Marked by the Moon, Bound by Blood

Chapter 11

"That’s just because of this stupid mate bond, isn't it? You’re just being jerked around by your instincts," I snapped.

Anderson gave a hollow huff. "Maybe you’re right. But I don't like being told what to do by anyone—including my own instincts. I saved you because I wanted to make my own choice, not one forced on me by the pack's fear."

I went quiet, looking at the red welts on my wrists from the silver chains.

"Last night... when I attacked you... I really wasn't in my right mind," I said softly.

"I know. I saw it in your eyes. That wasn't you, Misha. Something else hijacked your head," Anderson said.

"Wilfredo called me a predator. What do you think I actually am?" I asked.

Anderson looked at me for a long beat. "I don't know. But I saw your power last night. You move faster than any werewolf I’ve ever seen. And that purple light... that’s not werewolf magic."

Suddenly, there was a soft knock. Wilfredo walked in carrying an old book with a faded, worn-out cover. He looked dead serious.

"Alpha, I just checked the old records from the secret library under the meeting hall," Wilfredo said.

Anderson sat up straight. "What did you find?"

Wilfredo opened the book on the table, pointing to a hand-painted illustration of a woman with light patterns under her skin, exactly like mine.

"There’s an ancient legend about a bloodline that went extinct thousands of years ago. They were called 'Natural Anomalies'—the result of a crossbreeding that was never supposed to happen. These records mention ancient hybrids with instant regeneration and energy that can literally shatter natural ties like a mate bond," Wilfredo explained.

I crawled closer to the table, curious. "Ancient hybrid? You mean I’m some kind of experiment?"

"Could be. Or maybe you're the last hidden descendant. Your power only woke up because that wolf attack triggered a survival mode in your blood," Wilfredo added.

Anderson stood and looked at the book, reading lines written in an ancient script.

"It says here that the existence of these hybrids was always seen as a sign of disaster. They can’t have mates—their energy is too dominant, and it will destroy their partner from the inside out," Anderson said, his voice sounding incredibly heavy.

I looked at Anderson. So that was it. That was why our bond was broken. It wasn't because I hated him; it was because my blood was literally designed to reject his kind.

"Then how do we stop it?" I asked, panicking.

Wilfredo gave me a look of pure pity. "The book doesn't give a straight answer. But it mentions a place in the Northern Mountains—an old temple that might hold the secret to taming that energy."

"That’s outside our territory. That’s enemy land," Anderson noted.

"It is. But it’s your only hope for staying alive, Alpha. If you stay here, this woman’s energy will keep draining your strength until you can't even get out of bed," Wilfredo said.

Anderson went silent, staring out the window at the vast forest.

"We don't have much time. If the pack finds out about this, they won't let us leave," Anderson muttered.

Suddenly, a scream erupted from outside the house. It sounded completely hysterical.

"Alpha! Help! Something is attacking the eastern border!"

Anderson grabbed his cane and stood up immediately, despite the pain on his face.

"What the f**k now?" he growled.

He threw the door open. A warrior stood there, gasping for breath.

"The creature that attacked Misha last night... it’s back! But it brought the rest of its pack this time! They’re attacking everything in sight!"

I jumped. The thing that almost killed me was back? And it wasn't alone?

"They aren't werewolves from any pack, Alpha. They look like... undead wolves," the warrior added, his voice shaking.

Anderson looked at me sharply. "Misha, stay here. Wilfredo, watch her."

"No! I'm coming!" I blurted out.

"You're the one they're after! Staying here is a goddamn order!" Anderson snapped.

He hurried out of the room, followed by the warriors. I heard footsteps sprinting through the corridors.

"Misha, don't go out. It’s dangerous," Wilfredo said, closing the door.

I paced the room. My heart was pounding again, but not from fear this time. I felt something pulling me outside. Something connected to those attackers.

*Boom!*

A massive explosion rocked the front gate of the house. The floor beneath me shook violently. I looked out the window and my jaw dropped. Down in the clearing, several huge black wolves had appeared—their skin was peeling off, and their eyes were hollow, empty pits.

They started brutally attacking the pack members. Anderson tried to fight them off, but his weakened state got him thrown against a stone wall after taking a heavy hit.

"Anderson!" I screamed.

I couldn't just sit here. I had to do something. I looked around and found a heavy ceramic flower vase. I hauled it at the iron door, hoping the noise would get someone to open it, but nothing. It seemed even Wilfredo had run down to help. I looked at the barred window. I grabbed the iron bars with my bare hands.

*Grrr...*

The heat was back. Purple light began to radiate from my palms. With one burst of insane strength, I ripped the iron bars right out of the frame.

*Krak!*

I leaped from the second-story window and landed in a crouch in the middle of the chaos. Every eye turned to me—including the undead wolves.

One of the wolves stopped attacking a warrior and slowly walked toward me. It let out a growl that sounded like a distorted whisper of my name.

"Mi-sha..."

I froze. This thing knew me?