Book 1: The Luna’s Curse

The forest didn’t weep for the fallen. It watched. Moonlight spilled through the trees, silvering the blood on Aria Blackthorne’s hands. The pack’s howls echoed behind her, a chorus of betrayal that split the night in two. She didn’t run because she was afraid — she ran because she refused to let them see her break. Every breath burned like fire. Every heartbeat was a reminder that the bond she once cherished had been severed. Her mate — her destined other half — had stood before the pack and called her cursed. A disgrace. A wolf unworthy of their goddess. Now the mark beneath her skin pulsed, glowing faintly through the grime and the tears. The crescent scar — her “curse” — throbbed with heat, whispering something ancient, something wild. Branches tore at her cloak as she stumbled deeper into the woods. The moon above trembled through a veil of mist, and for the first time in her life, Aria wondered if the goddess she had worshipped had turned her back completely. “Run, cursed one,” her Alpha’s voice had sneered. “Run until even the shadows spit you out.” She had. But as the cold crept in, and the scent of iron thickened around her, she realized she was no longer alone. From the darkness, glowing amber eyes met hers — steady, unblinking, predatory. A Lycan. And not just any Lycan. The one the packs whispered about — the ruthless King who ruled the borderlands with claws and iron. Kael Draven. He stepped into the moonlight, power rolling off him like heat. “So this is the cursed one,” he said softly, his voice cutting through the night like a blade. “Tell me, little wolf… do you serve the Moon, or does the Moon serve you? Aria raised her chin, even as fear coiled in her stomach. “Neither,” she whispered. “I serve no one anymore.” Kael smiled — slow, dangerous. “Then perhaps you finally belong to me.”