Andrew’s POVI didn’t think anything could shake me after everything we’d been through—Elara’s capture, the cult, the blade meant for my heart. But the thing crawling out of that seal wasn’t from this world.It was born from nightmares. A monster made of shadows and dark moon magic.It stretched as it rose, black tendrils spilling off its limbs like smoke, jaws clicking with bone and fangs. Its eyes locked onto us, glowing red-hot—rage, hunger, purpose.It was like it had a personal issue to settle with us.“Elara,” I said, backing up slowly, “we need to move.”She didn’t answer. She looked dazed, one hand clutching her chest like it hurt to breathe.“Elara,” I tried again, louder this time.She blinked hard, snapped back, and turned to me. “I can’t feel it.”“What?”“The bond. It’s gone.” Her voice cracked. “I—I think Jacob finished the ritual.”Shit. That explained the weakness in her posture, the pale cast to her skin. We didn't have time. The last thing I want is to be caught in t
Elara’s POVBranches clawed at my arms as we pushed through the forest, the moonlight barely cutting through the thick canopy overhead. My lungs burned. Every breath tasted like smoke and blood.Andrew’s weight leaned heavier and heavier against me, his steps sluggish, and uneven. He hadn’t spoken in minutes. I could feel the fever radiating off him.“Just a little further,” I whispered, mostly to myself. “Come on, stay with me.”It was crazy how our positions switched. The main reason why he was caught in this mess is to help me. Now, I was the one doing the helping.Luckily that stupid beast left after doing it's work leaving me with a very sick Andrew. I didn't know how far Michael and Lora had to go in order to get help.Noticing he hadn’t responded, I looked down as his grip on me loosened.“Andrew?” I stopped and turned, my heart hammering. “Hey. Look at me.”He swayed. His eyes blinked, unfocused. Then he crumpled.“No—no, no, no.” I dropped with him, catching his head before i
Elara’s POVI didn’t sleep. Not even for a second.Andrew lay on the cot, drenched in sweat, the veins along his neck pulsing black like ink trapped under skin. His breathing was shallow, ragged, the kind that made my heart skip every time there was a pause between inhales.Every few minutes, he let out a soft groan, like the pain was crawling through him in waves. I held his hand and tried to stay calm, but my grip trembled. I felt useless. Like watching someone drown while your legs were tied to the shore.The fire crackled, low and weak. It was still dark out, and the cabin smelled of blood, herbs, and unease.Lora had done what she could, but even she looked helpless when she stepped away. I kept asking what else could be done, and each time she avoided my eyes.Then Greg came back.He stood in the doorway, dripping with sweat from running, his jaw clenched like it was holding back a something.“What is it?” I asked.He didn’t answer right away. He looked past me, to Andrew. Then
Michael’s POVThe sound of Andrew’s growl ripped through the cabin like a blade.I shoved the door fully open and charged in, heart thundering. Elara was pressed against the wall, hands up, her eyes wide—not with fear, but with something worse. Desperation. She wasn’t running.Andrew stood in the middle of the room, half-shifted, his shoulders hunched and trembling, eyes glowing that same cursed red. He let out another guttural snarl and lunged again.Greg tackled him before he reached her.They hit the floor hard. Bones crunched, snarls erupted, and for a moment it was a disaster. I grabbed Elara and yanked her out of the way just before Andrew’s claws slashed the wall where she’d been.“Are you insane?” I barked at her. “He’s not himself!”“I know that!” she shouted, struggling against me. “But I saw him—Michael, he looked at me. He knew me for a second.”I held her tighter. “And the next second, he nearly ripped you apart.”“He wouldn’t—”“He did.”Greg grunted from the floor, stil
Elara’s POVThe second Lora whispered our names, something inside me snapped.Not like a breaking—more like an unlocking. Like a door swinging open in my chest, one I hadn’t known was there until it burst wide and swallowed everything.Andrew’s hand jerked in mine. I clutched tighter.Heat bloomed between our palms, searing and alive. Not fire, not pain, but raw energy. My breath caught. My pulse pounded in my ears, but I didn’t let go. I couldn’t.Light exploded from our joined hands. It spiraled into the air, coiling around us like a storm of stars. I heard someone—Michael maybe—call out, but the sound was distant, barely a whisper under the rush building in my skull.And then—I wasn’t in the cabin anymore.---I stood in a field of silver grass beneath a sky so dark it shimmered.The stars blinked like fireflies. The moon loomed low, full and watchful. The air smelled like rain and crushed violets.Andrew stood a few feet away, barefoot, shirtless, bathed in moonlight. Not the curs
Andrew’s POVThe name hit me like a punch to the chest.Dorian.I leaned back, dragging in air that wouldn’t fill my lungs. Elara reached for me, but I shook my head. I needed to analyze this. If she touched me, I wasn't sure if I will be able to reason this properly.Because now I remembered.Not all of it though. They were just like pieces of of a broken mirror, scattered and each one reflecting a moment I shouldn’t have forgotten.“Elara,” I breathed. “I knew him. We were like friends.”Her eyes didn’t flinch. That alone told me she’d already guessed. She was waiting for me to say it.“I met Dorian when I was a kid,” I said hoarsely. “He saved my life.”Greg, who had been silent near the door, turned around so fast the wall creaked. “What did you just say?”Michael’s body tensed beside him. “Andrew—what kind of saving are we talking about?”“I don’t know,” I snapped. “I can’t remember everything.”Elara stepped forward, her voice calm but edged. “Tell us what you do remember.”I sw
Greg’s POVThe walls still shimmered faintly from Elara’s outburst. The air felt heavier, like something had cracked open and left the world bleeding through.Is this the power of a god? If this is an effect it had before fully rising, then I wonder what will happen if this being finally came out.Andrew hadn’t moved from her side. He sat with her on the floor, her head resting against his shoulder, his hand holding hers like if he let go, she’d disappear.She might. Or worse, lose control again.I didn’t say that out loud.Michael stood near the window, watching the forest beyond the cabin. He hadn’t spoken in ten minutes, and that silence made me itch. If he didn’t know what was going on, we were in deeper trouble than I thought. We needed to figure this out or else, none of us will be able to last through it.I turned back to the stack of ancient books spread across the table, some half-burned, others older than anything I’d ever seen. I didn’t want to dig through more riddles, m
Andrew’s POVThe cemetery was too quiet. Even the birds had stopped singing.I stood at the edge of the wrought iron gate, my hand resting on the cold metal. The paint had long chipped away, leaving behind rust and claw marks. How did this happen? I wondered tracing the mark.Behind me, Elara’s breath hitched, and I turned just enough to catch the flicker of fear in her eyes.“I’m ready,” she whispered.I wasn’t sure she was. I wasn’t sure I was. But I nodded anyway, stepped aside, and let her pass through first.Michael grunted something under his breath, the kind of grumble meant to be heard. Greg followed, silent and sharp-eyed. Lora pulled her coat tighter, flipping through the notes she’d scribbled down from the old texts.This place had been hallowed ground once. Before the cult got their claws in. Before the spirits began to whisper from beneath the soil.We weren’t just walking into a cemetery—we were stepping into the belly of a trap.“Elara and I go first,” I said, stoppin
Elara’s POVThe first breath I took was like drowning in light.Not air—light. Thick and sharp and everywhere. It filled my lungs, my veins, my mind.Then I came back.And everything hurt.My eyes snapped open. The world rushed in too fast. The ruins. The silence. The blood on my hands. The echo of Andrew’s voice still whispering my name.He was holding me.His arms were wrapped around me like he was afraid I’d disappear again.“Andrew,” I croaked. My voice didn’t sound like mine. It was softer—richer. Like something else had laced itself through me.He jerked back just enough to look at me, his face streaked with blood and ash and tears. His lips parted in a shaky breath.“You’re awake,” he whispered. “Elara, you’re awake—”“I’m okay.” I wasn’t. But I had to say it for him.He exhaled and pressed his forehead to mine. “You scared the hell out of me.”I touched his jaw. “You offered your life.”“I’d do it again.”He kissed me, quick and desperate. It wasn’t gentle. It was real.I clun
Lora’s POVThe world cracked.Not metaphorically. Not in the dreamy, nice and poetic way people say when things fall apart.I mean the altar—centuries old, cursed by blood and time—split down the middle with a sound like the earth itself had screamed.I flinched as shards of stone flew past my face. One grazed my cheek, warm blood sliding down before I could even register the sting. But I didn’t stop moving.“Elara!” I shouted, weaving between the broken stones and bodies. I saw her in Andrew’s arms, limp and deathly still, and something in me nearly shattered too.Not her. Please, not her. She was my best friend and the last thing I wanted was for her losing her life in this wretched place.Then Greg—no, the thing that had been Greg—turned toward me. His eyes weren’t his anymore. Red and empty. His smile too wide, very wrong and completely twisted.My heart pounded, fists clenched. The god had taken him. It had used him.But now?Now even that thing was looking like it wanted to devo
Andrew’s POVThe moment Elara expended her power trying to keep the god locked, it seemed like everything had stopped to focus on this particular moment. I stood screaming her name as she tried to do the impossible. But when I watched her falling, I couldn't take it anymore."Elara!" I tore through the red-glowing haze that had blanketed everything. My feet slammed hard into the ancient steps, sliding as I reached her. She was limp. Her skin had gone pale, almost gray, and her eyes fluttered like she was on the edge of leaving me. “Stay with me, dammit. Elara, breathe.”She didn’t respond. Her lips trembled, breath catching in shallow bursts.The air cracked above us—the sky splitting as the Blood Moon hit its peak. I looked up.And saw it.The gate was open. Not just some door or portal. This was ancient, raw, and alive. It was jagged light framed by black mist, spinning slowly in the heavens above the altar. And from it, something moved, a hand reached out.The forgotten god.Did
Elara's POVThe scream that tore from my throat didn’t feel like mine.It came from somewhere deeper—bone-deep, soul-deep. My back arched against the pulsing altar, and the red light crashing down from the Blood Moon carved through me like I was paper. Everything inside me felt like it was breaking apart. Shattered pieces of a girl who used to be Elara.Then I heard him."Elara!" Andrew’s voice cut through the chaos.I clung to it.The pain was still there, like I was being ripped from the inside out, but I clung to the sound of him. It grounded me. Reminded me of who I was. Of the nights we used to spend togetger as a couple. As mates. Of the way he whispered my name when no one else was listening.I blinked through the red haze and found him kneeling beside me, hands cupping my face. His eyes wide. Terrified. His thumb brushed the tears off my cheeks, and I leaned into the touch like it was the only thing keeping me alive."You’re still here," I choked out."I’m not going anywher
Andrew’s POVThe world went quiet.It shouldn’t have. There was chanting all around me, the sky roaring with thunder, cultists pacing like wolves ready to tear the altar apart. But all I could hear was the sound of her heart breaking.Elara’s eyes were locked on me—pleading, desperate, furious.And I’d faltered.Fates, I’d faltered.The girl beside her—the replacement—was glowing now. Not metaphorically. Literally. The altar pulsed under her knees, and I could feel the magic reaching for her like it had once reached for Elara.This was the moment.One path ended in her survival. The other? Salvation for the rest of the world.I didn’t move.My chest felt like it was splitting in half. The prophecy I didn't know much about seemed not to care who she was. It just needed a vessel. And now it had one.But she wasn’t Elara.“You said you loved her,” Michael’s voice tore through the tension, sharp and shaking. “So act like it.”I blinked.“She’s dying,” Dorian said again from behind me. Cal
Elara’s POVI couldn’t feel my hands.Not because of the chains—they’d long since numbed my wrists. It wasn’t even the dark magic humming through the stone under me, or the pulsing weight of that fake moon bleeding into the sky.It was the woman.Her.The one Dorian dragged in like an offering. The one who looked like me. I didn't know how he managed to do something this sick all on his own but it had my hackles rising.She stumbled, dirt in her hair, blood down one arm. Her eyes met mine—and I saw myself.I froze.My mouth went dry.No.No, no, no. I have to get to the bottom of this.“What is this?” I croaked. My voice was rough, scraped raw from screaming earlier. “Who is she?”Dorian smiled, cold and smooth. “Insurance,” he said. “A vessel the altar will accept willingly.”“She’s not me.” I pointed out trying to figure out exactly was going on.“She’s enough,” he said. “The Blood Moon doesn’t care for names. Only bloodlines. Only sacrifice.”Behind him, Harrow stood silent, arms f
Michael’s POVI’d seen hell before.I’d seen blood-soaked battlefields, the ruins of old packs cursed by forgotten gods, and the aftermath of hunts gone sideways. But nothing—nothing—prepared me for the madness that unfolded once Elara vanished into the altar.One second she was there, blood burning on the stones. The next, the ground split and swallowed her like she’d never existed. Andrew dove after her, but the crack sealed fast—too fast.We stood frozen. Just for a beat.Then the sky changed.A deep rumble rolled across the clouds—slow and hungry. The black above us began to shift, bruising over with a sickly red hue. The true Blood Moon was still weeks off, but what rose above the mountain now? That was no moon. That was an imitation. Something summoned.Kieran raised his hands, shouting incantations in a language I’d only ever know can be found in hidden scrolls and dark books.The cultists around him echoed the words. Voices rising, and twisting like one. If it wasn't for sac
Andrew’s POVI didn’t look at Elara. Not when I heard Kieran say it. Not when that thing that looked like her stepped into the firelight with dead eyes and a mocking smile.Because if I looked at her right then, I might’ve lost the control I’d been holding onto since we stepped into this cursed clearing. And right now, she needed me steady. Not broken.The Gatekeeper. That’s what he called it.But that wasn't Elara—not really. It was a lie dressed in her skin. Some unholy mimic summoned to rattle us before the real bloodbath began.Greg cursed softly behind me, low and venomous.“We need to move,” he muttered. “Now. They’re baiting us.”Kieran was already turning, robes sweeping the earth as he walked back toward the rise of the altar behind him. “Follow,” he called. “Or run. The outcome doesn’t change.”He was right. If we decided to back down, it won't change anything. His men will give chase and he could use some other means to capture Elara.I didn't want to be away from her.I st
Elara’s POVAfter what happened in tombs, Andrew and I managed to escape that place and made it back to our friends.“Are you ok?” The words hadn’t even fully left Andrew’s mouth when a message hit me. Not through the air, not by any messenger, but inside my head, cold and direct.“Join us willingly, and we’ll spare the rest of your pack.”Kieran.I stood frozen in the middle of the shattered cemetery, my boots soaked from the broken ground that still bled magic. Smoke curled in lazy spirals from the scorched edges of the broken seal behind us. The earth trembled, subtle but steady, like it was breathing beneath our feet.I didn’t move. I didn’t speak.Andrew’s hand brushed mine. “What is it?”I met his eyes, hating what I was about to say. “It was Kieran. He’s offering a deal.”Michael spun around from where he was guarding the broken archway behind us. “What kind of deal?”Greg, who hadn’t spoken since we’d forced the cultists back into the tunnels, just narrowed his eyes. I didn’