Chapter 1: The Blood on the Altar

The cold edge of a silver blade pressed against my throat, slick with my own blood.

"Look at me, Evelyn," a voice commanded—a voice that used to whisper vows of forever into the crook of my neck.

I forced my eyes open, my vision swimming in crimson. Alexander stood over me, his golden hair dusted with ash, his red-gold eyes cold and devoid of the burning passion they once held. Behind him, the ruins of the Red Moon Altar stretched into the fog, smelling of sulfur, scorched earth, and genocide.

My breath caught in my throat, coming in ragged, shallow wheezes. A deep gash across my ribs burned like liquid fire. I wasn't dead yet, but the blood pooling beneath my back told me I didn't have minutes left.

"Why?" I rasped, the word tearing at my dry, iron-tasted throat.

"You brought corruption to the Five Packs," Alexander said softly, though his knuckles turned white against the hilt of his broadsword. "The madness in your blood was destroying everything we swore to protect. We had no choice."

Madness. They thought it was madness. They never knew about the dark entity coiled like a sleeping serpent inside my womb—the Black Soul Curse placed upon me by a shadow cult to turn the Luna of the realm into a weapon of destruction.

Alexander raised his sword. The silver gleam reflected the dying light of the crimson moon.

"May the Moon Goddess grant your soul the peace you denied us," he whispered.

The blade descended. A sharp, blinding agony tore through my chest, and the world plunged into absolute, suffocating darkness.

Gasp!

I bolted upright, my lungs expanding violently as air rushed back into my body.

A sharp, phantom pain flared in the center of my chest. My hands flew to my ribs, fingers clawing frantically through silk and lace, searching for the gaping wound, the torn flesh, the pool of warm blood.

Nothing.

My skin was smooth. Untouched. Cool to the touch.

"No... no, no, no," I choked out, my voice trembling uncontrollably. My heart hammered against my ribs like a trapped bird.

I looked around the room, my breathing fast and shallow. Heavy velvet drapes hung over high arched windows. The scent of sandalwood and freshly bloomed white roses filled the air. On the vanity mirror across the room, three beeswax candles flickered softly, casting warm shadows over a gilded parchment scroll.

My hands shook so violently I could barely unroll the perkamen.

The Grand Alliance of the Five Packs: Matrimonial Pact of Luna Evelyn. Year 1242, First Full Moon.

Three years ago.

This was the night of my wedding. The night I was bound in a political treaty to the five Alphas of the grand territories—a strategic union meant to hold a fragile peace across the realm.

I sank onto the edge of the bed, burying my face in my hands. The trauma of the execution still vibrated in my bones. I could still feel the cold steel slicing my flesh, still hear Alexander's hollow voice condemning me to death.

I died. They killed me.

A sudden, sharp cramp seized my lower abdomen, making me double over with a low groan.

It was a deep, throbbing heat—not the warmth of life, but a toxic, writhing sensation that spread through my lower belly. The Black Soul Curse. It had already awakened.

Memory flooded back in terrifying clarity. In my past life, this curse had slowly consumed my mind over three years, driving me to paranoia and unprovoked violence, ultimately forcing the five Alphas to execute me. But right before the blade ended my life, I had discovered the curse's cruel secret: the ancient venom feeds on isolation, but it can be neutralized and purified through the raw elemental energy of the five Alphas.

Without their elemental magic to balance my core, the poison would devour my sanity again. I would become the monster they believed I was, and the execution on the altar would repeat itself.

I have to survive.

A soft knock echoed against the heavy oak door, sending a jolt of pure terror straight down my spine.

"Evelyn?"

Alexander's voice.

My blood ran cold. The man who had driven a sword into my heart just moments ago—in my memory—was standing right outside my bedchamber. Panic clawed at my throat. I instinctively backed away from the door, my eyes darting around the room for a weapon, a hidden exit, anything.

Think, Evelyn, think! I scolded myself, pressing a hand over my racing heart. If you show him your terror, if you act suspicious, the alliance breaks tonight. You need his element to stay sane, but he cannot know you remember.

The iron latch turned with a heavy click.

Alexander stepped inside, shutting the door behind him. He wore his formal black leather tunic, his broad shoulders squared, his golden hair frame a strikingly handsome, unreadable face. His red-gold eyes scanned the room, settling on me.

He didn't look like an executioner right now. He looked like a weary Alpha entering a political arrangement he didn't fully trust.

"You're awake," Alexander said quietly, his tone measured and distant. "I thought the ceremonial wine would have put you to sleep by now."

I swallowed hard, forcing my trembling legs to hold my weight. I gripped the wooden bedpost behind me, hiding my shaking hands behind my back.

"I couldn't sleep, Alpha Alexander," I managed to say, forcing my voice to sound calm, though a nervous quiver betrayed my composure.

Alexander stepped closer, his sharp eyes catching the subtle tension in my posture. He stopped a few feet away, his brow furrowing slightly as he observed me.

"You look pale," he noted, his gaze lingering on my face. "And you're standing as if you expect me to draw a weapon."

My heart skipped a beat. His perception was razor-sharp. I had to pivot, to mask my fear before his natural Alpha suspicion turned into outright hostility.

"It is merely... the weight of the night," I lied softly, letting out a shaky breath as I deliberately lowered my head, playing the role of an overwhelmed bride. "Five packs united under one Luna. It is a heavy crown to bear."

Alexander remained still for a long moment, studying me with an intensity that made the skin on my arms prickle. Slowly, he took another step forward, closing the distance between us until I could feel the intense, natural heat radiating from his body—the pure fire element of the Golden Pack.

The moment his heat brushed against my skin, the painful cramp in my abdomen dulled ever so slightly. My body instinctively craved the proximity, even while my mind screamed in fear of the man standing before me.

Alexander reached out, his large, warm hand hovering near my face for a fraction of a second before his thumb gently brushed a stray lock of hair behind my ear. His touch was warm, but his eyes remained guarded.

"This marriage is a duty, Evelyn," Alexander murmured, his voice dropping into a low rumble. "We do not know each other well, and trust is earned, not signed on parchment."

He stepped back, breaking the contact, though his eyes never left mine.

"Get some rest," he said, turning toward the door. "Tomorrow, the other four Alphas arrive to finalize the territory borders. You will need your strength."

As the door closed behind him, I sank back onto the bed, letting out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding. My hands were still shaking, but the agony in my core had subsided just enough for me to think clearly.

I had survived the first confrontation. But as I stared at the closed door, a chilling realization washed over me: surviving Alexander was only the beginning. Tomorrow, four more men who had watched me bleed would walk through that door.