Blood of the Moon

Ava's POV

The words were spoken with a terrifying mixture of horror and cold certainty. Caeser still knelt at the edge of the dark pool, his breathing ragged, the impossible, monstrous reflection shimmering in the water before him.

I stayed rooted behind the tree, gripping the bark so tightly my fingers ached.

I’d seen the shadow, the thing beneath his skin, the source of his silver blood and his missing scent. He was an Alpha cursed not just with bad luck, but with something actively predatory living inside him.

I slowly stepped out from the shadows. "I know," I said, my voice surprisingly steady, despite the way my heart was thrashing against my ribs. "I saw your reflection. The shadow. It’s what the Seer meant."

He didn't move, but his eyes, now a deep, furious silver, narrowed on me. "You saw it, Ava. Do you understand what it means? It means you have to run. Now."

He finally pushed himself to his feet, turning his full height toward me. He looked like an ancient, magnificent statue, carved out of stone and sorrow.

"The King's seer wasn't lying. This is no ordinary curse," Caeser said, his voice low and devoid of warmth. "The bloodline is tainted. The ancient story, the prophesies, they're all true. Every mate the Moon Goddess has marked for me—every single one—has died."

He took a slow step towards me, and I instinctively held my ground.

"It is not an affliction that affects me," he continued, the words dropping like bombs. "It is a corruption that spreads to those I am bound to. My energy, the moment it connects to another soul through the mark, is poison. It accelerates their life, then violently ends it. I am the vessel of a disease, a fate that kills."

He stopped a few feet away, close enough for me to feel the chill radiating off him, the absence of his scent more chilling than any perfume.

"You shouldn't even be alive after touching me," he repeated, his eyes fixed on my wrist where the mark throbbed. "When your hand slammed my throne, when you touched my injury—it should have killed you instantly, or left you screaming for death. You are defying the curse, and I don't know why. But I know it won't last."

I finally found my defiance. It felt like a small spark igniting the fear in my chest.

"You expect me to believe that I—a scullery girl, a slave—am a greater threat to the kingdom than the curse you carry?" I scoffed, taking a step toward him. "You want me to run so you can be alone again. So you can fight your father and this... this demon on your own."

"You want to call it a demon, go ahead," he snapped. "I call it the truth. Your refusal means nothing. The curse will claim you, Ava. It always wins. Leave now, before the cold and the fight finishes what the bond started."

I looked at the ground, then back up at his face. He wasn't asking; he was ordering, trying to save me in the only way he knew how—by pushing me away. But I was done being pushed. I was tired of being disposable.

"I won't leave," I said, my voice ringing with a conviction I didn't know I possessed. "The Moon Goddess marked me. I don't care if it's poison. If I’m going to die, I’d rather stand beside the man who risked his crown for me than go back to scrubbing floors for a King who saw me as an abomination."

He stared at me, his expression softening for the briefest, most devastating second, before hardening again. He opened his mouth, but whatever retort he had died on his lips.

A twig snapped nearby.

"We have company," Caeser growled, his body instantly tense. He pulled me behind him, his arm a barricade across my chest. "Patrol. They must have followed the horse's tracks."

Three large figures emerged from the trees, cloaked in thick leather and bearing the King's sigil. They were Elite Alpha Hunters

"Caeser Varyn," the lead Hunter, a massive brute with a scar across his chin, said in a grating voice. "The King demands your immediate surrender and the return of the female slave, dead or alive."

"You can tell the King to choke on his demands," Caeser returned, his voice dangerously low.

"Pity," the Hunter sighed, lifting a long, wickedly sharp spear. "The King wants her head. But we're authorized to use force on the traitor, too."

The air between them crackled with building power, but it wasn't the overwhelming surge Caeser had displayed in the throne room. He was exhausted. He was injured. He was spent from shattering the binding circle.

"Stay behind me, Ava," Caeser ordered, his body language communicating that he was prepared to sacrifice himself.

The Hunter didn't wait. He let out a harsh cry and hurled the spear with impossible force. It was aimed directly at Caeser’s chest.

I saw the exhaustion in Caeser’s silver eyes—the moment his inner wolf, his cursed power, couldn't summon the energy to shield or deflect. The spear was going to hit.

I didn't think. I reacted.

Before Caeser could even register my movement, I darted out from behind him. It was a reckless, insane move, but I had to intercept it. I thrust my hand out, not in a defensive posture, but straight toward the tip of the deadly weapon.

I closed my eyes, braced for the impact, the searing pain of a blade ripping through my palm.

The impact never came.

Instead, my entire body was flooded with that same, terrifying white heat I’d felt in the throne room. It was the mark on my wrist, but it had spread, consuming my whole hand. I felt a surge of energy—a power that felt ancient and utterly pure—exploding from my core.

I opened my eyes.

The spear was suspended in the air, mere inches from my palm. It wasn't just stuck; it was surrounded by a faint, silver light emanating directly from my outstretched hand, locked in an invisible, unmovable force-field. The spear was trembling, vibrating against the barrier, unable to proceed.

I looked down at my hand. The entire palm was now glowing with the same brilliant, ethereal silver as Caeser’s eyes. It was intense, like moonlight focused through glass.

The Hunter, the one who threw the spear, stopped dead in his tracks. His jaw dropped. The other two guards froze, their eyes wide with disbelief and dawning terror.

Caeser’s breath hissed out behind me. "What... what are you doing?"

I didn't answer him. I couldn't. All my focus was on the silver light, and the strange, undeniable power flowing from me to the spear. I felt a cold surge of certainty. I didn’t know how, but I knew I could push.

I mentally strained, forcing the energy forward. With a metallic clang, the silver light repelled the spear, sending it skittering backward into the forest.

The crescent moon on my wrist burned brighter, radiating a searing heat that was agonizing, but also intoxicatingly powerful.

The lead Hunter didn't move. He didn't rush me or draw another weapon. Instead, the massive, scarred brute slowly, agonizingly, sank to his knees in the frozen dirt. He dropped his head, his helmet falling to the side, revealing eyes glazed over with awe and fear.

He didn't look at Caeser, the feared Alpha. He looked only at me, Ava, the slave, still standing in the moonlight with her hand glowing silver.

He whispered the word in a cracked voice, disbelief dripping off it.

"Moon-Born...”