The Moonlit Run

The air in the Black Ridge mountains at night felt like a thousand needles against my skin. I stood at the edge of the dark forest, dressed in borrowed leathers that felt like a second skin, watching as the pack prepared.

All around me, the sounds of shifting bone and tearing fabric filled the air. It was a cacophony of primal power. One by one, the warriors transformed into massive wolves—beasts the size of small horses with fur as dark as the shadows under the trees. Kaelin was among them, a sleek grey wolf with amber eyes that never left me. She growled, a low, vibrating sound that said, I am waiting for you to fail.

My stomach twisted into a knot of pure dread. I can’t shift. I can’t run like them.

"Focus, Elara."

The voice was right at my ear. Silas was standing behind me, still in his human form. He hadn't shifted yet, but his presence was so overwhelming it made the ground feel unstable. He placed his hands on my shoulders, and the heat from his palms seeped through the leather, grounding me.

"They are looking for a reason to tear you down," he whispered, his breath hot against my neck. "Don't give it to them."

"Silas," I whispered back, my voice shaking. "I... I'm not like them. I can't keep up."

He didn't know the full truth yet, but he sensed my fear. He turned me around to face him. In the moonlight, the scar on his face looked like a jagged silver river. He reached down, tucking a stray hair behind my ear.

"Tonight, you don't run as a wolf. You run as my mate," he said, his eyes glowing with an intense, golden light. "Stay close to my side. If you fall, I will catch you. But you must not stop moving. If you stop, the pack will see it as a surrender."

Before I could reply, he stepped back and let out a roar that shook the very leaves on the trees. His body blurred, his bones snapping and reforming in a terrifying display of Alpha strength. Within seconds, a massive black wolf stood where the King had been. He was easily twice the size of Kaelin, his fur like midnight and his eyes two burning embers of blue fire.

He nudged my hand with his cold nose, then let out a sharp bark. The Hunt had begun.

The forest was a blur of silver and shadow. The pack took off like a shot, a wave of fur and muscle crashing through the underbrush. I ran as fast as my human legs would carry me, my lungs already beginning to burn in the thin mountain air.

Left, right, jump. I memorized the path Silas cleared for me. He didn't pull ahead; he paced himself, his massive body acting as a shield against the jagged branches and the other wolves who tried to crowd my space.

Kaelin’s grey form kept darting close, snapping at my heels, trying to trip me into the dirt. Every time she did, Silas would let out a lung-vibrating snarl that sent her scurrying back. But I knew I couldn't stay on my feet forever. My heart was a drum, my vision starting to swim.

We reached the Black Gorge—a narrow stone bridge over a roaring river. This was the halfway point. To cross it, you had to be fast, or the wind would catch you.

"Keep going," I told myself, my breath coming in ragged gasps. Don't let them see you break. Don't let him regret buying you.

As I hit the stone bridge, the wind whipped my hair into my face. I stumbled. My boot caught on a jagged rock, and I felt myself pitching forward.

No!

I saw the grey blur of Kaelin lunging forward, not to help, but to shove. Her shoulder slammed into mine, and I felt the world tilt. I was going over the edge.

Time slowed down. I saw the dark water below, the jagged rocks waiting to claim the "dud" princess.

But then, a massive weight slammed into me from the other side.

Silas didn't just catch me; he lunged under me, catching my falling body on his broad, fur-covered back. I buried my fingers into his thick mane, gasping for air as he skidded across the stone, his claws throwing sparks against the rock.

He didn't stop. He carried me across the bridge and into a small clearing on the other side, away from the rest of the pack. He lowered his body, allowing me to slide off onto the mossy ground.

He shifted back instantly, his human form appearing through the mist, naked and unashamed, glowing with the heat of the run. He stepped toward me, his face a mask of pure, unadulterated fury.

"She pushed you," he growled, his voice a low vibration of thunder.

"I’m fine," I panted, clutching my chest. "I'm okay, Silas."

"You are not okay!" he roared, closing the distance between us. He gripped my waist, pulling me flush against his warm, hard chest. "You almost died, Elara! Why didn't you shift? Why didn't you defend yourself?"

The secret was right there, at the tip of my tongue. I looked into his blue eyes—eyes that were filled with a terrifying mix of anger and something that looked a lot like fear. Fear for me.

"I couldn't," I whispered, the tears finally stinging my eyes. "I can't, Silas. I don't have a wolf. I’m a dud."

The silence that followed was deafening. The only sound was the distant howling of the pack and the rush of the river below.

Silas stared at me, his hands tightening on my waist. I expected him to throw me aside. I expected him to call for my father and demand his money back. I expected the "Scarred King" to finish what Kaelin had started.

Instead, he leaned down, his forehead resting against mine. He let out a long, shaky breath.

"A dud," he repeated softly.

"You can send me back," I sobbed, my face buried in his chest. "I know I’m useless to a King. I can't give you the heirs they want. I can't lead a pack of warriors."

Silas pulled back just enough to look me in the eye. He reached up, his thumb brushing away a tear.

"Do you think I bought you for your wolf, Elara?" he asked, his voice unexpectedly gentle. "I told you. My wolf went silent when he saw you. He didn't want a warrior. He wanted you."

He leaned in, his lips inches from mine. "If you have no wolf, then I will be the wolf for both of us. But if anyone in that pack finds out your secret before you are strong enough to hold your own, I won't be able to stop them from challenging you."

"Then why keep me?" I whispered.

"Because," he said, his voice turning dark and possessive again as he pressed his lips to my forehead. "You are mine. Bought, stolen, or fated—it doesn't matter. You are the only thing in this world that makes the King feel human."

I looked up at him, and for the first time, I didn't see a monster or a buyer. I saw a man with scars just like mine—only his were on the outside, and mine were on the inside.

"Now," he said, his eyes flashing amber. "We go back. And you will walk into that hall like you own every stone of this mountain. Because as long as I breathe, you are the Luna of the Black Ridge."