BOUND TO HIS MOON

CHAPTER TWO

Serene’s bare feet pounded against the cold, wet cobblestones as she sprinted through the narrow alleys behind Stephansdom. Rain lashed her face, soaking her thin white nightdress until it clung heavily to her body. Her lungs burned with every breath, but she refused to stop.

Keep moving. Don’t look back.

She made a sharp turn onto a dimly lit street near the Albertina Museum, hoping the brighter area might offer safety. A few late-night pedestrians under umbrellas glanced at her strangely — a barefoot girl in a drenched nightdress running like death itself was chasing her. She considered screaming for help, but the memory of her grandmother’s impossible strength and the intruders’ cold professionalism stopped her. Who would believe her? Who could even help?

Her phone was still in her hand. She had grabbed it on instinct before fleeing. She tried dialing emergency services while running, but her wet fingers slipped on the screen. Before she could try again, the phone buzzed.

Unknown number.

She answered without thinking.

“You can’t outrun blood, Serene,” the calm voice said softly. “It always finds you.”

The call ended.

A chill colder than the rain shot down her spine. She shoved the phone into the small pocket of her nightdress and pushed harder, veering toward the brighter lights of the Ringstrasse. Maybe a tram. Maybe a crowd. Anything.

But they were faster.

She skidded around a corner into a quiet courtyard alley lined with old Baroque buildings. Her heart dropped.

Six men stepped out from the shadows, calmly blocking both ends of the passage. Rain dripped from their dark coats. Their expressions were focused, professional.

“There she is,” the leader said. “Alive and untouched. That’s how the master wants her.”

Serene backed up, chest heaving. The strange fiery warmth she had felt during the escape flared again — not a surge of power, but a sharp clarity. She could hear the men’s steady breathing, smell the wet wool of their coats mixed with something metallic. Her legs felt stronger than they should after running so far.

She made a choice.

Instead of begging, she charged the smallest gap between two men, swinging wildly. Her fist connected with one man’s jaw. He grunted in surprise. She kicked another in the knee, earning a curse. For a few desperate seconds, she fought with everything she had — elbows, nails, pure fury.

But six against one was impossible.

They overpowered her quickly. Strong hands seized her arms and shoulders, pinning her wrists behind her back. Another grabbed her waist, lifting her off the ground as she thrashed. They were rough but careful — no unnecessary blows, no wandering hands. Just efficient restraint.

“Stop fighting,” the leader ordered. “You’re only making this harder on yourself.”

Serene twisted and kicked, teeth clenched. “Let me go! What do you want from me?!”

The men didn’t answer. They simply held her tighter, preparing to drag her away.

Then everything stopped.

Slow, heavy footsteps echoed from the dark end of the alley.

A tall figure emerged from the shadows, stepping into the faint glow of a streetlamp. He was well over six and a half feet, broad-shouldered and powerfully built, with a commanding presence that made the rain itself seem to hesitate. Faint gray-green skin, and golden eyes that glowed with cold arrogance. Twin hooked blades rested easily in his large hands.

The six men stiffened in recognition.

“Kael,” the leader growled. “This doesn’t concern you. Walk away.”

Kael’s lips curled into a mocking sneer. “Your master sends dogs to chase one terrified human girl through Vienna and you expect me to mind my own business?” His deep voice dripped with disdain. “Release her. Now. Or I’ll enjoy carving you up and sending the pieces back to him.”

The men didn’t retreat. “She belongs to our master,” the leader said, signaling his men.

They released Serene, shoving her roughly against the wall, and attacked.

Kael moved like a force of nature. He stepped into the first man’s strike, snapped his arm with brutal efficiency, and drove a hooked blade deep into his shoulder. “Pathetic,” he snarled. “You call this a fight?”

He tore through the rest with ruthless, arrogant precision — spinning, leaping, using his height and raw power to crush them against the cobblestones. Bones cracked. Blood mixed with rain. Within moments, all six men lay groaning on the ground.

Kael flicked the blood from his blades and glared down at them.

The leader coughed, pushing himself up slightly. “This isn’t over. We’ll come back for the girl. The master always gets what he wants.”

Kael laughed coldly. “Tell your master to send better dogs next time. Now crawl away before I change my mind.”

The injured men helped each other up and limped into the darkness, disappearing down the alley.

Kael turned toward Serene.

She was slumped against the wall, soaked and trembling with exhaustion. He inhaled deeply, then wrinkled his nose in clear disgust.

“Human,” he muttered. “You smell completely human. How disappointing.”

Serene stared up at the towering stranger, too exhausted to speak.

Kael crossed his arms, looking down at her with irritation. “Get up, kitten. I didn’t waste my time on those fools just to watch you sit there like a pathetic, useless human.”