. Some walking with silver eyes.

And at the center of it all, was her.

Or someone who looked like her.

Older. Cloaked in white trimmed with bone. A crescent pendant rested at her throat, pulsing with a rhythm that matched Eira's heart.

The First Luna.

The vision vanished.

Eira dropped to her knees, gasping. Her hands glowed with pale blue light, mist rising from her fingertips before fading into her skin.

She stared, trembling. "What the hell-"

"Get up."

Lucien's voice cut through the trees like a blade.

He stood at the edge of the clearing, breath heavy, snow in his hair. His silver eyes glowed like twin moons.

"You followed me," she said, breathless.

"I warned you not to enter the forest."

"I didn't mean to go far-"

"You passed a warded border."

Eira stood shakily. "Something was calling me."

Lucien strode toward her. "Something... or someone?"

"I saw her," she whispered. "The Luna. She looked like me. Felt like me."

He stopped cold.

"You saw her?"

"I touched the stone and-"

"You touched the Moonstone?"

Her brows furrowed. "Is that what it is?"

Lucien moved past her and knelt before it, hovering his gloved hand above the stone-but not touching it.

"This hasn't responded to anyone in over a century," he murmured. "Only a Luna can awaken it."

Eira's breath caught in her throat. "But that's... impossible."

Lucien rose slowly, eyes unreadable. "You're defying a lot of impossibilities."

She wrapped her arms around herself, shivering.

"I'm not ready for this."

"It doesn't matter," he said softly. "It's already begun."

---

The hot water scalded her skin, but it wasn't enough to wash away the weight of what she'd seen. Eira stood in the shower, scrubbing at her arms like she could erase the memory. But it clung to her. The village. The wolves. The Luna with her face.

Her blood.

In the mirror, she saw it again.

The crescent mark on her back.

No longer faint. No longer just a scar.

It shimmered like moonlight beneath her skin.

She wasn't human.

She wasn't imagining any of it.

The door creaked open behind her.

Eira spun, yanking a towel around her.

"You could knock."

Lucien leaned casually against the doorframe. "I did."

"And when I didn't answer?"

"You disappeared for hours. We thought you fainted."

"I'm fine."

"You passed out in a sacred grove."

"I didn't pass out," she snapped. "I had a vision."

He stepped closer, voice quiet but intense. "What did you see?"

"I saw her. The Luna. Not just a memory, she looked right at me. I felt everything."

Lucien's face changed. Something ancient. Something afraid.

"She chose you," he said.

Eira swallowed hard. "What does that mean?"

"It means the old blood is stirring. The Luna line is reawakening. And with it... comes the bond. The throne. And the war."

Her voice wavered. "There's going to be a war?"

Lucien turned away, words low and heavy.

"There always is. When a Luna rises."

---

That night, Eira didn't sleep.

She stood at the window, watching the snow fall under the pale moon. Somewhere in the dark, a wolf howled long, low, and fierce.

She pressed her palm to the glass.

And something in her stirred.

---

In the great hall, Lucien stared into the flames, the shadows dancing across his sharp features.

"She touched the Moonstone," he said.

Cale looked up from polishing a blade. "That confirms it then?"

Lucien gave a tight nod. "She's Luna-born."

"But she's untrained. Untethered. Exposed."

"She's mine to protect now," Lucien said quietly.

"And when the Hollow Alpha hears about this?"

Lucien turned, silver eyes gleaming like blades.

"Then let him come."