Chapter 3: Beneath the Skin of the Moon

~Eira

They came for me like hunger given shape.

The Wyrmfangs lunged from the dark, claws bared, bone masks gleaming in the slivers of moonlight spilling into the cave. My horse screamed, her hooves kicking against stone, but I couldn’t focus on her. Not now.

The first one reached me in a blink, teeth snapping, and I did the only thing I could—I changed.

It wasn’t like the usual shift. This was no slow unraveling. It was instant. Reflexive. Violent.

A flash of pain shot through my spine like lightning. My bones cracked, realigned. My fingernails split open, elongating into deadly black claws. My teeth ached as they pushed out of my gums into long, curved fangs. My limbs stretched, muscles thickened. A white streak burst through the center of my hair like a flare in the dark—wild, bright, and unrelenting.

My heart thundered in my chest. And then I was no longer just Eira.

My wolf was awake.

I let out a low snarl, the sound echoing off the stone walls, and launched myself at the nearest Wyrmfang.

My claws tore through its flesh like parchment. The creature howled as I drove it into the cave wall, stone cracking behind it. Before it could recover, I slashed its throat in a clean arc, black ichor spraying across my arm.

Another one jumped at me from the left. I ducked low, spinning, and caught it midair with a vicious kick that sent it skidding across the floor. I didn’t stop. I ran straight into the next, my shoulder slamming into its gut as I tackled it to the ground. My claws dug into its ribcage and ripped.

The cave roared with violence.

The Wyrmfangs shrieked and scattered, then regrouped like a tide of nightmares. They were relentless, clawing and swarming, attacking in coordinated packs. For every one I shredded, two more came.

They moved like spiders. No hesitation. No fear.

I twisted, ducked, slashed. One leapt onto my back, but I rolled, crushing it beneath me. Another tried to flank me—I grabbed its jaw with both hands and snapped it in half.

But the cave couldn’t hold us.

The walls cracked under the force of our chaos. Stalactites rained down like knives. Stone gave way beneath trampling claws and hooves. The air was thick with dust and blood and the stench of rot.

I heard my horse scream again.

I turned—and saw one of the creatures racing toward her.

“No!”

I moved faster than thought, a blur of fury, and slammed into the Wyrmfang before it reached her. I clawed it down to the ground and crushed its skull with a single punch.

She neighed, terrified, wild-eyed.

“I’ve got you,” I whispered through gritted teeth, blood soaking my fur.

But I was losing strength.

My arms shook. My slashes were slowing. My limbs felt heavy, my vision dimmer.

There were just too many.

One of them caught me across the ribs, its claws slicing open my side. I gasped. Another clipped my thigh. A third slammed into my back, forcing me down to one knee.

I growled and surged up, flinging them off—but another lunged and sank its teeth into my shoulder.

White-hot pain exploded through me.

I shrieked, grabbed it by the throat, and hurled it into the wall. But something changed in that moment. My body… stuttered.

My limbs wavered. My muscles turned to mud. My thoughts slurred, like sleep was wrapping itself around my mind.

Venom.

The bastard bit me with venom-laced fangs.

I staggered back. Slashed weakly. Another tried to circle behind me.

No. No, I couldn’t fall. I couldn’t—

And then, a howl.

Not from the Wyrmfangs.

From someone else.

A blur of motion slammed into the nearest creature, tearing it away from me. A hooded figure moved like a phantom, cutting through the swarm with terrifying precision. His fists glowed faintly with some kind of magic—gold pulses of energy exploding on impact as he punched and struck.

The Wyrmfangs howled as he slammed one into the cave wall hard enough to splinter the stone. Another tried to bite him—he twisted and snapped its neck in a single motion.

I wanted to ask who he was. To thank him. To warn him.

But the venom dragged me under like a tide. My knees buckled.

And the world turned black.

I woke up to silence.

The smell of blood was gone. The cold had softened. My head pounded like war drums, and my shoulder burned—but I was alive.

I blinked.

Stone above me. A different cave. Warmer. Deeper.

A cloth was tied tightly around my shoulder, soaked slightly in dried blood and a bitter-smelling salve.

I sat up with a wince.

And there he was.

Caelum.

Sitting cross-legged beside a small fire, a skin of water beside him. His cloak was damp, his face pale—but he looked at me like he hadn’t taken his eyes off me since I fell.

“What… what happened?” I croaked.

“You were attacked by Wyrmfangs. I saved you.” Caelum replied.

“Why are you here?” I said, crossing my arms

He stood and walked over. “I couldn’t let you go off on your own, so I followed—to make sure you were safe.” He offered a small, tired smile. “I’m glad I did.”

I frowned. “I’m perfectly fine. I don’t need your help. I can handle myself.”

Caelum raised a brow. “Your injuries tell a different story.”

I looked away. The fire crackled.

“Why didn’t you stand up for me during the Moon Calling ceremony?” I asked, voice tighter than I intended.

He paused, then came to sit beside me on the wide, flat rock I’d woken on.

“There was nothing I could do,” he said quietly. “If I got involved, I would’ve made it worse. They could’ve ordered your execution.”

“I expected you to stand up for me.” My voice cracked. “After everything we’ve been through. You just… stayed there. Watched them drag me away like a criminal.”

“I’m sorry, Eira.”

I bit my lip. Tears burned the corners of my eyes.

“It’s fine.” I wiped them away roughly. “It’s not your fault. It’s Aeron’s. For throwing away all our years of friendship… for casting me out like I was nothing. For a reason I don’t even know.”

I clenched my fists. “If I ever see him again… I’ll slit his throat.”

“Don’t talk like that,” Caelum said gently. “Aeron wouldn’t have sent you away if there wasn’t a reason. He loves you. I know he does.”

I laughed bitterly. “If that’s his version of love, then he can keep it. Because whatever was left in me for him—he burned it.”

Caelum hesitated, then pulled me closer. His arms wrapped around me, warm and steady. His hand slid through my hair, soft and slow.

“I hate him so much,” I whispered, voice muffled by his chest.

“I know,” he said simply.

We sat in silence, the fire crackling between us.

Then he spoke again. “Eira… does the crescent birthmark you’ve had since we were kids ever glow?”

I blinked, confused. “No. Why would you ask that?”

He looked at me, his expression unreadable.

“Because it’s glowing.”

“What?!”