Chapter 6 BOUND BY THE MOON

Chapter 6 – Bound by the Moon

The forest was quieter than usual.

Even the wind seemed hesitant to stir as Riven and Elara walked slowly back toward her cabin. The air between them shimmered with tension-not fear or discomfort, but something thick, electric, unspoken.

"I don't trust him," Riven muttered, eyes scanning the dark woods behind them.

"Elara frowned. "Lucien?"

Riven gave a slow nod. "He's... too calm. Too curious. There's something about his scent-it stirs something I can't explain."

"You think he's a threat?"

"I think he's dangerous," Riven replied, his voice dropping low. "But not yet. He's watching."

They arrived at the cabin, and Elara unlocked the door slowly. "Come inside," she said, her voice softer now. "I don't want you going back out there tonight."

There was a pause. Then Riven nodded.

Inside, the cabin's warm lighting wrapped around them like a blanket. A fire crackled softly in the hearth. Riven lingered near the doorway, uncertain, until Elara reached for his hand.

"You're not alone anymore, Riven."

Her touch stopped the whirlwind in his chest. He looked down at their fingers entwined, her warmth spreading through him like sunlight after centuries of cold.

"I've never..." he began, but stopped, his voice cracking.

"You don't have to explain," she whispered, "but I feel it too."

And then he kissed her.

It wasn't hungry or desperate-but slow, reverent, like he was rediscovering a part of himself. Elara melted into his arms, her fingers brushing his neck, his heartbeat pounding beneath her hand. He kissed her with the caution of a man who had never allowed himself softness, and the urgency of one who finally found it.

They moved in unison, their silhouettes dancing in the firelight. Riven's hands traced the lines of her back, memorizing her shape like scripture. Elara let herself feel him-his strength, his restraint, his fire.

On the couch, they collapsed together, still breathing hard. She nestled against him, and he didn't let go.

Outside, the moon had shifted higher in the sky.

*

Far across the forest, Lucien sat alone in a candlelit chamber carved into the earth. Ancient tomes and wolfhide banners lined the stone walls.

He was kneeling-shirtless, his chest marked with scars and runes of old blood oaths. Before him burned a violet flame, suspended above a stone bowl.

He dropped a drop of blood into the flame. It hissed.

"He's near," Lucien murmured.

Behind him, Dalia, his second, stepped into the chamber. "Did you see him?"

"I met him."

"And?"

"He doesn't know who I am," Lucien said. "But I've smelled that scent before-long ago. He's the one."

Dalia's eyes narrowed. "Then what now?"

Lucien stood slowly, eyes burning gold in the flickering fire. "Now we wait. Let him fall deeper into this life. The more he loves, the more he'll lose when I rip it all away."

*

Back in the cabin, Elara rested on Riven's chest, her breath steady.

"I had dreams of wolves as a child," she whispered. "Of stars falling into oceans. I thought they were nightmares. But now..."

"Maybe your soul remembered something your mind forgot," he murmured, stroking her hair. "You're more than just human, Elara. I feel it."

She looked up at him. "Maybe I was waiting for you, too."

Outside, the moon shifted again-closer now to alignment.

And far above, unseen by either world, the celestial pull began again.

The Rift was coming.

---

Elara stirred in the early hours, still curled against Riven's bare chest. The sound of his heartbeat-slow, heavy, grounding-was like a rhythm she'd known long before her birth. For a moment, she studied him in silence.

There were faint scars on his ribs, half-healed wounds on his shoulders, and muscles shaped more by survival than vanity. But it wasn't his body that held her-it was the look in his eyes when he thought she wasn't watching. That weight. That war. That pain he carried so quietly.

She reached up and ran her fingers gently across his collarbone. "You've been running for so long," she whispered.

Riven opened his eyes slowly. "I don't know anything else."

"You're not alone anymore."

He sat up slightly, brushing hair from her face. "If you stay close to me, you'll be a target."

"I'm not afraid," she said.

"That's what scares me."

*

Later that morning, Elara brewed tea as sunlight pierced the window blinds. Riven sat at the edge of her kitchen table, shirtless still, draping a flannel across his shoulders.

She turned, watching him. "So... what now?"

Riven exhaled. "I need to find out who Lucien really is. Something about him isn't right."

"I can ask around," she offered. "A few people in town talk to him. He visits the bookstore."

Riven tilted his head. "Why would a wolf like that be interested in books?"

Elara smirked. "Why would a wolf like you be interested in tea?"

Touché.

Their laughter blended with the creaking of the wood floor, the warmth between them finally feeling real.

But across town, something else stirred.

*

In the outskirts, Lucien knelt before an underground pool lit by moss-glow and torchlight. In his hand was a shard of obsidian with a silver thread bound through it. The moment the moons aligned, he believed the shard would react-and reveal the name of the wolf who fell through the rift 200 years ago.

"It's almost time," Dalia said behind him.

Lucien's voice was low, almost reverent. "His scent confirmed it. But this... this will give me his name. Once I have it, the Elders can't stop me. I'll have justice for my father."

He stood slowly, running his thumb along the edge of the shard. "He'll die knowing what he cost me."

*

Back in town, Elara and Riven walked through the marketplace. Riven wore a hat pulled low and a hoodie. Still, a few people looked twice-there was something... ancient about him. The way he walked. The stillness in his eyes.

At a local crystal stall, an old woman named Mara called Elara over. "That your boyfriend?"

Elara blushed. "Something like that."

Mara leaned close. "You look different. Happier."

Riven watched the exchange from a short distance, smiling faintly. He caught a scent-strange, but familiar.

The hair on his neck bristled.

Lucien.

He was nearby.

Not far away, Lucien walked through the square with Dalia, casually inspecting the market stands. His gaze caught Riven's, just for a moment-two strangers meeting eyes.

Neither flinched.

Lucien offered a nod. "Small world."

Riven nodded back. "Smaller than we think."

They held that gaze a heartbeat too long before parting.

Elara returned with her tea, touching Riven's arm. "Are you okay?"

"I just met a ghost," he muttered.

*

That night, Riven sat at the edge of Elara's porch, staring up at the two moons-his world and this one, inching closer to the Rift. He felt something in his bones, a pull, a warning.

Elara joined him with a blanket. "You sense it too?"

Riven nodded. "The balance is shifting."

"I read about the Rift in an old myth. They called it the Tether. The moment when fate can be rewritten."

He looked at her. "And what do you think our fate is?"

She leaned in, brushing her lips against his. "I think it's tangled together now. And I don't want to untangle it."

Riven didn't answer. He just kissed her back-slow, full of questions and promises.

But far below, in the dark of the forest, something ancient stirred. Something that had been waiting since the last Rift.

And it was watching.

---