THE EMPEROR'S FORBIDDEN LUNA

‎ ‎The Blood Moon rose slowly over Blackwood Forest, staining the sky crimson. ‎ ‎The villagers believed that whenever the moon turned red, death walked beneath its light. No one dared enter the ancient forest on such nights. They claimed restless spirits whispered between the trees, monsters hunted in the darkness, and those who ventured inside never returned. ‎ ‎Tonight, every door in Ashford Village was tightly shut. ‎ ‎Except one. ‎ ‎Elara Ashford adjusted the worn leather satchel over her shoulder as she stood at the edge of the forest. Her long silver-blonde hair was tied into a simple braid, and a dark green cloak hid most of her slender figure from the cold night wind. ‎ ‎She looked up at the crimson moon. ‎ ‎"I don't have a choice," she whispered. ‎ ‎Inside the village, little Lily fought for every breath. The eight-year-old had been struck by Crimson Fever, a deadly illness that spread through the blood like fire. Every herb Elara knew had failed. ‎ ‎Only one cure remained. ‎ ‎The Blood Moon Herb. ‎ ‎It bloomed only once every five years beneath the crimson light of the Blood Moon, deep inside Blackwood Forest. ‎ ‎If she returned before dawn, Lily would live. ‎ ‎If she failed... ‎ ‎Elara closed her eyes for a brief moment before stepping beneath the towering trees. ‎ ‎The forest swallowed her whole. ‎ ‎An unnatural silence greeted her. ‎ ‎Even the insects refused to sing. ‎ ‎Moonlight barely pierced the thick branches overhead, leaving the narrow path wrapped in shifting shadows. Ancient roots twisted across the ground like sleeping serpents, and strange silver mist drifted between the trees. ‎ ‎Every story her grandmother had ever told echoed in her mind. ‎ ‎"Never trust the silence of Blackwood." ‎ ‎"Never follow voices calling your name." ‎ ‎"And if the Blood Moon watches you... pray it looks away." ‎ ‎She tightened her grip on the small lantern in her hand. ‎ ‎"I'm only here for the herb," she murmured, trying to calm herself. ‎ ‎The deeper she walked, the colder the air became. ‎ ‎Then— ‎ ‎A howl shattered the silence. ‎ ‎It wasn't the cry of an ordinary wolf. ‎ ‎It was deeper. ‎ ‎Powerful. ‎ ‎Filled with rage. ‎ ‎Elara froze. ‎ ‎Another howl answered from somewhere farther away. ‎ ‎Then came the unmistakable sound of metal crashing against metal. ‎ ‎Swords. ‎ ‎People were fighting. ‎ ‎Her heart pounded. ‎ ‎Bandits? ‎ ‎Hunters? ‎ ‎Or something far worse? ‎ ‎She knew she should leave immediately. ‎ ‎Instead... ‎ ‎She followed the sounds. ‎ ‎The clash of weapons grew louder with every cautious step. Branches snapped beneath her boots as flashes of silver light flickered through the darkness ahead. ‎ ‎She reached a rocky hill overlooking a clearing. ‎ ‎The sight stole her breath. ‎ ‎Bodies. ‎ ‎Dozens of them. ‎ ‎Men dressed in black armor lay scattered across the blood-soaked ground. Broken swords, shattered shields, and fallen banners littered the battlefield. ‎ ‎The smell of iron filled the cold air. ‎ ‎In the center stood a single man. ‎ ‎His clothes were torn and soaked in blood. ‎ ‎A long black cloak fluttered behind him. ‎ ‎He leaned heavily on an enormous silver sword planted into the earth. ‎ ‎Even wounded, he stood like a king refusing to kneel. ‎ ‎Around him lay every one of his enemies. ‎ ‎Defeated. ‎ ‎Elara stared in disbelief. ‎ ‎Had... had one man done all this? ‎ ‎The stranger suddenly swayed. ‎ ‎His sword slipped from his hand. ‎ ‎He collapsed onto one knee. ‎ ‎Before Elara could react, three masked assassins emerged from the shadows. ‎ ‎"So," one sneered, "the mighty wolf has finally reached his limit." ‎ ‎Another raised a glowing black blade. ‎ ‎"This ends tonight." ‎ ‎The wounded man tried to stand. ‎ ‎His legs failed him. ‎ ‎The assassins charged. ‎ ‎Elara's body moved before her mind could stop it. ‎ ‎"Look out!" she shouted. ‎ ‎All three assassins turned toward her. ‎ ‎The distraction lasted only a heartbeat. ‎ ‎But it was enough. ‎ ‎The stranger's silver eyes flashed open. ‎ ‎A terrifying pressure exploded across the clearing. ‎ ‎Wind howled violently. ‎ ‎The earth trembled. ‎ ‎The first assassin was thrown backward as though struck by an invisible force. ‎ ‎The second barely raised his sword before a silver s***h cut through the air. ‎ ‎He fell instantly. ‎ ‎The third tried to flee. ‎ ‎He managed only three steps. ‎ ‎A streak of silver light crossed the darkness. ‎ ‎Silence followed. ‎ ‎The assassin collapsed. ‎ ‎Elara stood frozen. ‎ ‎She had never witnessed such terrifying power. ‎ ‎The stranger remained standing for only a few seconds before the strength left his body once again. ‎ ‎He collapsed onto the blood-covered ground. ‎ ‎This time... ‎ ‎He did not move. ‎ ‎Elara waited. ‎ ‎Nothing. ‎ ‎Slowly, she climbed down into the clearing. ‎ ‎Every instinct screamed at her to run. ‎ ‎Yet another voice spoke louder. ‎ ‎If you leave him... he'll die. ‎ ‎She knelt beside him carefully. ‎ ‎He was young. ‎ ‎Perhaps twenty-six or twenty-seven. ‎ ‎His face was impossibly handsome despite the blood covering it. Sharp features, dark hair, and pale skin made him seem almost unreal. ‎ ‎Several deep wounds crossed his chest and shoulders. ‎ ‎His pulse was weak. ‎ ‎Far too weak. ‎ ‎"You fought all of them alone..." she whispered. ‎ ‎She looked around the battlefield again. ‎ ‎No survivors. ‎ ‎Whoever these men were, they had wanted this stranger dead. ‎ ‎Elara bit her lip. ‎ ‎"I can't leave you." ‎ ‎With surprising effort, she lifted one of his arms over her shoulders. ‎ ‎He was much heavier than he looked. ‎ ‎Step by painful step, she dragged him away from the clearing. ‎ ‎The journey through the forest felt endless. ‎ ‎More than once she stumbled. ‎ ‎More than once she nearly gave up. ‎ ‎But every time she looked at his pale face, she forced herself onward. ‎ ‎Finally, she spotted the abandoned hunter's cabin her grandmother had once shown her years ago. ‎ ‎The wooden structure leaned slightly with age, but it still stood. ‎ ‎She pushed the door open. ‎ ‎Dust filled the air. ‎ ‎A fireplace rested in one corner. ‎ ‎An old bed occupied another. ‎ ‎Perfect. ‎ ‎After great effort, she laid the stranger onto the bed. ‎ ‎Then her healer's instincts took over. ‎ ‎She cut away the ruined fabric around his wounds. ‎ ‎Several cuts were deep. ‎ ‎One stab wound had narrowly missed his heart. ‎ ‎Whoever attacked him had intended to kill him. ‎ ‎Elara heated water over the fire. ‎ ‎She cleaned each wound carefully despite the blood staining her hands. ‎ ‎She crushed healing herbs with a stone bowl. ‎ ‎Mixed them into a paste. ‎ ‎Wrapped clean bandages around his injuries. ‎ ‎Hours slipped by unnoticed. ‎ ‎Outside, the Blood Moon slowly crossed the sky. ‎ ‎Inside the cabin, only the crackling fire broke the silence. ‎ ‎At one point, the stranger stirred. ‎ ‎His breathing became uneven. ‎ ‎"No..." he muttered weakly. ‎ ‎"They... cannot..." ‎ ‎His voice faded again. ‎ ‎Elara placed a cool cloth on his forehead. ‎ ‎"You're safe now." ‎ ‎Though somehow... ‎ ‎She wasn't certain she believed those words herself. ‎ ‎Near midnight, she finally remembered why she had entered the forest. ‎ ‎The Blood Moon Herb. ‎ ‎She hurried outside. ‎ ‎Just beyond the cabin, growing beside a cluster of ancient stones, silver flowers glowed beneath the crimson moon. ‎ ‎Their crimson leaves shimmered like drops of fresh blood. ‎ ‎She smiled with relief. ‎ ‎"I found it." ‎ ‎Carefully harvesting several stems, she stored them inside her satchel. ‎ ‎"Lily will live." ‎ ‎For the first time that night, hope warmed her heart. ‎ ‎When she returned to the cabin, she found the stranger exactly as she had left him. ‎ ‎She sat beside the bed. ‎ ‎"You really caused quite a mess," she said softly. ‎ ‎"Who are you?" ‎ ‎No answer came. ‎ ‎She sighed. ‎ ‎The exhaustion of the long night settled over her. ‎ ‎Her eyelids grew heavy. ‎ ‎She rested her head against the side of the bed. ‎ ‎Just for a moment. ‎ ‎Outside, dawn slowly approached. ‎ ‎The crimson moon began to fade. ‎ ‎The first rays of sunlight slipped through the cracked window. ‎ ‎At that exact moment— ‎ ‎The stranger's eyes flew open. ‎ ‎Silver. ‎ ‎Brilliant. ‎ ‎Glowing like twin moons. ‎ ‎Elara gasped and stumbled backward. ‎ ‎The air inside the cabin instantly turned icy. ‎ ‎The fire flickered wildly. ‎ ‎An invisible force swept through the room. ‎ ‎"What...?" ‎ ‎The stranger stared at her with complete disbelief. ‎ ‎His expression shifted from confusion... ‎ ‎To shock... ‎ ‎To something she couldn't understand. ‎ ‎Suddenly, a searing pain shot through Elara's left wrist. ‎ ‎"Ah!" ‎ ‎She clutched it. ‎ ‎A glowing silver symbol slowly appeared on her skin, shining brighter with every passing second. ‎ ‎Across the room, the stranger looked at his own wrist. ‎ ‎The exact same mark burned there. ‎ ‎His breathing stopped. ‎ ‎His silver eyes widened. ‎ ‎"No..." ‎ ‎His voice was barely a whisper. ‎ ‎"No... that's impossible." ‎ ‎He lifted his gaze to meet hers. ‎ ‎The entire world seemed to hold its breath. ‎ ‎Then, in a tone filled with utter disbelief, he spoke the words that would change both of their lives forever. ‎ ‎"Impossible..." ‎ ‎"You're my mate." ‎