The call in the dark

The night pressed heavy over Silvercrest.

Braxton sat on the edge of the training yard fence, the chill of the wood biting into his palms. The moon hung low and pale above the treetops, not yet full, but bright enough to silver the edges of the forest.

He should have gone inside hours ago. Should have been asleep, preparing for another day of patrols. But his wolf wouldn’t let him rest. It prowled inside him, agitated and wild, pacing the confines of his mind like a caged storm.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

Her awakening wasn’t supposed to begin for another week. That was how it worked — the Moon Goddess marked their kind from birth, their wolves rising when the time was right, under the pull of the full moon. Predictable. Natural. Controlled.

But Emry was already changing.

He’d seen it in the way her eyes shimmered with violet, in the hum of her energy when she passed too close, in the way his wolf responded to her now — instinctive, raw, recognizing.

He dragged a hand through his hair and exhaled sharply, the sound breaking the stillness. “Why now?” he muttered under his breath. “Why her? Why early?”

His wolf didn’t answer, but he could feel it pressing against his ribs, restless, impatient.

Because she’s ours.

Braxton gritted his teeth. “She’s not ready.”

The words echoed back at him, swallowed by the night. But the wolf disagreed. He could feel it in the pull of the bond, in the heat that flared whenever she was near. Something ancient was waking between them, and it terrified him more than any battle ever had.

He rose, restless, pacing the yard. His boots crushed frost-slick grass, his breath clouding in the air. Every instinct screamed to go to her — to check on her, to make sure she was safe, to make sure this wasn’t hurting her.

But he couldn’t.

She already thought he watched her too closely. That his protectiveness was control. He couldn’t give her more reason to hate him.

He looked up at the moon, its light catching the scar along his jaw. “If this is your doing,” he whispered to the sky, “then you’ve got a cruel sense of timing.”

The forest stirred, a soft wind threading through the trees, almost like laughter — or warning.

He closed his eyes. The hum in the air was faint, but it was there. Her hum. That same vibration he’d felt earlier in the day now echoed faintly through the packlands. His wolf lifted its head inside him, ears forward, alert.

She was awake. Not her wolf, not yet — but the part of her that could hear the Goddess’s call.

And it was calling back.

Braxton’s hands curled into fists. “She’s a week early,” he said again, voice lower, darker. “That shouldn’t be possible.”

Unless she’s not like the others, his wolf murmured.

He didn’t want to believe that. He’d seen what divine blood did to wolves. He’d seen how it burned through the unready.

But the violet in her eyes haunted him — the same violet he’d dreamed of since childhood, the same color the Moon Goddess’s gaze had carried in every story whispered through the pack.

If Emry truly bore her mother’s power, if the Moon Goddess herself had touched her bloodline, then her awakening wouldn’t follow mortal rules.

And if that was true…

He lifted his gaze to the forest again, tension threading through every muscle. Somewhere beyond those trees, rogues still lingered. Still hunted.

If they were after her because of what she was — because of what she was becoming — then time was running out faster than any of them realized.

His wolf gave a low growl in his chest, the sound vibrating through his bones.

Then we stay close.

Braxton exhaled through his nose, the decision settling over him like armor. “Yeah,” he murmured. “We stay close.”

He looked back toward the pack house, the faint glow of her window just visible through the trees. A soft breeze carried her scent — wildflowers and moonlight — wrapping around him, both comfort and curse.

He didn’t pray often, but tonight, he did.

Moon Goddess, if you’re listening, he thought, don’t take her from me before she even knows what she is.

The hum pulsed once, faint but steady — as if the Goddess had heard him.

Braxton drew in a deep breath, then reached through the bond that linked his mind to Eastin’s.

“Alpha,” he sent through the link, his mental voice steady even as his pulse thundered. “I’m heading out for an impromptu patrol. Just to clear my head.”

A few seconds passed before Eastin’s reply came, deep and clipped with fatigue.

“You’re restless again.”

“Yeah,” Braxton admitted. “Can’t sleep. I’ll check the southern ridge.”

“Fine. But stay in contact.”

The link faded. Braxton flexed his hands, the wolf beneath his skin pacing again, eager.

“Come on then,” he muttered, stepping off the fence into the silver light. “Let’s make sure she stays safe.”

And with that, he slipped into the forest, swallowed by moonlight and silence.

Emry POV

Emry couldn’t sleep.

The hum had been building for hours — soft at first, like a whisper she could ignore, but now it pulsed steady and low, thrumming through her veins like music she couldn’t quite hear.

She’d tried everything. Reading. Pacing. Tea gone cold on her bedside table. But the more she tried to quiet her thoughts, the louder it became.

By midnight, she’d given up pretending it would fade.

She sat on the window seat, knees drawn to her chest, staring out over the sleeping packlands. The moon hung full and heavy, not yet at its peak but close enough that the light painted everything in silver. The forest shimmered under its touch, alive with quiet movement.

The hum deepened again, vibrating in her chest. She pressed a hand over her heart and exhaled shakily.

It wasn’t fear she felt. It was… awareness.

Something was out there. Something familiar.

And then she felt it — another presence, faint but distinct, moving along the edge of her senses like a ripple through still water. It was strong and steady, threaded with restraint and a pulse that matched the rhythm of her own.

Her breath caught.

“Braxton,” she whispered before she could stop herself.

The name lingered in the air, soft and fragile.

She didn’t know how she knew it was him, only that she did. The pull between them, subtle but undeniable, had grown stronger since that morning. It wasn’t just instinct anymore — it was connection.

She stood and leaned closer to the window. The cool glass fogged beneath her breath as she scanned the forest. At first, there was nothing but the whisper of wind through leaves. Then, between the trees, she caught a flicker of movement — quick, silent, deliberate.

Her pulse jumped.

“Idiot,” she muttered under her breath. “He actually went out there alone.”

The logical part of her knew she should call for someone — alert Eastin, send another patrol. But something in her blood warned against it. This wasn’t a threat. It wasn’t danger she felt thrumming through that bond — it was him.

The hum rose again, warm and insistent, spreading from her chest to her fingertips. It wasn’t just calling to her; it was answering him.

She stepped back, pacing the room, her bare feet brushing against the woven rug. The scent of wildflowers filled the air, thick and sweet. It shouldn’t have been so strong.

“Get a grip, Em,” she whispered. “You’re imagining things.”

But even as she said it, the truth pressed harder against her ribs.

She could feel him. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat. The restless energy of his wolf brushing against hers like a distant echo.

And though she told herself to stay put, her hand still drifted toward the door — fingers curling around the handle before she forced them away.

She couldn’t go after him. Not without reason. Not without her brother questioning her sanity come morning.

Still, she stood there a long time, staring at the line of trees beyond the window, her pulse beating to the same steady rhythm she felt in the dark.

Somewhere out there, Braxton moved through the forest, following instincts he couldn’t explain.

And here, under the same moonlight, Emry felt the echo of his every step.

The bond wasn’t awake yet. Not fully.

But it was beginning.

And the Moon Goddess never called early without reason.