MOONBOUND SECRETS

CHAPTER THREE:THE FALLOUT

“Aria… please… don’t”

Lila’s voice trembled like a brittle branch in the wind. Her lantern shook in her hand, throwing erratic shadows across the clearing. I could see my reflection in her eyes—the monstrous outline of fur, claws, and teeth where her best friend should’ve been.

I wanted to tell her it was still me. That I wasn’t dangerous. That I hadn’t chosen this. But all that came out of my throat was a low growl that rattled the air between us.

I turned away, digging my claws into the dirt to keep from lunging at her. My muscles burned, twitching with the wild urge to run—to hunt—to do something that wasn’t human.

And then I did run.

One leap and I was in the trees, the night swallowing me whole. Branches scraped against my fur as I tore through the forest, desperate to put space between myself and Lila’s terrified face.

But I couldn’t outrun the truth.

She had seen me.

And no matter what happened next, nothing would ever be the same.

I don’t remember how long I ran. Minutes? Hours? The forest blurred around me in streaks of silver and black, my paws carrying me farther and farther until my lungs burned.

When I finally stopped, I was by the river. The moonlight rippled on the surface, and in it I saw the wolf again—golden eyes, sharp fangs, a predator’s body.

I squeezed my eyes shut. Please… let this be a nightmare.

But when I opened them, the wolf was still there.

I lay down on the cold ground, my body trembling, and waited. It felt like forever before the shift came again—bones snapping back into place, fur receding, claws shrinking to fingers. I gasped in the aftermath, naked and shivering by the riverbank, my skin damp with sweat.

The girl in the reflection was me again. But not the same me. Never the same.

The morning came too quickly. I crept home through back paths, avoiding the village square, praying no one had seen me slip into the house. My mother was kneading dough at the table when I slipped in, her brow furrowing at the sight of me.

“Where were you all night?” she asked sharply.

My throat closed. Lying had never come easily to me, but what else could I do? Tell her her daughter turned into a wolf and almost attacked her best friend?

“I… couldn’t sleep,” I whispered. “I went to the river.”

Her gaze lingered on me, searching, but she didn’t press further. Relief flooded me, though it was fragile and short-lived.

Because the real storm wasn’t here in the kitchen.

It was Lila.

I found her later that afternoon, sitting alone on the stone wall near the well. She wasn’t smiling the way she usually did when she saw me. Her eyes flicked to my face, then away, as if the sight of me burned.

I swallowed hard and sat beside her. “Lila…”

She stiffened, hands twisting in her lap.

“I can explain,” I said quickly, though the truth was I couldn’t. How do you explain something you don’t understand yourself?

Her voice was barely a whisper. “You’re not human, are you?”

The words cut deep, sharper than any claw.

“I’m still me,” I said, almost pleading. “You know me, Lila. You’ve known me since we were children.”

Her lips pressed into a thin line. “I thought I did.”

Silence stretched between us. I could hear her heartbeat racing—faster than normal, thudding like she was ready to run.

Finally, she turned to me, eyes wet. “Do you… do you want to hurt me?”

The question hit me like a stone. I shook my head furiously. “No. Never. I would rather die.”

But the memory of that night came back—the hunger, the way my muscles had coiled to spring at her, the intoxicating scent of her fear. And I realized I wasn’t entirely sure if my answer was true.

Lila must have seen the hesitation in my eyes. She stood abruptly, clutching her shawl tighter around her shoulders.

“I don’t know if I can be around you anymore,” she whispered. Then she walked away, leaving me on the wall with the weight of her fear crushing my chest.

The village felt different after that. Every laugh in the square, every lingering glance, every whisper carried a new edge. Were they already talking about me? Did Lila tell someone?

Paranoia curled tight in my stomach. I wanted to scream the truth, to beg for help, but some instinct screamed louder: stay hidden.

And that night, when the moon rose again, I didn’t fight the pull.

I slipped into the forest, bones bending and twisting until the wolf stretched inside my skin once more. I let it take me, let the sounds and scents of the night flood in, let my paws carry me deeper into the trees.

That was when I smelled him.

The scent was strong, musky, tinged with smoke and something dangerous. It made the fur along my spine stand on end.

And then—he stepped out from between the trees.

Kael.

I knew it was him before he even spoke. The same dark-haired man who had bitten me, whose golden eyes had haunted me ever since.

But he wasn’t just a man now. He shifted before my eyes, the change smooth, practiced, powerful. In moments, a towering wolf stood before me, dark as midnight, his gaze locking onto mine.

My body froze.

Then he shifted back, rising to full height, bare-chested in the moonlight, his eyes gleaming like molten gold.

“So,” he said, his voice deep and steady, carrying a strange finality. “You survived.”

I staggered back, claws scraping the dirt. Fear and fury clashed inside me. “You—” My voice came out guttural in this half-shifted state. “You did this to me!”

He tilted his head, watching me like a predator watching prey. “I marked you. You should be grateful.”

“Grateful?” I snarled. “You ruined my life!”

His expression didn’t change. “No, little wolf. I gave you a new one.”

The way he said it made my blood boil. I wanted to claw his smug face, to tear into him. But some deep, gnawing pull rooted me in place—like invisible chains bound me to him.

“What do you want from me?” I whispered.

His golden eyes softened—not with kindness, but with certainty. “You’re mine now.”

The words struck me harder than claws, and the forest seemed to tilt around me.

Before I could answer, before I could run, Kael stepped closer, lowering his voice to a growl.

“And others will come for you. They’ll smell what you are. They’ll want you dead.” His gaze pinned me. “But remember this: I’m the only one who can keep you alive.”

The night air grew colder, pressing against my skin. My pulse thundered.

And just as I opened my mouth to tell him I would never belong to him—

A branch cracked in the distance.

We both turned.

And in the shadows, a pair of glowing red eyes stared back at us.