Chapter 4
1543 Words
CHAPTER FOUR — Whispers of Prophecy
The forest was silent.
No howls, no movement, just the hollow echo of what had happened. Smoke lingered where the
fires had burned, curling low around the trees like ghosts refusing to leave. Dawn was still hours
away, but the air had the fragile stillness that comes after violence — a stillness that carried both
relief and dread.
I sat by the river, washing the dried blood from my hands. It didn’t matter how many times I
scrubbed, the stains felt permanent. My reflection wavered in the water — pale skin, wide eyes,
dirt streaked across my cheeks. I hardly recognized the girl staring back.
The girl who fought. The girl who didn’t die.
I should have felt proud, but all I felt was hollow.
Behind me, footsteps approached — steady, familiar. I didn’t need to look up to know it was
Zion.
“You haven’t slept,” he said quietly.
“Could you?” I asked, my voice soft, brittle as glass.
He didn’t answer, only sat down beside me. For a while, we just listened to the water. The
current whispered, pulling at the reflection of the moon.
Finally, I spoke. “He said I belong to him.” The words tasted bitter. “He knew my name, Zion. He
came for me.”
Zion’s jaw tightened. “He won’t touch you again.”
“He used magic,” I whispered. “I saw it — the others froze, they couldn’t breathe. That wasn’t
normal.”
“No,” Zion agreed. His eyes, dark and unreadable, flicked toward the forest. “That was ancient
power. Forbidden power.”
Something cold crept up my spine. “And he said it’s in my blood.”
He turned to me then, eyes sharp. “Don’t start believing his words.”
“Then explain how I survived last night,” I said, my voice rising. “Explain why the rogues called
for me. Why I can feel things — power — inside me when I fight. You saw it too.”
For a moment, Zion didn’t speak. Then he exhaled slowly. “There are stories,” he said, his tone
reluctant. “Old ones. From before packs had names. They say there were wolves born of both
moon and shadow — wolves whose blood carried power that could command others. They
were called the Moon-Blessed.”
“And you think that’s what I am?”
“I think,” he said carefully, “that you’re something the Alpha will fear if he ever learns the truth.”
Fear. The word hung between us, heavy and real.
By the time the sun broke through the trees, the clearing was filled with the scent of smoke and
ash. The pack was gathering the fallen, wrapping them in linen for burial. No one spoke to me.
Every glance carried blame — quiet, sharp, suffocating.
“She’s the reason they came,” I heard Verona whisper to Kiera as I passed. “We should’ve left
her to the rogues.”
Kiera’s face softened, but she said nothing. That hurt more than Verona’s words.
Lionel stood at the center of the courtyard, barking orders like nothing had changed. His voice
carried the same venom as always, but now it had power behind it — Maverick’s trust. The
Alpha hadn’t been seen since dawn.
Zion stayed close, silent as ever, his presence the only shield I had.
When the Alpha finally appeared, the pack went still. Maverick’s expression was carved from
stone, his eyes cold as winter. He said nothing at first — just looked at me, then at the burned
gate where the rogues had entered.
“This attack will not go unanswered,” he said finally, his voice steady, dangerous. “But first — we
deal with the weakness that invited it.”
My chest tightened. Every head turned toward me.
Lionel smiled faintly. “You heard him.”
I didn’t move. Couldn’t.
Maverick stepped closer, his shadow falling over me. “Aurora Amaris,” he said, his tone low.
“You will explain why our enemies demanded your name. You will explain why they call you one
of their own.”
“I’m not—”
“Silence.” His voice cracked like a whip. “You will speak when spoken to.”
Zion stepped forward then, his voice firm. “Alpha, the girl did nothing wrong. If not for her, half
your warriors would be dead. She fought.”
Maverick’s gaze shifted to him, slow and deliberate. “And who are you to speak for her?”
“I am the one who saved her life,” Zion said evenly. “And the one who saw the truth — the
rogues didn’t come for the pack. They came for her. That means someone wanted her found.”
The murmur that rippled through the crowd was thick with fear and curiosity.
“Then she’s cursed,” someone hissed.
“Or chosen,” another whispered.
Maverick’s eyes glinted. “Enough.” He turned back to me, his expression unreadable. “You will
remain confined until I decide what to do with you.”
“No,” Zion said flatly.
The Alpha’s head turned sharply, disbelief flashing in his eyes. “Did you just defy me, outsider?”
Zion didn’t flinch. “If you lock her away, you’ll destroy the only person who can help you
understand why they attacked.”
For a heartbeat, I thought Maverick might strike him. The tension was a blade pressed between
them. Then, to my surprise, the Alpha stepped back.
“Fine,” he said coldly. “She will stay. But under watch.” His gaze flicked toward Lionel. “You’ll see
to that.”
Lionel’s smirk widened. “Gladly.”
By dusk, the air had turned cold. The pack had dispersed, but I could still feel their stares even
when I was alone. Zion stayed near the training grounds, sharpening his blade, his movements
methodical, quiet.
I sat beneath the old oak tree where the moonlight broke through in soft ribbons. My body
ached, but sleep wouldn’t come. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the stranger — his grin, his
red eyes, the way he said it’s written in your blood.
Was he right?
The river murmured nearby, and for a moment, I thought I heard whispers in the sound — soft
voices threading through the water’s rush. I turned sharply, my pulse racing. The air shimmered
faintly, almost glowing where the moon touched it.
And then I saw her.
A figure — faint, ghostly — standing across the river. She looked like me. Same face, same
eyes, but older, wiser, sadder. Her hair flowed like silver in the moonlight.
I couldn’t breathe.
“Who—who are you?” I whispered.
Her voice drifted across the water like wind. “The part of you that remembers.”
The world tilted. “This isn’t real.”
But when she smiled — tired, knowing — the ground beneath me trembled. The river’s
reflection shattered like glass, and her image dissolved into ripples.
I stumbled back, heart pounding. “Zion!” I called out, but my voice barely carried.
He was there in an instant, sword half-drawn. “What happened?”
I pointed to the river, breath shaking. “Someone—someone was there.”
He scanned the darkness, eyes narrowing. “There’s no one.”
“I saw her,” I insisted. “She looked like me.”
Zion’s hand found my shoulder, firm but careful. “You need rest.”
I shook my head. “No. You don’t understand. She spoke to me.”
“What did she say?”
I hesitated, the words catching in my throat. “She said… she was the part of me that
remembers.
He frowned deeply, his expression unreadable. “Then it’s beginning.”
My stomach turned cold. “What is?”
He looked toward the forest, where shadows swayed between the trees. “The truth your blood
has been hiding.”
The wind picked up suddenly, carrying a faint whisper through the leaves — my name, soft and
distant. Aurora.
I turned, searching the darkness, but saw nothing. Still, the sound lingered, curling around me
like breath.
Zion’s hand dropped to his sword again, his eyes scanning the tree line. “We need to move.
Now.”
“Why?” I asked, my heart racing.
“Because,” he said quietly, “something out there just answered your call.
- Writer
