Warning of Danger

Elira was surprised by how cold the room felt.

It was the distance between them, not the library, which still smelt of rain and ink.

It was between Thane and her.

His hands were moving too carefully as he knelt at the shelf. Like a person suppressing a howl.

Uncertain if she was still welcome, she hovered at the entrance.

"You've back." His tone has a distance about it.

Not You came. Not I missed you.

It's just a fact. similar to a door shutting.

"I am," she answered softly. "I apologise for the delay."

He got up slowly. His eyes weren't hostile as he turned.

They were broken, containing something that was itching to come out.

"I was scared."

"Of me?"

"No." Her voice broke. "Of what you made me want."

The silence between them grew teeth. Tension hummed through the air like something primal—dangerous.

His hands curled slightly. She didn't see, but he smelled her sorrow. Her fear. Her sincerity.

And he wanted to grab for her because he could still smell her from that stormy night—the lavender and something wilder, deeper.

However, he remained still.

She muttered, "I ruined it. I understand."

But he remained silent.

She then gave a nod. turned to go.

But his voice, harsh and deep, pierced the air before she took her second stride.

"Elira."

She was stopped by his voice. She looked over her shoulder again.

Where she had left him, Thane stood, his face obscured by something unreadable, perhaps worry. perhaps something more sinister.

"Be careful when Kael comes back," he advised.

She knitted her brow. "Why would you say that?"

He didn't blink or move. He watched her as if the slightest touch would cause her to break.

"Because not all that remains after a war is the same as what is returned."

Sharp as wire, the quiet between them grew more intense.

Thane went on, "Something is awakening"

The word "awakening" became a stone in her chest.

Thane's gaze dropped to her wrists. "You'll feel it here first. Like silver under the skin. That's when you run."

His eyes fell to the ground as she opened her mouth to demand more.

"Trust that if you feel uneasy during a full moon and you don't know why."

A beat went by.

Then he turned to face her once more, but this time his eyes were not kind.

"Don't be alone with him when it rises."

____________________________________

(BACK TO PRESENT)

Thane's words hadn't made sense at the time. Awakening. The full moon. Don't be alone with him. She had walked away confused, brushing it off as another one of his cryptic moods. But now, after Kael finally told her about the werewolves, the meaning echoed back—sharper, heavier.

Werewolves. Full moon. Awakening.

Elira didn't know the full truth about that world yet. But she knew enough to understand one thing: the full moon stirred something in them. That was when instincts rose to the surface—when wolf hunters like Kael set out with blade and silver, knowing their prey would be easier to spot in the moonlight.

Was Thane one of them?

The thought lodged deep and refused to leave. It clawed at her, quieter than fear but louder than reason.

Driven by that restless curiosity, Elira rose from her seat and pulled on her cloak. She had to find answers—anything that might confirm what her heart was beginning to suspect.

She would search through every scrap of knowledge she could find, and this time, she'd look for the signs she hadn't known to see.

She had timed it perfectly.

Kael was long gone to the palace. The servants had finished cleaning his chambers. Only then did she slip inside—silent, deliberate. 

Her goal: a key.

Not just any key—the one that unlocked the Rennar family’s forbidden archives. "Knowing Your Enemy." A section no doubt filled with everything the Wolfhunters had ever learned about her kind. 

Her fingers skimmed over drawers, shelves, the polished surface of his desk—until she found it. 

A wooden box.

Tucked in the bottom shelf, heavy with secrets. And atop it… letters. 

Ilyana’s letters. 

So it was true, then. The princess had been writing to him.  Are they really lover?

Elira’s jaw tightened. She shouldn’t care. She didn’t.

It's irrelevant. She need to focus now.

A quick search later, her prize glinted on the upper shelf—the key.

She snatched it and vanished before the shadows could betray her. 

Rennar's ancestral library's tall windows let in the morning sun, which smeared the marble floor with long gold stripes. Peacefully, undisturbed, dust danced in the air. Elira, however, moved deliberately.

She had never lingered here before. The house was always welcome in the library, whose extensive holdings served as a reminder of the Rennar family's history and the centuries they had dedicated to ruthless werewolf hunting. She had never had to comprehend it.

Morever that certain section. So far.

Thane's words had stayed with her longer than they should have. At first, she had dismissed it as a warning about Kael. But now... Now that Kael had spoken of werewolves and full moons—of awakenings—those words echoed with new weight.

After running her fingers over the covers of a few old books, she settled on a battered leather-bound book called "Instinct and Transformation: Observations on the Lycanthrope."

The pages were crisp and yellowed under her fingertips as she carried it to a table by the window and sat down. She looked at one heading as she turned them.

"Awakening Signs"

A silent link to reality, her lips moved as she read aloud under her breath:

In hybrids or hidden-bloods, awakening can start quietly with nighttime restlessness, heightened senses, and emotional outbursts connected to the lunar cycle. Although it stirs the blood, the full moon does not necessarily force transformation. Most people complain of a burn on their spine, a constriction in their chest, or dreams of running in the moonlight.

She paused. Her hand stilled on the page.

As she read "heightened senses," her own flared—the dust motes burned like stars. The suppressant is failing. Panic tasted like metal.

That strange ache in her chest when she'd stood too close to Thane... that night in the library, the pulse of something hot and ancient rising in her throat when he had touched her sleeve...

She flipped the page.

"On Mates and Recognition"

She swallowed hard and continued:

"Among wolves, the recognition of a mate is a visceral phenomenon. It may occur before either party understands their own nature. The bond is not dictated by logic, but by instinct—often described as a sense of familiarity, a pull beneath the skin, an inexplicable comfort in the other's presence. Once awakened, the bond is difficult to ignore, even in its early stages."

A pulling force under the skin.

Elira shut her eyes. She sensed it. She was bound to someone she hardly knew by that unseen thread.

The truth slithered into her veins: she was bound to Thane. Not by choice. By blood.

Suddenly, it felt too quiet in the room. It was too bright in the morning. With the open book still spread out in front of her like a confession, she reclined in her chair.

Did he belong to that group?

Was Thane a wolf? Or was she the monster—a lie wearing silk in a house of hunters?

She didn't feel like a monster. She didn't feel any different. Nevertheless, she had changed since meeting Thane.

"No mate is selected. They are perceptible. Recognised.

Her breath shook. That familiar warmth in her blood. Unimagined.

This was no longer merely a cautionary tale about Kael.

It served as a warning about her.

If Thane had known all along...

The real question froze her: How long had Kael known what she was—and why marry a wolf you’re bred to kill?