Secrets Carved In Stone
1400 Words
The silence after the guard’s announcement was louder than a roar.
Damon’s smile never wavered. But I saw the way his fingers curled slightly, the tick in his jaw, the faint tension that vibrated through the air around him like the storm before lightning strikes.
He wasn’t just suspicious. He was planning something.
“Where exactly was the body found?” Kael asked, stepping forward.
Damon’s eyes flicked to him. “Funny you care. That’s pack land, not yours.”
Kael didn’t back down. “We both know borders don’t matter when something unnatural’s killing wolves.”
For once, I agreed with him.
“Enough,” Damon snapped, turning to me. “Elara. Come with me. Now.”
The command in his voice was Alpha-deep, tugging at the bond like a leash. I felt it try to root me to the floor, to pull my feet toward him.
But something had changed in me. Something that had woken when I shifted. When I remembered what it felt like to have a choice.
I didn’t move.
“I said—” Damon took a step toward me, but Kael stepped in between us so fast it was a blur.
“Don’t,” Kael growled.
The tension crackled like lightning between them, a heartbeat away from violence.
“I’m not your Luna anymore, Damon,” I said softly, but firmly. “You gave up that right the moment you laid your hands on me.”
Gasps rippled from the guards nearby, like I’d just said something sacrilegious.
Damon’s smile died.
“You think you’ve got power now?” he hissed. “Because you shifted again? Because your little knight in shining fur showed up? You’re nothing without me.”
“Then why are you so scared of me?” I shot back.
His nostrils flared, and for a second, I thought he might strike me then and there. But instead, he turned with a snarl.
“Both of you. Come see the body. Maybe that’ll wipe the rebellion out of your eyes.”
The grave was shallow. The smell hit us before we saw her.
Even with the body partially decomposed, I could tell she’d been young. Barely past her first shift. Her limbs were twisted unnaturally, like she’d fought to the very end. And on her stomach—carved in ragged lines—was the same symbol we’d seen burned into the creature’s flesh.
A jagged circle with a s***h through the middle. It looked like a broken moon.
Kael crouched beside her and touched the symbol gently, reverently. I could see the storm in his eyes.
“I’ve seen this before,” he muttered. “Years ago. Out east. Right before a pack vanished overnight.”
“What is it?” I asked.
He didn’t answer right away.
But Damon did.
“It’s called the Omen Mark,” he said smoothly. “A warning. And a curse.”
I turned toward him. “You knew what it was this whole time?”
Damon shrugged. “I’ve done my research. Something you’d know if you hadn’t been busy sulking in the greenhouse.”
The dig was sharp, but I let it roll off me.
“What does it mean?” I demanded. “Why now? Why here?”
“Because,” Kael said quietly, “someone is trying to resurrect something old. Something that was supposed to stay buried.”
I stared at him. “Like what?”
He met my eyes, and the truth in them chilled me.
“A god,” he said. “A wolf god that was banished for feeding on his own kind.”
I felt the blood drain from my face. “That’s a myth. A bedtime story.”
Kael shook his head. “It’s real. And it starts with the Alpha Moon.”
“The what?”
Damon scoffed. “Don’t let him fill your head with fairy tales, Elara.”
Kael ignored him. “The Alpha Moon only rises once every hundred years. It’s tied to bloodlines—fated mates, sacred bonds, the primal magic that binds us to the moon.”
He pointed at the body. “Whoever did this? They’re collecting sacrifices. Young wolves with pure blood.”
Damon crossed his arms. “You think someone’s hunting bloodlines?”
Kael’s jaw clenched. “No. I think someone in this pack is helping them.”
The implication landed like thunder.
And Damon’s face… changed.
Just for a second.
Something flickered in his eyes. Not surprise. Not confusion.
Recognition.
Kael saw it too.
“You know something,” he said quietly. “You’ve seen this before.”
Damon said nothing. Then he turned to his guards. “Get the body to the witch. See what she can find.”
“Damon—” I started.
But he spun on me. “You want answers? Fine. Come to the ritual tonight. See what our ‘little secrets’ look like in the moonlight.”
Then he turned and walked away.
Kael didn’t say anything for a long moment.
Then he murmured, “Something’s wrong.”
“No kidding.”
“No, I mean—this symbol. The blood. The timing. It’s too clean. Too precise.”
I looked at him. “You think it’s a setup?”
“I think,” he said grimly, “this was a message. And it wasn’t meant for you.”
I frowned. “Then who?”
Kael’s eyes met mine, dark and stormy. “Me.”
We spent the rest of the day pretending like everything was normal.
It wasn’t.
Damon had invited the entire inner circle to the ritual that night—elders, enforcers, even some outsiders. Said it was for “protection” and “insight,” but I knew him too well.
He wanted a show.
And I was the main act.
I stood in front of the mirror in my old room—now a cold, unfamiliar shell—and tried to calm my racing heart. The cloak Damon had sent for me was made of black silk, lined in crimson. Too tight around the throat. Too much like a collar.
The full moon was rising.
Kael met me by the edge of the ritual circle—an ancient stone ring near the cliffs. Fires lit the perimeter. A low hum echoed through the air, magic old and sharp like broken glass.
“What happens if this is a trap?” I whispered.
Kael didn’t look at me. “Then we fight.”
“And if Damon knows about the god? If he’s helping it rise?”
Kael’s eyes slid to mine, and his voice dropped to a whisper only I could hear.
“Then we stop him. Even if it kills us.”
The ritual began with chanting. The pack witch stepped into the center of the stones, her hands raised to the moon, her voice weaving an ancient language I barely understood.
Then Damon stepped forward.
He looked every bit the powerful Alpha—confident, regal, terrifying.
In his hands, he held a dagger carved from obsidian.
“Tonight,” he said, “we seek answers. From the moon. From the spirits. From our ancestors.”
He turned… and looked directly at me.
“Bring her forward.”
Two guards stepped up behind me.
I froze. “What—?”
Kael growled. “No.”
“She is the strongest wolf here,” Damon said smoothly. “She shifted under duress. Survived the creature. Her blood may hold the key.”
Kael lunged forward, but a barrier flared to life, shoving him back.
“Kael!” I shouted, panic rising.
The guards dragged me into the circle. The witch’s chant grew louder.
“No,” Kael shouted. “This isn’t a ritual. It’s a sacrifice!”
And then Damon raised the blade—
And slashed it across my palm.
Pain exploded. Blood splattered the stones. My knees buckled.
The moment the blood hit the ground, the earth beneath us trembled.
A fissure cracked through the center of the circle.
And from it came a voice that did not belong in this world.
“You have summoned me… and the blood is accepted.”
A shadow began to rise from the pit, smoke and bone and ancient malice.
Damon’s smile returned.
And I realized—
He had been helping the god.
All along.
- Writer
