Chapter 4

The Map and the Mark

Aria stared at the parchment long after the stranger had vanished.

The moonlight glinted faintly off the symbols, making them shimmer like silver fire. They felt wrong and familiar all at once like a forgotten dream pressing at the edge of her mind.

She traced the crescent symbol in the center. As soon as her fingers touched the ink, a sharp sting flared on her skin.

She hissed and looked down.

A mark glowing faintly was seared onto her wrist. Not a burn, not quite a tattoo. It was the same crescent moon from the map, glowing softly like it had been there all along, just waiting to be revealed.

“What the hell is happening to me?” she whispered.

Whatever this was, it wasn’t normal. She wasn’t normal. She had been living her life as a human quiet, invisible, working night shifts, paying bills, just trying to survive.

But now?

She didn’t even know who she was.

Her heart pounded harder as a sudden gust of wind swept through the forest. The torchlights back in the clearing flickered, though she was miles away now. Her senses were sharper, her vision clearer in the dark. She could hear everything: the soft rustle of leaves, the scuttle of a mouse in the underbrush, the distant howl of wolves far across the hills.

She had no choice but to move.

Clutching the map, Aria started walking. The parchment pulsed faintly in her hand, tugging her toward a direction she couldn’t explain. North. Always north.

She trekked through the night, through tangled woods and streams, guided only by the runes and the quiet certainty that something someone was waiting for her at the end of this.

By dawn, she reached a small abandoned chapel tucked deep in the forest. Vines crept along its crumbling stone walls, and a massive oak had split the roof in two, letting beams of sunlight pour in like a blessing.

She stepped inside cautiously.

Silence. Dust. Faded murals painted on the walls, depicting wolves in battle, a woman cloaked in silver flames, and a throne made of moonlight.

Her gaze snagged on the altar.

It was cracked and ancient, but something inside it shimmered. A pulse like a heartbeat.

Drawn forward, Aria placed the parchment on it.

The map glowed.

Then, from beneath the stone, a compartment clicked open.

Inside was a necklace. A thin silver chain with a pendant another crescent moon, this one embedded with a single drop of blue crystal.

She touched it. A surge of energy ripped through her chest.

Visions slammed into her mind. Fire. Wolves. A woman screaming her name. A crown of silver. A wolf with eyes like hers falling into darkness.

Aria staggered back, gasping.

Her fingers shook as she clutched the pendant.

“I’m not just a mate,” she breathed. “I’m something more.”

But before she could piece it together, a new sound rose outside.

Footsteps.

Several.

Voices.

“We found her scent.”

“Alpha Kael wants her alive but barely.”

Aria’s eyes widened. She backed away from the altar.

They were hunting her.

And this time, she wouldn’t run. She would fight.