The Moon Goddesses Heir and the Rogue Prince - Book One of The Moonbound Legacy

The night her story began was drowned in blood. The forest was alive with screams—the guttural roars of wolves clashing, the snap of bones, the tearing of flesh. In the middle of the chaos, a young woman staggered, clutching a swaddled infant tight against her chest. Her face was pale, her breaths ragged, her golden eyes filled with terror and love. “Run, Liora!” her mate shouted. His wolf—massive, silver as moonlight—lunged at a black-furred attacker, teeth sinking into its throat. “Take her and run!” “I won’t leave you!” she cried, tears streaking her blood-stained cheeks. But it was too late. The enemy pack closed in, their howls reverberating like a death knell. Their leader—Alpha Victor—emerged from the shadows, eyes gleaming with cruel satisfaction. “So this is the child,” he sneered. “The Moon Goddess’s bloodline reborn. A pity she won’t live long enough to matter.” The woman’s heart clenched. She clutched the newborn closer, whispering fiercely, “You are more than they know. More than they can break. Live, my little star. Live.” Alpha Victor’s warriors struck then, faster than she could move. Steel flashed, claws raked, and in moments her mate fell with a strangled roar, his silver wolf collapsing into the dirt. She screamed, her voice raw with grief, but she fought with everything she had—fangs bared, claws slashing—until she, too, was dragged down. When the killing blow came, she twisted her body to shield the infant. Her last breath was a prayer whispered into the baby’s ear. “Blessed by Selene, you will rise. Forgive me… live.” And then the world went silent. The child wailed, her cry carrying into the night sky like a lament. Even the moon seemed to shiver, its light falling in silver strands upon her tiny form. Somewhere beyond the veil, the Moon Goddess wept for her descendant. But Alpha Victor did not. He scooped up the infant, sneering at the bloodied corpses of her parents. “Another mouth to feed. Another coin in my pocket. The Goddess’s blood or not—she’ll be nothing more than cattle in my orphanage.” And so the nameless child was carried to the pack’s orphanage, a place of shadow and despair. She grew among the forgotten—newborns who never knew their mothers, toddlers beaten for crying, children traded like livestock. The walls reeked of blood and terror, echoing with sobs that never ended. She learned young that kindness was punished, that innocence was shattered, and that survival meant standing between the strong and the weak. By twelve, she had taken the lashings meant for the younger ones. By fourteen, she had fought off warriors twice her size to protect little girls from being dragged away. By sixteen, she had scars running across her back and arms, proof of every time she chose to shield another. And always, the fate of the orphan loomed like a curse. Eighteen. The age when innocence ended. Some were sold—to packs, to traders, to men with greedy hands. Some were imprisoned, locked away until their spirits broke. Some were traded like bartered goods, exchanged for coin or favor. And some were killed outright, their bodies buried in unmarked graves. No orphan reached nineteen. But she was different, though no one knew. It was on the night of her tenth birthday that the truth came. The orphanage was silent, save for the muffled cries of babies and the snores of exhausted children. She sat alone by the cracked window, knees pulled to her chest, staring at the swollen moon. Then she heard it. A voice, soft as the wind, but strong enough to make her wolf stir for the very first time. “My child.” She froze, her heart hammering. The voice was inside her, yet it felt like it poured from the moon itself. “Do not fear. You are mine. You are born of my blood and my blessing. Though the world seeks to break you, you are not nameless. You are Selena.” Her breath caught. A name. Her name. “Selena…” she whispered, tasting it on her lips like the sweetest secret. “Guard it well,” the Moon Goddess warned, her voice threaded with sorrow and power. “Speak it to no one until the night of your eighteenth year. On that night, the name will awaken what sleeps inside you—strength greater than any who have lived or died. It will be your shield, your weapon, and your truth.” Tears burned her eyes. For the first time, she felt seen. Not an orphan. Not a nameless girl in rags. But someone chosen. Someone destined. “Selena,” she whispered again, clutching the secret to her chest. The Goddess’s voice faded like a sigh in the wind, leaving her staring up at the moon, her heart aching with both hope and fear. From that night onward, she carried her name in silence. She never told the other children. She never dared whisper it when Victor or his men prowled near. To the world, she was still no one. But in her heart, she knew the truth. She was Selena, child of the Moon. And on her eighteenth birthday, destiny would finally come to claim her.