Chapter 10: Darius

Elunara Moonstone.

“The name’s been shortened over time. Lost in the shift between realms. But her blood... I felt it the moment she crossed the boundary.”

“So the witch’s curse, the hundred-year drought, is now over.”

A muscle ticks in my jaw. “One hundred years of sons. No daughters born. Not until Elunara.”

Vastian sighs, low and steady. “The land recognized her before we did. The storm that cracked through the Hollow when she passed through the mist—it wasn’t just a storm. That was the seal breaking. The Hollow woke up.”

“And so did we,” I breathe.

I don’t speak the rest of what I’m thinking: that I haven’t felt this alive since the curse was cast. Since that treacherous witch shattered everything. She thought she could break me with loss. Thought her spell would trap us in eternity, longing for what we could never have. But magic doesn’t last forever.

And now she’s here.

“She’s not ready to know any of this yet,” Vastian says, almost like he’s trying to convince himself.

“I know. But my beast doesn’t care.”

He doesn’t reply, but his body tenses beside mine. “She asked about the sounds in the barn.”

That gets my attention. “What did you tell her?”

“Nothing. Let her think it was the wind. Her own mind. The Hollow playing tricks.”

I nod slowly. “That’s not a lie. Not really.”

We both know it is.

Because those weren’t tricks. They were truths echoing in a language she hasn’t learned yet. Moans in the dark. Movement in the trees. Magic so old it pulses through the roots of the trees and into the very dirt under our feet.

“She’ll change soon,” I say. “The Hollow will start pulling on her body. Her soul. It’ll reshape her.”

“Into what she was always meant to be.”

“A hucow. The last Moonstone hucow and heir to the line.”

Vastian exhales slowly. “And when that happens?”

I turn to him then. “We’ll feel it. It’ll be impossible to stay away.”

He looks at me with something deeper than concern. Something ancient. “You already feel it, don’t you?”

I don’t answer right away.

Because yes, I do.

Every time she looks at me, something inside me stretches toward her, desperate and primal. My control is thinner each hour she’s near. Her scent is already changing, becoming laced with the land. Her body hums with unfamiliar hunger.

She has no idea what she’s becoming.

“We’re going to have to tell her eventually,” Vastian says, but there’s hesitation in his voice.

“Not yet. She’s not ready.”

“Or we aren’t.”

I turn away, focusing on the fog that still clings to the edges of the woods.

The witch thought her curse would bind us to this land forever. Thought we’d rot here, yearning for something we could never touch. But she underestimated fate.

Soulmates don’t fade.

They find another way.

Elunara is proof.

“Do you remember the look in her eyes when she talked about that plant?” I ask, a smirk tugging at the edge of my mouth.

Vastian chuckles. “She said she kills all her plants.”

“And meant it.”

“That poor, shriveled little thing. She showed up with it like it was a treasure.”

We chuckle together at that. It’s been a long time since I’ve shared a smile, let alone laughed. The Moonstone line is known for their affinity with nature. Elunara’s heart is in the right place; it just turns out that she was in the wrong place. She was never meant for the world she was cast into, and her run of bad luck in life is a testament to that.

That plant won’t be her tenth victim. Far from it. It might take a little time, but it will connect to the land as she does.

“She’s raw and vulnerable,” I say. “It won’t take much for the Hollow to mold her.”

“And when it does?”

I meet Vastian’s gaze, no hesitation in mine. “She’ll belong to us.”

Vastian holds my stare for a long beat before he speaks. “You’re sure she’s a Moonstone?”

“My beast is. That’s enough.”

He looks away, eyes dark. “We need to be careful. There’s something in her. I can feel it. Power. Ancient. It’s not just the bloodline.”

I nod slowly. “I’ve felt it too.”

The Hollow trembled the moment she stepped onto the land. That wasn’t just a response to blood or body. That was something deeper.

“What if she’s more than a hucow?” Vastian asks.

“Then we’ll find out.”

“And if she’s dangerous?”

I smirk. “Then I’ll want her even more.”

He shakes his head, but the edge of his mouth twitches. “Of course you will.”

We stand in silence again; the wind whispering between us, the land humming low with secrets. The Hollow has waited a long time for Elunara. So have we.

“We’ll give her time,” I say. “Let her get used to the place. To us. But not too much time. The Hollow will change her whether she’s ready or not.”

“And when it does, there’s no turning back.”

“No,” I agree. “There isn’t.”

She’ll feel the heat build in her body soon. The ache. The strange dreams. She’ll crave things she can’t explain. And we’ll be there when she breaks open.

But until then, we wait.

Even as everything inside me claws to touch her, hold her, mount her.

Elunara belongs to all three of us.

And we—broken, cursed, timeless—belong to her.