Chapter 7

MAYA.

Kaia didn’t speak much as we walked, but I didn’t mind. The forest grew denser the deeper we went, trees leaning inward like they, too, were watching. The GPS on my phone had long stopped updating, and the mist thickened as if we were leaving one world and stepping into another.

Eventually, the trail opened into a vast clearing bathed in the silver wash of moonlight. My breath caught.

Nestled against the shadow of the mountain was a sprawling campus. The buildings weren’t what I expected — not modern or clinical, but ancient and breathtaking. Gothic spires pierced the sky, covered in creeping ivy. Stone walls shimmered faintly with something more than age. Magic, maybe. You could feel it in your skin, humming beneath your bones.

“Welcome to Moonridge Academy,” Kaia said, her tone reverent.

I followed her past the front gates, where a tall iron arch stood, engraved with a moon crest I recognized from the pendant. Something inside me pulsed.

The main building towered above us, but Kaia led me off to a smaller side path. We passed another girl walking in the opposite direction. Her hair shimmered silver in the moonlight and her eyes followed me like she knew something I didn’t.

Soon, Kaia paused in front of a pair of separate dormitories divided by a narrow stream and a moonstone bridge. One building was warm and inviting, wooden-paneled with lamps glowing in the windows. The other stood taller, colder, and built of dark stone.

Kaia pointed to the right one. “That’s yours. Human quarters. They’ll be expecting you.”

“You’re not coming with me?” I asked, hating the vulnerability in my voice.

She smiled, softening. “Nope. I’m over there.” She jerked a thumb toward the darker building. “Wolves on one side, humans on the other. Keeps things... simple.”

“Right.” I nodded, unsure how I felt about that.

Kaia stepped forward and, in a rare show of affection, placed a hand briefly on my shoulder. “Don’t worry. We’ll see each other again. Tomorrow’s interview is... intense. But you’ll do fine.”

I watched her go, disappearing across the moonstone bridge, before finally stepping into the human quarters. A matronly woman with strict eyes greeted me, handed me a key, and pointed me to a narrow room on the second floor.

It was simple — a bed, a desk, a small window that looked out toward the mountains. I dropped my bag by the door and sat down, heart still racing.

The pendant at my chest warmed suddenly. I held it, whispering to the room, “What are you pulling me into?”

Outside, the wolves howled.

LUCIEN.

The morning came cold and pale. Mist clung to the windows of the old keep, and the air tasted like rain yet to fall. I stood before the mirror, straightening the collar of my black jacket, fingers lingering on the insignia of my pack. The silver crescent pinned to my chest glinted faintly.

The council had summoned me to join the interview process at Moonridge Academy — not just as Alpha of the Silverclaw pack, but as someone with firsthand knowledge of the visions. They didn’t say it aloud, but we all knew it was about the girl.

The girl to fulfill the prophecy.

She was human, they said, yet something else. Something older.

I met my mother in the courtyard. She handed me a sealed envelope — the council’s official summoning for this morning — and gave a nod that held more meaning than words ever could.

“You’ll know her,” she said. “Even before they call her name.”

I arrived at the inner council chambers of Moonridge just as the candidates were gathering. The humans were seated on one side of the ceremonial hall, watched by silent guards and administrators. The wolves and other creatures remained distant, seated higher, shadows dancing across their faces. A few other council Alphas were there too, flanking the circle’s edges.

And then I saw her.

I had never met her before but her presence felt too familiar and I could sense that it was her; the Lunar Borne.

She was seated near the end of the row. Small, unsure, her fingers tapping against her knee. But her eyes… her gaze locked with mine the moment I entered the room.

Wide. Curious. Cautious. Drawn.

Like the forest had followed her here.

My footsteps faltered for a heartbeat. Her pendant glinted beneath her collar, and the runes beneath my skin itched with recognition. 

I took my seat beside Elder Varek, a sharp-eyed wolf who studied everyone like they were suspects in a crime only he could solve.

The interviews began.

A boy from New York was called first. Questions followed — about his academic background, lineage, knowledge of supernatural history. The council's tone was formal, distant. Some of the humans fumbled, others tried too hard.

Then, they called her.

“Maya Lennox,” announced the headmaster. “Please step forward.”

She stood carefully, back straight despite the way her hands trembled. Her eyes darted toward me again before settling on the panel.

“Miss Lennox,” said Elder Varek, leaning forward. “You are aware that Moonridge Academy accepts only one human per cycle?”

“Yes,” she said quietly.

“Do you understand what’s expected of that human?”

“To observe. To learn. To keep the peace,” she answered. Her voice held the right notes, but her heartbeat was wild. I could hear it.

“Yet you carry something... unusual,” another council member said, gesturing toward her chest. “That pendant.”

“I just found it in my room,” Maya replied, voice steadier now. “I didn’t think it meant anything until recently.”

Varek’s eyes narrowed. “Did you know about the wolves? About the Lunar Borne?”

“No.” Her brows furrowed slightly. 

Her gaze flicked toward me again, lingering.

I sat completely still, but inside, something unfurled and coiled at once.

“Have you ever shifted?” someone asked sharply.

She blinked. “Shifted?”

“Into a wolf,” clarified another councilwoman, older than the trees outside. “Any animal? Have you ever experienced an uncontrolled transformation, even briefly?”

“No,” Maya whispered.

“Do you fear wolves, Maya?”

She looked straight at me, and I felt the breath catch in my throat.

“No,” she said.

The room paused. A moment so thin it could’ve cracked.

“Fascinating,” Varek murmured, then looked at me. “Alpha Lucien. Any observations?”

I met Maya’s gaze and spoke carefully. “She’s calm in a room designed to intimidate. That says more than any background check.”

She blinked at the word “Alpha” but didn’t look away.

The council murmured among themselves, scribbling notes.

The interview continued — a few more questions about her lineage, her old school, her unusual test scores in lunar energy studies (which she hadn’t even realized were abnormal).

Eventually, they dismissed her with a nod.

She stepped back slowly, returning to her seat — but her eyes lingered on me, one last time.

And for the

first time since the vision, I didn’t see fire.

I saw a choice.