Chapter Forty

Tremor in the Shadows

The wind changed before dawn.

I felt it in my bones first — a deep, sick tremor that rolled through the forest like a heartbeat gone wrong. The air tasted of iron and smoke. Even the shadows stirred restlessly, whispering warnings I couldn’t understand.

Louis slept fitfully beside the dying fire, his fever finally broken. His breathing was steady, his color returning. But I couldn’t rest. The unease in my chest grew stronger with each passing moment, the mark on my palm pulsing painfully.

Something was wrong.

I rose quietly, stepping to the edge of the ridge. The sky above was bruised with the fading remnants of night, but the moon still glowed blood-red through a veil of clouds. My wolf shifted uneasily inside me.

Do you feel that? I whispered.

Yes, she answered, her voice low and tense. Something old has awakened.

The trees creaked in the wind. The shadows around my feet began to tremble, no longer calm, but restless — afraid.

Then, through the stillness, came a sound — faint, distant, but unmistakable. A scream.

Not human. Not wolf. Something in between.

I spun, eyes blazing silver-black, instinct driving me forward. Before I could move, Lucien appeared from the darkness like smoke solidifying into form.

“Stay,” he said, his tone sharp.

“What was that?” I demanded.

He didn’t answer right away. His gaze swept across the forest, his jaw tight. The shadows that usually moved with calm obedience were trembling violently, fracturing into thin strands of mist.

“Lucien?” I pressed.

His voice came low. “Magic. Ancient. The kind that shouldn’t exist anymore.”

My pulse quickened. “From Derrick?”

“No.” His eyes met mine, and for the first time since I’d known him, I saw something that looked like unease. “This… is something different.”

The wind surged again, carrying the faint echo of a laugh — soft, feminine, cold. The sound crawled beneath my skin.

Lucien’s head snapped toward the sound. His expression hardened. “Her.”

“Who?”

“Mona.”

The name hit like a spark in dry air. “Derrick’s Luna?”

“She’s no Luna,” Lucien said darkly. “Not anymore.”

He stepped to the edge of the ridge, the shadows pulling close to his boots. “She’s called something she can’t control. I felt the shift. The blood moon magic has merged with an ancient curse. Foolish woman—she’s made herself a vessel for something older than any of us.”

The forest seemed to shudder at his words.

I stared at him, heart hammering. “What does that mean?”

“It means,” he said grimly, “that the balance between light and dark just broke.”

I clenched my fists, the mark on my palm burning. “Then we stop her.”

Lucien turned toward me sharply. “No. You can’t. You’re not ready for that kind of power. What she’s unleashed feeds on emotion, on guilt, on the need for vengeance. If you face her now, she’ll twist that darkness inside you until it eats you alive.”

I stepped closer, my anger rising. “And what do you expect me to do? Sit here while she burns the world?”

Lucien’s eyes narrowed. “You’ll do what I tell you.”

I met his glare, refusing to back down. “You don’t command me.”

The silence that followed was sharp enough to cut. The air between us vibrated — my shadows rising, his pressing down, colliding in a storm of heat and cold. For a heartbeat, the world around us dimmed, the fire sputtering to black.

Then he exhaled slowly, and the tension eased. “You are impossible,” he said finally, voice low.

“Maybe,” I muttered. “But I’m alive because I don’t listen.”

His gaze softened, though only slightly. “There’s a difference between bravery and suicide.”

“I’ll take my chances,” I said.

Lucien turned away, watching the horizon where the faint red glow still lingered. “If she’s bound herself to that power, she’s not the same woman you once knew. When next you face her, you may have to kill her.”

My chest tightened. “Then I’ll do what I must.”

He looked back at me — and for the first time, there was something almost human in his expression. “Don’t let vengeance be the reason.”

I swallowed hard, saying nothing.

The forest was quiet again, but the unease remained. Somewhere far beyond the ridge, Mona’s new power was spreading — invisible threads of blood magic crawling across the land, warping the balance Lucien had sworn to protect.

Louis stirred behind me, murmuring my name in his sleep. The sound anchored me, reminding me of why I couldn’t stop.

“I’ll face her,” I whispered, staring into the crimson dawn. “Not for vengeance. For balance.”

Lucien said nothing, but I felt the faint touch of his shadows brush against mine — not in command, not in warning, but in silent acknowledgment.

The war had begun.

And this time, it wasn’t just between wolves.

It was between the light, the dark… and everything in between.

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