Chapter Seven – The Brother’s Howl

The night air was thick with the echo of that broken howl.

Mira was already moving, boots slapping wet asphalt as she sprinted through the alley and out onto the silent street. Her blood pounded louder than the wind. It couldn’t be him. It wasn’t possible. But her wolf wasn’t questioning it, she was clawing, howling, aching toward the sound.

“Mira, wait!” Grey was just behind her, injured but fast.

She didn’t wait.

She turned sharply down a narrow side street, past a rusted chain-link fence, and into the abandoned courtyard of an old church. The air changed here. Heavy. Charged. Like something sacred had been burned away long ago.

And then she saw him.

A figure, barely standing in the moonlight. Leaner than she remembered. Older. But unmistakable.

He turned.

Her breath caught.

“Liam,” she said.

He didn’t speak. His eyes, one golden, one bloodshot, searched hers like he was trying to make sure she was real.

“I thought you were dead,” she whispered.

He gave a shaky smile. “Same.”

Grey moved beside her, tense. Protective. “This is your brother?”

She nodded.

Liam’s gaze flicked to Grey, sharp. “Alpha.”

“Who took you?” Mira asked. Her voice was low, cracked with the weight of years.

“The Ghost Howlers,” Liam said, voice rasping. “They didn’t just kill our pack. They kept some of us. I escaped. Barely.”

Mira moved forward slowly, eyes burning. “Why didn’t you find me?”

“They said you were dead,” Liam murmured. “Burned in the fire. I stopped being me after that.”

Her heart shattered again. “Liam…”

“I’m not safe,” he said, backing up. “They’re following me. I didn’t want to lead them to you, but when I scented you…..

….Mira, they’re calling you the Red Moon.”

Grey stiffened. “What did you say?”

“They call her the Red Moon Luna,” Liam said. “They believe she’s the one. The one the prophecies speak of. They think she’s the key to something buried… something ancient.”

“I’m not,” Mira said quickly. “I don’t care about prophecy.”

Liam looked at her with pity. “Doesn’t matter if you care. It’s already in motion. You’re not just a healer anymore. You’re marked.”

“Then I’ll unmark myself.”

“You think you have a choice?”

Grey stepped forward. “He’s right. This isn’t just about bloodlines. It’s about power. And power doesn’t ask permission.”

Mira turned to her brother. “Why now? Why find me now?”

Liam’s jaw tightened. “Because the Ghost Howlers are moving. They’ve been silent for years, waiting for a sign. And then you resurfaced. You used your wolf. They felt it. Now they want to bring you in.”

“They tried,” she said darkly. “Didn’t end well for them.”

“They’ll try again. With more.”

A sharp wind cut through the alley. Mira smelled it instantly.

Smoke. Burnt metal. Blood.

Grey caught it too. “We need to move.”

But it was too late.

Three shadows emerged from the alley behind them. Armored. Armed. The same insignia crescent and daggers marked across their chests.

“Run,” Liam said.

Mira stepped in front of him. “No.”

One of the soldiers raised a weapon. Grey lunged.

The first shot fired, Mira ducked, rolled, and came up with a blade from her boot. She threw it without thinking, dead center to the soldier’s throat.

The second charged. Mira blocked his swing and spun, slamming her elbow into his jaw, then driving her knee into his stomach.

Grey took the third, barely. Still wounded, he growled through the pain, his claws digging deep into the soldier’s chest before tossing him into a wall.

They stood breathing hard.

But the danger wasn’t over.

The downed soldier,….Mira’s blade still in his throat pulled something from his coat.

A detonator.

“DOWN!” Grey shouted.

Mira tackled Liam, throwing him behind the old stone bench. Grey hit the ground just as the charge detonated, sending shockwaves and dust through the courtyard.

Silence followed.

Mira’s ears rang.

Her head swam.

She looked up to find Liam on his side, coughing.

Grey emerged from the debris, limping, bloodied again.

“That wasn’t an assassination attempt,” Mira said, stunned. “That was a message.”

“They want you scared,” Liam rasped. “They want you to run.”

“I’m done running.”

Mira stood slowly and turned toward Grey. “You said something back at the apartment. About a seer.”

He nodded, wiping blood from his temple. “He lives in the wastelands outside rogue territory. Doesn’t see visitors. But he remembers everything.”

“Even the truth about the Red Moon?”

Grey’s voice was grave. “Especially that.”

“Then we go to him.”

“Mira…” Liam began.

She looked at him. “I’m not a child anymore. I need to know what they think I am. I need to know why they want me so badly.”

Grey nodded. “Then we move at dawn.”

But as they turned to leave, Mira caught one last thing.

On the chest of the third soldier, burned deep into the armor, was a number.

XIII.

Thirteen.

Her stomach dropped.

“Grey…”

He saw it too.

“That’s not just a symbol,” he said.

“No,” Mira whispered. “It’s designation. Thirteen… like me.”

Grey met her eyes.

“They’re not just hunting you,” he said. “They made you.”

End of Chapter Seven

………………….

The mark "XIII" links Mira to the Ghost Howlers in ways she never imagined. Could her bloodline be more than a myth, could it be manufactured? And what will the war seer reveal about her creation?