Blood Bound Luna

Selene Duskbane knew she was going to die the moment she felt the burn. At first, it was a whisper beneath her skin, a tremor, a warning, a secret her blood was trying to confess. Then it spread, crawling up her spine, blooming like fire beneath her bones. Selene Duskbane knew what it meant. The stories her mother told in candlelight weren’t myths after all. She dropped the bucket she’d been carrying. Water splashed across the dirt floor, hissing where it met the heat rising from her skin. Her mother looked up from the hearth, eyes wide with something worse than fear. “No,” she breathed. “Not you. Not yet.” But it was too late. The mark had chosen. Selene stumbled against the table, every nerve alight. “Mama…make it stop.” Her mother’s voice sounded faint. “Once it starts, nothing can stop it.” The pain seared deeper, centering between her shoulder blades. She could feel the lines etching themselves into her flesh an ancient sigil she’d only seen drawn in blood on old parchment. The mark of the Veyrath heir. Claimed. Bound. Doomed. Mira stood frozen in the doorway, a hand pressed to her mouth. She’d been spared again. Always spared. Her mother gripped her shoulders. “He’s coming for you. The heir. Dorian Veyrath.” Selene’s breath hitched. The name felt like an omen. “Then I’ll run,” she said, though her voice trembled. “There’s no running from a bond,” her mother whispered. “Every few generations, one Duskbane daughter is chosen. They need us. Our blood keeps them alive.” “Alive?” Selene hissed. “It kills us!” Her mother’s eyes glistened. “Each woman lasts longer than the last. The curse weakens, little by little. Your grandmother survived eight months. Your great-aunt, eleven. You could be the one to break it.” Break it. Or die trying. The mark pulsed hotter, dragging at her chest northward, toward the fortress that haunted every Duskbane dream. “I won’t go,” Selene said through her teeth. “I won’t be another name in their graves.” The door suddenly flung open. Wolves flooded the cottage, silver and monstrous, their half-shifted forms glowing with the light of the moon. Their growls vibrated through the floorboards. Selene stumbled back, but her legs wouldn’t move. The bond rooted her in place. And then he entered. Dorian Veyrath didn’t need an introduction. The air changed before he even stepped through the door dense, electric, charged with the weight of power and inevitability. He was tall, built like something the gods regretted making, with eyes of molten gold and a face carved in restraint. His presence filled the cottage, making the fire flicker and the wolves still. When his gaze found hers, the mark burned like recognition. “Selene Duskbane,” he said, voice low, detached. “You’ve been marked.” “I didn’t ask for this,” she snapped. “Neither did I.” He stepped closer, the bond tightening, invisible but merciless. “The goddess doesn’t care what we want.” Her mother moved between them. “Please she’s just a girl.” “She’s marked,” Dorian said simply. “That makes her mine.” Selene’s heart stuttered. “I’m not yours,” she said arrogantly. . “I’ll never be yours.” Something flickered in his eyes…regret, maybe. Or something else.. ““Fight it all you want,” he said, his voice low enough that only she could hear. His breath was warm against her ear, the words curling like smoke. “But in the end, you’ll come. They always do.” Selene jerked her head up, fury giving her strength. She was so close she could see the flecks of amber hiding in his molten-gold eyes the kind of color that looked too alive to belong to something cursed. There was a scar cutting clean through his left eyebrow, a mark that only made him look more untouchable. But it was the hollowness beneath it all that stopped her breath. The exhaustion etched into the corners of his mouth. The quiet grief he never let himself show. He looked like a man who’d stopped believing in good things long ago. “I’ll go,” she said, and watched surprise flash across his face. “But don’t mistake compliance for surrender.” She yanked her arm free, standing tall even though her knees threatened to give. “I’m not going to die for you, Dorian Veyrath. And I’m sure as hell not going to break for you.” Something dangerous flickered behind his eyes interest, maybe. Or the kind of respect a predator gives prey that bites back. “We’ll see,” he said simply, his tone a promise and a threat all at once. Her mother grabbed her hand, tears trembling in her lashes. “Selene, no-” “I have to, Mama.” Selene’s fingers tightened around her mother’s. She tried to memorize the warmth, the smell of herbs and smoke clinging to her skin. “If I run, the bond will drag me back anyway. At least this way, I choose.” “There’s no choice in this,” her mother said bitterly. “There’s always a choice,” Selene whispered. Then she looked up at Dorian, her chin lifting like a blade. “I’ll come with you. I’ll do what needs to be done. But I want something in return.” He raised a brow, faint amusement ghosting across his otherwise unreadable face. “You’re negotiating?” “Why not?” she shot back. “You need me alive long enough to carry your heir. That gives me leverage.” A muscle ticked in his jaw. For a long moment, the only sound in the room was the crackle of fire. Then, in a voice low and measured, he asked, “What do you want?” “My family stays safe.” Her gaze flicked to her mother and sister. “No matter what happens to me, they remain untouched. No retaliation. No punishment. No convenient accidents. Your word as heir.” Dorian’s golden stare didn’t waver. He studied her like she was an equation that didn’t quite make sense. Finally, he nodded. “Done.” “Swear it,” she said quietly. “On your wolf.” His jaw tightened, but after a beat, he pressed a hand to his chest. “I swear on my wolf and my bloodline your family will remain safe and untouched, regardless of what transpires between us.” The air hummed, thick and sacred. A wolf’s oath could not be broken. Selene exhaled shakily. “Then let’s get this over with.” She started for the door, but her mother caught her arm again. “Selene-” “Don’t.” Selene blinked hard, forcing the tears back. “Don’t make this harder than it already is.” Her mother pulled her into a desperate hug. “You’re stronger than you know,” she whispered fiercely. “Stronger than any of them. Remember that.” Mira hugged her next, trembling. “Come back,” she choked. “Please come back.” Selene couldn’t promise that. She knew she couldn’t. When she pulled away, Dorian was waiting at the threshold, his wolves forming a silent wall behind him. “One more thing,” she said, her voice steady despite the storm inside her. “I want to know everything. About the curse. About what happened to the women before me. No secrets. No lies.” Dorian’s gaze flickered approval, maybe. Or pity. “You’ll know everything,” he said. “For what good it will do you.” Bitterness sharpened the edges of his words. He wasn’t mocking her. He was mourning something. Selene stepped out into the night. The cold slapped her across the face, and the moon hung low, heavy, watching. Wolves waited outside, their eyes glowing gold and silver in the darkness. Dorian swung onto its back in one smooth motion, every line of his body taut and graceful. Even seated, he radiated control like the night itself had bent around him and stayed there. Then he extended his hand to her. “Come.” Selene stared at that hand, at the faint gold veins glowing beneath his skin. The mark on her back pulsed in response, as if the curse itself reached for him. She hesitated only a second before she took it. His grip was strong but gentle too. He lifted her effortlessly, settling her before him on the saddle. His body was solid heat at her back, steady and unyielding. The bond thrummed with pleasure at the contact. Selene felt sick. “Hold on,” he murmured. His arm came around her waist firm, not gentle. The horse reared once, then leapt forward, devouring the ground. They rode through the forest like a storm. Wolves flanked them on all sides, their howls slicing through the wind. Trees blurred into streaks of silver and shadow. Selene looked back only once. Her cottage was shrinking behind her, warm light spilling from the doorway where her mother and sister stood small, fragile, still. Then the forest swallowed them whole. “How long?” she shouted over the pounding hooves. “To reach the fortress? Two hours.” “No.” She twisted slightly, enough to meet his gaze. “How long do I have? Before the curse takes me.” Dorian’s expression was unreadable, carved from stone. “The bonding ceremony is tomorrow night. After that…” He exhaled slowly. “We’ll see.” “And if I can’t?” “Then you die.” His tone didn’t flinch. “Like all the others.” Anger surged hot in her chest. “You really know how to make a girl feel special.” Something flickered in his eyes again something faint and darkly amused. “I’m not here to make you feel special,” he said. “I’m here to keep you alive long enough to break a curse that’s older than both of us combined. And that means no lies. No mercy. Just the truth.” “Fine.” Selene faced forward, wind whipping her hair into her face. Ahead, Veyrath Fortress rose from the horizon black spires clawing at the moon, its walls bleeding silver mist. “Then tell me,” she said, her voice barely audible over the rush of air. “What happens during the bonding ceremony?” Dorian’s arm tightened around her waist, and when he finally spoke, his voice was low enough to tremble against her skin. “The bond has marked you,” he said. “Tomorrow night, it will consume you.” His breath brushed her neck, warm and cruel and final. “And there’s nothing either of us can do to stop it.” As the mark burned itself quiet, Selene looked towards the fortress that awaited her. The last woman had lasted three months. She’d give herself six.