The moon had never looked so bright — or so watchful.
Darius stood alone on the balcony of the fortress, the night air sharp and cold against his skin. The celebration fires below had long since burned out, leaving only embers and the faint sound of the river cutting through the valley.
He should have felt peace. He should have felt victory.
But instead, there was only the whisper.
“We are not finished, Alpha.”
The words slipped through his thoughts like a blade through silk, soft but impossible to ignore. Every night since the Blood Eclipse, the voice had grown stronger — not loud, but constant, patient.
And then there was the mark.
It pulsed faintly beneath his skin, just above his wrist — a crescent intertwined with twin fangs. When the light of the moon hit it, it shimmered blac
