Chapter 3: Into the Mist

POV: Aria Monroe

The forest was breathing.

Aria lay curled around Luna beneath the ancient tree, her body aching, her thoughts scattered. The mist shimmered like moonlight, wrapping around them in a hush of magic. She didn’t know how long she’d been unconscious, only that something had changed.

Her skin tingled. Her breath felt heavier, like the air itself had thickened. The tree loomed above them, its bark etched with glowing runes that pulsed faintly, like a heartbeat. She sat up slowly, cradling Luna’s sleeping form, and looked around.

The forest was quiet. Too quiet.

No birds. No wind. Just the hum.

She touched the bark again, and the pulse returned—stronger this time. A warmth spread through her chest, not painful, but intense. Her vision blurred, and the world tilted.

Then the visions came.

Not dreams. Not memories. Something deeper.

She stood in a throne room carved from obsidian and starlight. Runes floated in the air like fireflies. At the center stood a man—tall, regal, cloaked in shadow. His eyes glowed silver, his hair dark as midnight. He wore a crown of woven stars and a mark on his chest that shimmered with gold and crimson.

He looked at her.

You are mine, he said, though his lips didn’t move.

Aria tried to speak, but her voice was gone.

She saw wolves howling beneath a bleeding moon. She saw herself standing beside the man, her skin etched with glowing tattoos, her eyes burning with power. She saw Luna, older, radiant, surrounded by light.

Then the scene shifted.

She was in a forest again—but not the one she’d fled to. This one was ancient, sacred. Trees whispered in languages she didn’t know. A woman stood before her, cloaked in silver mist, her eyes like twin moons.

You touched the Root, the woman said. You woke the blood.

Aria blinked. “Who are you?”

I am the Moon. I am the Star. I am the Blood.

The woman reached out and touched Aria’s forehead.

Pain lanced through her skull. Her vision fractured. She saw three symbols—interlocking, glowing, alive. One burned like fire. One shimmered like frost. One pulsed like a heartbeat.

Then everything went dark.

—

She woke to birdsong.

The forest was quiet again. The mist had thinned, revealing soft morning light filtering through the trees. Luna was curled beside her, still asleep, her cheeks flushed and peaceful.

Aria sat up slowly, her body aching but intact. Her fingers tingled. Her skin felt… different. She looked down and gasped.

A faint mark glowed on her wrist—three interwoven symbols, delicate and intricate. They pulsed once, then faded into her skin like ink absorbed by paper.

She touched it. It was warm.

Luna stirred. “Mommy?”

“I’m here,” Aria whispered, pulling her close.

Luna blinked up at her. “Did the wolf come?”

Aria hesitated. “Not yet.”

They sat in silence for a long time, the forest breathing around them.

Aria didn’t know what had happened. She didn’t know what the visions meant. But she knew one thing with absolute certainty:

She couldn’t go back.

She stood, lifting Luna into her arms, and began walking deeper into the woods. The tree behind them pulsed once more, then went still.

As they walked, the forest seemed to shift around them. The trees leaned subtly, guiding her path. The mist parted just enough to reveal a trail she hadn’t noticed before. It felt like the woods were watching her—protecting her.

She paused at a stream, letting Luna sip from her water bottle. The child was quiet, unusually so. Aria knelt beside her.

“Are you okay, baby?”

Luna nodded. “I dreamed again.”

Aria’s heart skipped. “What did you see?”

“The man with the crown. He said you were special. He said I was too.”

Aria swallowed hard. “Did he say anything else?”

Luna looked up. “He said you were waking up.”

Aria didn’t know what that meant. But she felt it. Something inside her had shifted. Her senses were sharper. Her thoughts clearer. The mark on her wrist still tingled.

They continued walking until the trees opened into a small glade. Sunlight spilled through the canopy, illuminating a circle of stones. Aria stepped into it, feeling the energy hum beneath her feet.

She sat with Luna in the center, letting the warmth soak into her bones.

She brushed Luna’s hair back gently, her fingers lingering in the curls. “You’re so brave,” she whispered.

Luna smiled sleepily. “You are too.”

Aria didn’t feel brave.

She felt hunted.

And far away, in a castle carved from stone and starlight, a king stirred in his sleep—his heart echoing with the same pulse.

The bond had begun.