LOGIN(Luca’s perspective)
I paced the dimly lit room, the weight of everything I’d just learned pressing down on me like a boulder on my chest. My fists clenched at my sides, and each breath felt harder to draw. Ethan stood across the room, arms crossed, frustration and concern etched on his face as he watched me. The Seer, with her silvered hair and eyes clouded by visions, sat in the corner, waiting for me to stop wrestling with the anger boiling inside.
"How the hell did this happen?" My voice trembled, edged with fury. I raked a hand through my hair, barely containing the storm within. "How did my bite do this? How did it mark Quinn—make her his?"
The Seer’s gaze met mine, calm and unyielding. "Your bite didn’t create the mark, Luca. It merely awakened something that was already there. Something tied to a force we’ve been sensing in the shadows."
I froze, my chest tightening. "You mean the one who claimed Quinn? That thing? What does he have to do with me?"
Ethan pushed off the wall, his voice low but taut. "The bite shouldn’t have triggered anything like this. You didn’t even mean to bite her—it was a mistake. Yet now she’s... marked."
The Seer nodded, her voice grave. "It’s part of a curse woven into certain wolves, like you. This figure has control over wolves of a particular lineage. When one of his wolves bites someone, they’re marked, tied to him in ways even you can’t control. Your bite activated something dormant in Quinn."
My stomach twisted. His wolves? My wolves? "You’re saying I’m connected to him? That this was his plan all along?"
"Not by choice," she replied softly. "It is said that the Echo was once an Alpha and before he turned into the Echo, he had children. I have always sensed an ancient magic, predating us all, and I believe his bloodline runs through yours. When you bit Quinn, you triggered the connection he’s been waiting for."
A sickening realization washed over me. The Echo—my enemy—was my ancestor. This was too much to bear.
Ethan’s frustration deepened, his fists tightening. "But what about Nick’s nibble? That was nothing—he barely touched her. How did that set all this off?"
The Seer sighed, folding her hands. "Nick’s bite was the spark, but it was your bond with Quinn as her mate and your bite that acted as the catalyst. Together, they activated the curse."
"So, I marked her for him. This is my fault. She’s in danger because of me."
"Not just danger," the Seer said, her voice tinged with sadness. "He’s tied to her now, Luca. He can see through her and control parts of her. Unless the curse is broken, she’ll never be free."
The air felt suffocating, the weight of it overwhelming me. I’d never wanted to hurt Quinn—never wanted her life to be tied to this nightmare.
Ethan’s voice cut through my spiraling thoughts. "We need to tell her, Luca. She’s already feeling different—sensing things. We can’t let her face this alone."
My resolve hardened, but fear gnawed at me. "I’ll do whatever it takes to break this curse. I won’t let him have her."
The Seer’s voice was steady but grim. "The bond between you and Quinn has made the curse stronger. But there is still hope. The curse can be broken."
Before I could respond, a chill ran down my spine, my mind flashing to the figure who had claimed her—the Echo.
The air felt heavier than before, and I could barely keep the rising panic in check. "What are we really dealing with here?" I muttered, my frustration bleeding through. "First, Quinn’s marked; now this Echo wants to claim her as his own. What the hell is this?"
The Seer closed her eyes, searching through visions before she spoke. "The Echo isn’t just a creature—it’s the manifestation of a curse, older than any of us."
"A curse?" Ethan’s brow furrowed. "How does that connect to Quinn?"
The Seer’s gaze settled on me, and her next words dropped like a hammer. "Quinn is a descendant of the family that caused the curse. The Echo is tied to their bloodline."
A wave of cold dread washed over me. "The Echo’s after her... because of her bloodline?"
"Yes," the Seer said softly. "And she’s on the brink of awakening powers that could either break or fulfill the curse. The Echo senses that, which is why it’s drawn to her."
Ethan cursed under his breath, running a hand through his hair. "So, Quinn’s not just caught in this—she’s the key."
The Seer leaned forward, her eyes gleaming. "Quinn is a Lunar Guardian."
I blinked. "A what?"
"The Spirit of the Moon has chosen her to protect the balance between humans and wolves. Her powers are awakening because of her connection to you and the curse. But to fully awaken, she’ll need to undergo a ritual during the next Blood Moon."
Ethan stared at me, his eyes wide. "So, Quinn’s not just some human stuck in the middle of this—she’s a force of nature."
I swallowed hard, the weight of her destiny sinking in. A Lunar Guardian. Quinn was more important than any of us had known. But her power came with a price.
"If she fails the ritual," the Seer whispered, "your bond will break, and she will be lost to the Echo."
The room went still. My pulse hammered in my ears, the weight of it all threatening to crush me.
"This Echo," I said slowly, my mind racing. "He’s taken the form of the man who claimed her, hasn’t he? He’s the one behind the curse."
The Seer nodded grimly. "Yes. He believes Quinn is his, but the curse can be broken."
I straightened, determination flooding my veins. "Then that’s what we’ll do. We’ll protect Quinn—no matter what it takes."
The Seer stood, her gaze unflinching. "The Blood Moon is coming, Luca. You don’t have much time."
“When is it coming?” I asked reluctantly.
The Seer narrowed her eyes and looked at me grimly. “In two fortnights.”
My eyes widened in terror. “That’s in four weeks!”
The Seer nodded and reiterated her warning. "As I said, you don’t have much time."
I nodded, my resolve steeling. I’d face the Echo, I’d break this curse, and I’d protect Quinn.
No one would take her from me. Not now. Not ever.
Something just shifted… and I’m not responsible for what happens next
The sun was setting low behind the towering Blackthorn estate, casting streaks of amber and crimson across the sky. The place looked more like a fortress than a home, with its wrought-iron gates and endless rows of perfectly trimmed hedges. My heart was already in my throat, but when I saw her walking toward us, I felt my chest tighten like a vice.Casey.Her smile was polite but sharp, the kind that felt like it was carved from marble—cold, unyielding, and fake as hell. She strolled up with the grace of someone who knew she was untouchable, her sleek navy-blue dress hugging her figure just enough to be classy but not so much as to be vulgar. Her eyes flicked to me, lingering for a moment longer than necessary, and I knew she was assessing me. Calculating.“They’re waiting for you inside,” Casey said, her eyes darting to Cale like she wasn’t sure if she should curtsy or bow. Her gaze barely touched me. To her, I wasn’t a threat. Not yet, anyway.Cale’s grip on my arm tightened as if h
Being "perfect" was never something I aimed for, but here I am, sitting in a high-end café dressed in a sleek beige outfit that hugs every inch of me like a second skin. My legs are crossed just so, my posture elegant and deliberate. The soft leather of the chair beneath me feels too plush, like it knows I don't belong here. But I make it look like I do. My every movement is measured, calculated, and graceful. I lift my coffee cup to my lips, pinky slightly raised, and sip slowly. My eyes stay forward, focused, even though I can feel the stares of passersby through the glass window.They always look. Men. Women. Even the baristas try to be subtle but fail miserably. I can’t blame them. It’s the aura I’ve built. I’m not just another woman sitting in a café. I’m the Luna. Cale’s Luna.The girl who once flinched at the mention of his name is gone. She’s buried so deep I doubt I could dig her up if I tried. This version of me? She walks beside him into meetings with alphas of other packs,
The smell of rosewater and jasmine clung to my skin, the oils still fresh from the omega women’s hands. My skin felt slick and soft, like I’d been molded from wax and dipped in honey. They’d scrubbed every inch of me, their faces blank as they worked. No words. No kindness. Just hands rough from duty. My hair was pulled back, loose curls spilling over my shoulders, and the dress they’d given me—if it could be called a dress—was nothing more than a slip of silk clinging to my body like a second skin. Every part of me was on display. Every flaw. Every scar. Every reminder of what had been done to me.But they didn’t see that. No one did. Not anymore.I caught my reflection in the mirror across the room and barely recognized myself. Pale blue eyes, sharp and unyielding. Not the dull, lifeless stare I’d seen for years. My gaze flickered with something I hadn’t seen in a long time. Control. Purpose.He thinks he’s testing me.“Trinity,” I whispered in my mind, my lips unmoving."I’m here,
CONTENT WARNING: This chapter contains contents of violence that may disturb sensitive readers and can be triggering for survivors of trauma and abuse.(Quinn’s perspective)Pain used to be a constant. Not the kind that fades after a few hours or even days. No, this was the kind that buried itself so deep in your bones that it felt like it would be part of you forever. But now… I don’t feel it anymore.The first time I noticed it, I thought I’d gone numb. It wasn’t a slow process either—one day, I was screaming and thrashing under their blows; the next, I just... stopped. The barbed wire bat hit my ribs with a sickening thwack, but I didn’t flinch. The guard cursed under his breath and swung it again, harder this time. Still nothing. My skin tore, and my bones ached, but there was no reaction. No sound. No satisfaction for them.I’d won that day. Not because I fought back. No, because I didn’t. They couldn’t break me anymore. Their weapons, their fists, their fire—none of it mattered.
(Luca’s perspective)I used to believe in things like love. Loyalty. Humanity. I thought those things made us strong—made me strong.They didn’t. They made me weak. A fool. A dreamer who thought he could keep his world intact with hope and sheer determination.But hope is a liar.It whispered in my ear for months, telling me she’d come back. That I’d find her. That Quinn would be okay.She wasn’t.I knew it the moment I burned the last picture of her. The edges curled under the flame, the image of her face shrinking into black ash. That photograph was the final piece of her—the last link to the boy I used to be.The boy who searched for her.The boy who loved her.Gone.I stood there, staring into the fire as the smoke curled into the night sky. My hand tightened around the lighter until my knuckles turned white. This was it. The final step.I let the lighter fall into the flames, and with it, I let Quinn go.I used to think I was different from my father. That I could lead this pack
CONTENT WARNING: This chapter contains contents of violence that may disturb sensitive readers and can be triggering for survivors of trauma and abuse.(Quinn’s perspective)I lay on the cold stone floor, the chill biting into my skin, but it was nothing compared to the ache in my bones. Every part of me throbbed, a dull reminder of what I had become—a prisoner, a plaything for the pack to break.My breathing was shallow, each inhale laced with pain. Ribs—probably cracked. Lips—split and crusted with dried blood. Eye—swollen shut. The room stank of iron, sweat, and fear. My fear. Their victory.They’d beaten me again today, just like yesterday. And the day before that. And the day before that.At first, I thought I’d die from it. I hoped I would. Death would’ve been a mercy, an escape. But no. My cursed blood healed me. Every single time. Bones snapped back into place, bruises faded, and cuts stitched themselves together. I was the perfect punching bag—never staying broken long enough







