Chapter 4 :  The Unrecorded Blood 

I could tell something was off about my father. Since last night, he’d been quieter than usual, his gaze heavy with unshed rain. This morning, when I came downstairs, he was already waiting at the dining table, untouched toast in front of him, staring at the steam rising from his teacup.

"Willow," he finally said, his voice distant, like it had traveled through time just to reach me. "Come with me to study."

His tone left no room for argument. There was something in it—a heavy resignation, as if he’d finally surrendered to a secret buried too long.

We walked through the long halls of Moonveil Manor, our footsteps echoing against the old wooden floors, past the portraits of ancestors whose silent eyes followed us from the walls.

The study door creaked open, revealing the scent of old leather-bound books, dust, and long-extinguished candles. In the center of the room stood a circular oak bookshelf, where my father stopped. His hand reached for one of the oldest volumes—bound in dark leather, embossed with a crescent moon and twisting wolfbane branches.

"This book," he said softly, "has been passed down for eight generations. Only a Moonveil by blood may read it… and only in dire times."

He opened the first page. Ancient script was etched there, in faded gold ink that still held an eerie elegance.

Inside were all the things I’d never been taught. The glorious history of Moonveil, victories carved in blood, magical pacts forged under full moons, and the darkest secrets buried generation after generation—curses, betrayals, and forbidden love.

I turned the pages with trembling hands. My eyes caught the story of a woman exiled for loving the enemy’s blood, a child born bearing two curses, and a shadow referred to as the "Cracked Moon Child"—a title that sent chills down my spine because of the description… reminded me of myself.

As I read, I noticed some names had been blacked out. Rereading the stories, I realized they were all Moonveil daughters born after Alpha Cassius’s generation. Then I saw something strange—Alpha Cassius’s name wasn’t just written in gold ink. It was smeared with dried blood.

"A curse…" I whispered.

The world around me seemed to crumble slowly. *A curse on the Moonveil daughters.* I was a seventh-generation Moonveil daughter after Alpha Cassius.

I stood up, the book nearly slipping from my grasp.

"Father… Why me?" My voice was barely a whisper, lost in the dusty silence of the study.

Without waiting for an answer, I ran. My steps were frantic, my breath short, as if the shadows of the past had risen to chase me.

I slammed my bedroom door shut, locking myself inside the walls that had always hidden my weakness.

Tears spilled over before I could stop them. I wasn’t just shocked—I felt betrayed. By my own blood. By the history that was supposed to be my pride.

Outside, the sun was setting. But inside me, night had already fallen.

I hugged my knees on the bed, wrapped in a thin blanket, as if that could shield me from the cold weight of history seeping into my soul.

Why did I have to be born a Moonveil daughter?

Why was fate so cruel, hanging a curse of love around the necks of every woman born from this bloodline? Love—it should have been a blessing, not a disaster. But for me, it was poison passed down through generations, burning slowly, leaving ashes no wind could sweep away.

That curse had destroyed the women before me. They loved, then were destroyed by that love. Betrayed. Torn apart. Forgotten. And I… I refused to become one of them.

"This is the modern age," I whispered to myself. "A woman who doesn’t marry isn’t a disgrace."

I could live on my own. I could carve my own destiny. I could be Alpha without needing someone by my side.

I wouldn’t fall in love. I wouldn’t let anyone get close enough to break me.

I closed my eyes, trying to push away the thought.

I had to be strong.

I had to walk away.

Because it was better to be alone… than to love and be destroyed.

*******

The breakfast table was silent, save for the occasional clink of silverware against porcelain. None of us were really eating.

I set my fork down gently and looked at my parents across the table.

"Mom, Dad," I said softly, but firmly. "I think… it’s time you tried again."

Mom frowned. "Tried what, sweetheart?"

I swallowed hard. "To have another child. A son. So the Moonveil bloodline doesn’t end with me. The world has changed. Medical technology has advanced. Maybe… maybe now it’s possible to… ensure a son."

Mom went still, her hands trembling slightly around her teacup. Dad set his napkin down and looked at me for a long moment.

"Willow," he said calmly, but there was something sacred in his tone. "You know, for centuries, our family has never relied on science to continue our bloodline. Every Moonveil has prayed… to the Moon Goddess. We begged for a son. An heir. An Alpha."

He paused, then continued, "But I… I wasn’t granted one. Instead, I was given to you."

I stiffened, almost offended. But he spoke again before I could.

"That wasn’t a failure. It was the answer to a different prayer. Maybe… maybe we’ve been praying wrong all this time. Maybe we don’t need another male Alpha, another repetition of the same cycle. Maybe what we need… is an ending."

His gaze held mine. The eyes that were usually so stern now looked weary, yet full of quiet hope.

"I prayed again, Willow. And this time, I didn’t ask for a son. I only asked that… you be the last."

"The last?" My voice was barely a whisper.

"Yes." A bitter smile touched his lips. "The generation that breaks the curse. The one who ends this painful history. And if that means you never marry, never bear children, never pass on this blood… then so be it. We’ll accept it."

The words fell like cold spring rain. Soaking. Chilling. Suffocating.

I looked down, unable to speak.

That line could have been the powerful, heartbreaking close to a chapter—as if the voices of the past, whether from our ancestors, the goddess, or the ancient text itself, whispered directly into Willow’s soul.

"Live your destiny. Follow your instincts. May you find true love—the curse-breaker."

Willow stared at those words for a long time. Something stirred in her chest—fear, hope, and something almost like courage.

Softly, I whispered in my heart: What if I never find the blood that breaks the curse?