Chapter 88: Whispers Beneath the Moon

The forest was silent except for the whisper of the wind threading through the tall pines. Silver moonlight washed over the clearing, casting an ethereal glow that made everything feel suspended in time. Serena stood there, her arms wrapped tightly around herself, trying to steady the wild beat of her heart.

Last night’s conversation with Elias had stirred more than memories. It had left her restless, aching in places she hadn’t even realized were empty. His words replayed again and again: “You are loved. By more than one.”

Her breath caught.

She didn’t want to admit how deeply Elias’s closeness affected her—how his fierce protectiveness and quiet strength called to the vulnerable parts of her. But there was also Theron. His presence was a storm, impossible to ignore. Every time he looked at her, it was as though he saw straight through to the soul she tried to hide.

She was torn, not just between them—but between who she used to be, and who the moon kept demanding she become.

“You’re up early,” Elias said, stepping into the clearing.

His voice was gentle, careful.

“I couldn’t sleep,” she replied without turning.

“Dreams again?”

She nodded slowly. “They’re getting worse. Louder. It’s like the moon itself is trying to speak to me.”

He moved closer, the warmth of his body a steadying force. “Then maybe it’s time to stop running from it. Maybe it’s time to listen.”

Serena finally looked at him. The moonlight caught the sharp angle of his jaw, the soft curl of hair at his temple. There was something both ancient and tender in his eyes—like he’d seen lifetimes of war and still chose softness.

“I’m scared,” she confessed. “Everything is moving so fast. The prophecy. The bond. What I might become.”

Elias didn’t hesitate. He reached out and gently cupped her cheek, brushing his thumb along her skin. “You’re not alone in this. Whatever comes, I’m with you.”

The sincerity in his voice made her throat tighten. For a moment, she leaned into his touch, letting herself feel what she’d been trying to suppress for so long.

But then—

A presence. A shift in the air. Her heart recognized it before her mind did.

Theron.

He stepped out from the shadowed edge of the trees, his tall figure rigid, golden eyes unreadable. He looked between them, and something dark flickered behind his gaze.

“I see I’ve interrupted,” he said coolly.

Serena stepped back, instinctively creating space. Her heart was a confused mess of longing and guilt. “You didn’t.”

Theron’s gaze flicked to Elias’s hand still lingering near her face. “Are you sure?”

Elias squared his shoulders. “We were just talking.”

Theron gave a humorless smile. “That’s all you’ve ever done. Talk.”

Serena’s brows drew together. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means I’m tired of watching you dance around what’s already burning between you two,” Theron snapped, eyes blazing now. “I may be a bastard, but I’m not blind.”

Elias tensed, stepping in front of Serena, but she touched his arm and gently moved past him.

“Stop it—both of you,” she said. “This isn’t about choosing one of you. Not now. Not like this.”

Theron’s jaw clenched. “Then when, Serena? After the war? After the prophecy devours what little choice you have left?”

Her lips parted in shock. “You think I want this fate? You think I enjoy being the center of some ancient bloodline power struggle?”

“No,” Theron said, softer now. “I think you’re terrified. But I also think you’re braver than either of us deserve.”

The weight of his words hung heavy.

Serena looked between them—Elias, steady and loyal; Theron, fierce and conflicted. And she, torn like a thread between them both.

Suddenly, the wind shifted again—this time colder. The trees rustled in warning. All three of them turned, sensing it.

A glowing pulse lit the forest floor at their feet. Elias stepped forward.

“It’s the symbol again,” he muttered, kneeling.

Etched in silver fire, the ancient rune glowed in the soil, spinning slowly until it settled into the shape of the triple moon—the mark of the Seer’s prophecy.

Serena’s vision blurred. Her knees buckled, and both men reached for her at once.

Visions struck.

She saw fire—pack warriors clashing with shadow wolves. Blood. Roaring. A throne made of bone. And then her own face, eyes glowing with a light that wasn’t hers.

When she came to, her breathing was shallow, her skin clammy.

Elias held her firmly. “You saw something.”

“A war,” she whispered. “But not just any battle… it’s coming soon.”

Theron’s face darkened. “Then we need to prepare. No more secrets.”

He stepped forward and held out a small scroll. Serena blinked in surprise.

“What’s that?”

“A blood oath,” he said. “From the Shadow Council. They’ve agreed to meet. But only with you.”

Her eyes widened.

“The council of exiled shifters? I thought they vanished decades ago.”

“They’ve been watching. And they believe you might be the one to reunite the fractured bloodlines. Or destroy them.”

A hush fell.

Serena’s hands trembled as she took the scroll. This was it. The next step into a destiny she hadn’t asked for but couldn’t escape.

And both Elias and Theron stood beside her, shadows and light.

For now.