Moonlits secrets of the Alphas curse

ChapterFour

Elara Kane stood in the Blackthorn Estate’s courtyard, the morning fog thinning under a weak sun. Her mother’s silver dagger gleamed in her hand, its runes catching the light as she practiced strikes under Lila’s watchful eye. The Silverfang beta moved like a predator, her movements fluid and precise, correcting Elara’s stance with a sharp nod. “Not bad, new girl,” Lila said, her tone grudgingly approving. “You’re no wolf, but you’ve got fight.”

Elara wiped sweat from her brow, her muscles aching. Two days at the estate had changed everything. She wasn’t just a librarian anymore—she was the fated mate of a cursed alpha, tied to a witch’s legacy she barely understood. The bond with Gideon pulsed in her chest, a constant hum that grew stronger when he was near. It was maddening, exhilarating, and terrifying all at once.

Across the courtyard, Gideon sparred with another Silverfang, his movements a blend of power and grace. His shirt clung to his broad frame, and when his amber eyes met hers, the bond flared, sending a jolt through her. She looked away, focusing on the dagger. Focus, Elara. You’re not here for him. But her dreams last night—vivid images of running through the forest with Gideon, his hand in hers—begged to differ.

Lila noticed her distraction. “He’s got you rattled,” she said, smirking. “That bond’s no joke. But don’t let it cloud your head. We’ve got trouble coming.”

Elara tightened her grip on the dagger. “The Nightclaws?”

“Worse,” Gideon said, joining them. His voice was low, his face etched with worry.

“The full moon’s tomorrow night. If we don’t break the curse, I might not come back from the feral shift. The pack can’t afford that—and neither can Silver Hollow.” Her stomach twisted. “Then we do the ritual tonight. The journal said the Moonlit Glade, your blood, my will, and the dagger. We’re ready.”Gideon’s jaw clenched. “It’s not that simple. Claiming you as my mate to complete the ritual could spark a war. The Nightclaws see you as a threat to their power.They’ll stop at nothing to kill you.”

Elara’s heart raced, not just from fear but from the bond’s pull, urging her closer to him. “And if we don’t claim it? What happens to you?”

He didn’t answer, but his eyes said enough—loss, pain, a man carrying a century’s curse. She wanted to hate him for dragging her into this, but the warmth in her chest wouldn’t let her. Instead, she stepped closer, her voice firm. “I’m not running, Gideon. Tell me how to fight.”

Lila snorted, but her eyes softened. “She’s got guts. Let’s train her right.”

The day passed in a blur of drills—dodging, striking, learning the pack’s signals.Elara’s body ached, but she felt alive, the dagger an extension of her will. Lila taught her to sense the pack’s rhythm, to move with them. By afternoon, the Silverfangs watched her with cautious respect, no longer the “new girl” but something more.

That night, in the estate’s library, Elara pored over Seraphine’s journal again, Gideon at her side. His presence was a distraction, his breath warm as he leaned over to point at a passage. “The ritual needs intent,” he said. “Your heart has to be in it,Elara. The bond makes that possible, but it’s dangerous." Her fingers brushed his, and the bond surged, electric. She pulled back, her cheeks burning. “Dangerous how?”

“Claiming you binds us forever,” he said, his voice rough. “It’s not just the curse. It’s us—our lives, our fates.”Before she could respond, a howl shattered the silence, followed by a crash outside.Lila burst in, eyes wild. “Nightclaws. They’re at the perimeter."

Gideon was on his feet, claws extending. “How many?”

“Six, maybe more,” Lila said. “They’re testing us.”

Elara grabbed her dagger, her pulse pounding. They ran to the courtyard, where Silverfangs were already shifting, their growls echoing. Shadows moved beyond the estate’s iron gates—red eyes glinting in the fog. A wolf lunged, smashing through a fence. Elara slashed, the dagger’s silver biting deep, driving it back. Gideon fought beside her, his half-shifted form a blur of power. The skirmish was brief but brutal,the Nightclaws retreating into the night.

Breathing hard, Gideon grabbed her arm, his touch searing. “They’re coming for you,Elara. We do the ritual tonight—or we lose everything.”

She nodded, the dagger heavy in her hand. The bond burned, a promise and a risk, as the howls faded but the threat loomed closer.