Chapter Four: Bloodline Revealed
1177 Words
Lucan’s silver eyes glinted beneath the moonlight, and everything in Aria screamed danger. Not the kind that came with claws and teeth—but the kind that crept in like poison, sweet and undetectable until it had already eaten through your soul.
Dorian stepped in front of her, shifting just enough to block her body with his.
“You don’t belong here,” he said, voice hard.
Lucan tilted his head. “You took what’s mine.”
Aria flinched at the possessive tone. “I’m not anyone’s,” she snapped before she could stop herself.
Lucan’s lips curled into a slow smile. “Oh, she has fire. I can see why the bond snapped to her.”
“Back off,” Dorian growled. “This is between me and fate. You have no claim.”
“No legal claim,” Lucan said, stepping into the clearing, his wolves slinking like shadows at his sides. “But fate is fragile. And bonds can be broken. Especially by blood.”
Aria’s heart pounded. “What does that mean?”
Lucan’s gaze slid back to her, calculating and cold. “It means you’re part of something far older than you know. And you’ve been lied to.”
She felt the heat of Dorian’s body behind her, tense like coiled steel. “Don’t listen to him.”
“Why not?” Lucan said, voice silk. “Afraid she’ll see the truth?”
The wind stirred.
Lucan raised his hand, and the forest behind him seemed to still—like even the trees listened when he spoke.
“You’ve felt it, haven’t you, Aria? The dreams. The pull. The moon calling your blood.”
She didn’t answer.
Because she had felt it. And some deep, traitorous part of her wanted to know what it meant.
“I can help you awaken,” Lucan said. “I can help you remember what you were meant to be. Before he—” he jerked his chin at Dorian, “—tried to twist fate for his own ends.”
Dorian’s growl was low, vibrating in the space between them.
“You’re lying,” he said. “You’ve always lied.”
“I don’t need lies,” Lucan said, soft and venomous. “Not when the truth is this beautiful.”
He raised a hand—and the mark on Aria’s wrist burned.
She cried out, clutching it.
Dorian caught her as she staggered, fury lighting his features. “Stop!”
“She has a choice,” Lucan said. “I’m simply reminding her of it.”
Aria tried to breathe through the fire under her skin. Her mark pulsed with light—first white, then crimson. The same hue as the blood moon that had haunted her dreams.
And for a moment, she saw something.
A memory? A vision?
A woman with her face—but older. Standing in a circle of fire. Wolves howling around her. And Lucan, younger, smiling, bleeding.
She gasped and the image vanished.
“What was that?” she whispered.
Lucan’s smile widened. “Truth. Long buried.”
“No,” Dorian said, stepping forward. “You’re manipulating her.”
“I’m showing her power.”
“She’s not a weapon.”
“She’s the key!” Lucan snapped, his calm veneer fracturing for the first time. “To breaking the curse. To taking back what was stolen from all of us.”
“Curse?” Aria asked, breathless.
Lucan looked at her, and for once, his gaze softened. “Our bloodlines were cursed generations ago. Betrayed by your ancestors and mine. But together, we can end it. You and I.”
“Liar!” Dorian roared—and lunged.
In a blur of fur and fury, Dorian shifted mid-leap, slamming into Lucan before he could react. The two collided, crashing into the earth with a sound like thunder. Wolves howled and scattered, some circling, others leaping into the fight.
Aria stumbled back, blade still in her hand. Her instincts screamed for her to run—but her heart refused to abandon Dorian.
She reached into her pouch, drew out a bundle of herbs bound with red thread, and whispered another name—this one older, and somehow familiar.
The earth pulsed beneath her feet.
A shockwave of light burst outward from her, knocking the circling wolves flat. Lucan cursed and shoved Dorian back.
Aria raised the blade.
“Enough!” she shouted, voice not her own.
The clearing stilled.
Even Lucan looked stunned.
The power in her voice had cracked through the forest like a whip.
Dorian—bloody, bruised, but standing—looked at her with awe.
Lucan straightened, wiping blood from his mouth. “The blood remembers,” he whispered. “She’s almost ready.”
“I’m not yours,” Aria said, trembling. “You don’t own me.”
Lucan looked amused. “No. But I am your legacy.”
He turned without another word and melted into the shadows, his wolves disappearing with him like mist.
The forest went still.
Dorian came to her side, his hands cupping her face.
“Are you okay?”
“I—I think so,” she said, though her whole body shook. “What was he talking about? What curse?”
Dorian hesitated.
“I was going to wait,” he said. “Until after the second moon. But I think you deserve the truth.”
She nodded, still dazed.
He took her hand, guiding her back to the shattered cottage.
“We were cursed centuries ago,” he said. “Your bloodline and mine were once united—moon-callers and blood-born. Together, you held the power to control the shift, the pack, the land itself. But one of your ancestors betrayed the pact. She chose the wrong brother.”
Aria’s chest tightened. “And now…?”
“Now the blood remembers,” he said. “And you’re the last of your line. Which means—if the bond completes—”
“I’ll awaken?”
He nodded slowly. “Fully. But if Lucan completes it instead—he’ll twist the power. Use it to break the boundaries that keep monsters out of this realm.”
“And you?” she asked, quietly. “What do you want from me?”
Dorian looked into her eyes, and something in him cracked open.
“I want you to choose,” he said. “Not because of fate. Not because of blood. But because you want to.”
She stared at him, her heart splitting under the weight of everything.
The moon rose higher.
And far off in the woods, a different howl echoed—higher, more chilling.
Dorian went still. “That’s not Lucan.”
“What is it?”
But he didn’t answer.
He grabbed her hand. “We have to run. Now.”
They bolted into the night, into the trees.
Behind them, the sky tore open with lightning—not from a storm, but something worse.
Something ancient had awakened.
And it was hunting them.
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- Writer
