THE MOONS FORBIDDEN MATE

CHAPTER 1

THE NIGHT THE FOREST CALLED

By the time Elara Veyne left the clinic, the village had gone quiet.

Not asleep. Bellmere never truly slept.

There was always somebody arguing behind a shuttered window, a baby crying somewhere down the lane, or old Mrs. Alder banging pots in her kitchen at an hour when sensible people were supposed to be in bed.

Tonight, though, the village felt strangely still.

Elara pulled her scarf higher around her neck and looked up at the sky.

Clouds had gathered over the hills, but the moon kept slipping through them, pale and bright enough to turn the frost on the rooftops silver.

"Wonderful," she muttered.

She hated walking home late.

She hated it even more when the moon was full.

The clinic door clicked shut behind her.

Elara checked that she'd locked it, then started down the stone steps.

She had been at the clinic since before sunrise. Old Mr. Venn had come in with a cut on his hand, Mrs. Bell had needed her usual medicine, and then half the village had apparently decided that Elara was the only person capable of sorting bottles and folding bandages.

She didn't mind helping.

Most days, she actually liked it.

But tonight her feet hurt, her stomach was empty, and all she wanted was her bed.

She took the shortcut through the woods.

It wasn't really a shortcut.

It saved perhaps ten minutes.

Still, everyone in Bellmere knew better than to take it after dark.

Elara knew that too.

Which was precisely why she told herself she wouldn't be afraid.

"I'm twenty-one," she whispered as she stepped beneath the trees. "I'm not five."

The forest gave no answer.

Only the crunch of frozen leaves beneath her boots.

She kept walking.

The path was familiar. She'd used it hundreds of times during the day. The old oak with the split trunk was on her left. The crooked stone was ahead. The stream was somewhere beyond the hill.

Nothing had changed.

Yet after a few minutes, Elara began to feel that uncomfortable sensation between her shoulder blades.

Someone was watching her.

She stopped.

The forest stopped with her.

Elara turned slowly.

Nothing.

Her fingers tightened around the strap of her bag.

"Okay," she said under her breath. "You're tired. That's all."

She started walking again.

Ten steps.

Twenty.

Then she heard a branch snap.

Elara stopped.

This time, she didn't turn immediately.

She listened.

Nothing.

She looked over her shoulder.

Still nothing.

Her pulse had begun to climb.

"Probably a deer."

Another branch snapped.

Closer.

Elara's mouth went dry.

She turned.

A pair of eyes stared at her from between the trees.

Gold.

Bright, unnatural gold.

Elara couldn't breathe.

The animal stepped into the moonlight.

It was a wolf.

At least, that was what her mind called it because there was no other word for what she was seeing.

It was enormous.

Far too large to be a normal wolf.

Its dark fur seemed almost black beneath the trees, and its shoulders rose higher than Elara had ever seen on any animal.

It stared at her.

Elara stared back.

Neither moved.

She should have run.

Every sensible part of her knew that.

Instead, she whispered, "You're not supposed to be this big."

The wolf's ears twitched.

Elara immediately regretted speaking.

"Right. Brilliant thing to say."

The wolf took one step forward.

She took one step back.

Another step.

Another backward.

Then the wolf stopped.

Something about its expression unsettled her.

It wasn't looking at her like an animal looking at prey.

It looked confused.

Almost as confused as she was.

Then its gaze dropped to her wrist.

Elara followed its eyes.

Her sleeve had ridden up slightly.

There was a small crescent-shaped birthmark on the inside of her wrist.

The wolf went completely still.

Its expression changed.

Elara noticed.

She didn't understand it, but she noticed.

"What?"

The wolf lifted its head.

For a moment, the forest was utterly silent.

Then it howled.

The sound rolled through the trees with enough force to make Elara's chest tighten.

She stumbled backward.

Something answered from far away.

Another howl.

Then another.

Elara's fear finally broke through whatever had kept her frozen.

She turned and ran.

She didn't care about the path anymore.

Branches caught her coat. Her bag slipped from her shoulder. She nearly fell twice, but she kept moving.

Behind her came the sound of paws hitting the ground.

Fast.

Too fast.

"It's chasing me," she gasped.

She pushed harder.

The path disappeared beneath her feet.

She was running blindly now.

A root caught her boot.

Elara went down hard.

Pain shot through her palms.

She rolled onto her back and looked up.

The wolf stood several meters away.

It hadn't attacked.

It simply watched her.

Elara's breathing came in short, frightened bursts.

"Stay away."

The wolf took a step.

"I said stay away."

It stopped.

And then something very strange happened.

The wolf lowered its head.

Not aggressively.

Almost like it was surrendering.

Elara stared at it.

Her fear faltered.

"What are you doing?"

A voice answered behind her.

"Get away from it."

Elara screamed.

She scrambled around.

A man stood among the trees.

He was tall, dressed in a dark coat, with black hair falling untidily across his forehead.

He looked perhaps twenty-five or twenty-six.

His expression was hard.

His eyes were fixed on the wolf.

"Who are you?" Elara demanded.

The man ignored her.

"Run."

Elara glanced at the wolf.

Then back at him.

"Run where?"

"Anywhere."

"That's helpful."

His eyes finally moved to her.

For a second, neither spoke.

There was something unsettling about him.

Not because he looked dangerous.

He did.

But because he looked at her as if he'd seen a ghost.

His face had gone completely pale.

"You," he whispered.

Elara frowned.

"Me?"

He took a cautious step toward her.

The wolf growled.

The man's head snapped toward it.

"Enough."

The wolf immediately fell silent.

Elara stared.

She slowly got to her feet.

"You know that thing?"

The man looked at her again.

"Yes."

"Is it yours?"

"No."

"Then why does it listen to you?"

He didn't answer.

Elara's patience was beginning to disappear beneath her fear.

"Look, I don't know what's happening, but I would really appreciate some actual explanations."

The man's jaw tightened.

"What's your name?"

"What?"

"Your name."

"Why?"

"Just tell me."

Elara folded her arms.

"No."

Something almost resembling amusement flickered across his face.

It disappeared so quickly that she wondered whether she'd imagined it.

"You're stubborn."

"And you're strange."

"Fair."

The wolf suddenly turned its head toward the deeper forest.

Its ears lifted.

The man noticed.

"So did you," he murmured.

"What?"

"You heard that."

Elara listened.

At first, she heard nothing.

Then came a low rumble from somewhere beyond the trees.

Not a growl.

Something heavier.

Closer.

The man's expression hardened.

"We need to leave."

Elara didn't move.

"Why?"

"Because that isn't one of ours."

"One of yours?"

He looked at her.

She could tell he'd said too much.

"What exactly are you?"

Silence.

Then the man sighed.

"My name is Kael."

"Kael what?"

"Draven."

The name hit her strangely.

She had heard it before.

Not from anyone she knew.

From stories.

Old stories.

The kind people told children when they wanted them home before sunset.

Elara's face changed.

"You're..."

Kael waited.

She couldn't make herself say it.

The wolf behind him slowly changed.

Elara watched in horror as its body twisted, fur disappearing beneath skin, bones shifting, limbs reshaping.

She stumbled backward.

"No."

Within seconds, there was no wolf.

A man stood where it had been.

Naked? No. Somehow, impossibly, he had a pair of dark trousers on, though Elara was too stunned to wonder where they had come from.

He looked at Kael.

Then at her.

His eyes were the same golden color.

Elara's stomach dropped.

Kael closed his eyes briefly.

"This is going to be difficult."

"Difficult?"

Elara's voice rose.

"You're both wolves!"

"We prefer werewolves."

"That is not better!"

For the first time, Kael actually smiled.

It was brief.

Almost reluctant.

But it was there.

Then a howl tore through the forest.

The smile vanished.

Kael turned toward the sound.

"We're out of time."

He stepped toward Elara.

She immediately stepped back.

"Don't."

He stopped.

"Fine."

"You're not taking me anywhere."

"I wasn't planning to."

"Good."

"I was planning to ask you to come."

"That's basically the same thing."

"No, it isn't."

"To me, it is."

Kael studied her for a moment.

Then his gaze dropped to her wrist.

The crescent-shaped birthmark was still visible beneath her sleeve.

His expression changed.

Again.

This time, fear.

Real fear.

Elara noticed.

"What?"

Kael didn't answer.

"Kael."

He looked at her.

"Where did you get that mark?"

Elara glanced at her wrist.

"I've had it since birth."

His face went completely still.

"Who are your parents?"

The question was so sudden that Elara frowned.

"My mother is Mara Veyne."

"And your father?"

She hesitated.

"My father died when I was young."

Kael's eyes narrowed.

"What was his name?"

"Why does that matter?"

"Elara."

She stiffened.

She hadn't told him her name.

He had never asked after that.

Yet he had just said it.

"How do you know my name?"

Kael looked away.

For several seconds, he said nothing.

Then he whispered something that made absolutely no sense.

"Because I've been looking for you."

The forest seemed to tilt beneath Elara's feet.

"For how long?"

Kael met her eyes.

"Twenty-one years."

A cold wind swept between them.

Elara stared at him.

Twenty-one years.

Her entire life.

Before she could ask another question, the howl came again.

This time, it was much closer.

Kael's face hardened.

"We have to go."

"Who is coming?"

He didn't answer.

Instead, he moved between Elara and the darkness.

The other werewolf stood beside him.

Two golden pairs of eyes appeared between the trees.

Then four.

Then six.

Elara's heart pounded.

Kael looked over his shoulder at her.

His voice was quiet.

"Whatever happens, stay behind me."

Elara swallowed.

"And if I don't?"

His eyes met hers.

"Then I'll spend the rest of tonight trying to keep you alive."

She didn't know why those words frightened her more than the wolves.

Maybe because, for the first time, she believed him.

And somewhere beyond the trees, something began to growl.