CRESCENT BOUND

Shadows of the Past

Kaelen's POV

The wolf's smile froze the breath in my lungs. It was impossible. Wolves did not smile.

But this one—this massive black beast standing ten meters away from Elara—retracted its lips, revealing fangs like shards of white glass, and smiled.

It knew I was coming. It was waiting for me.

"Elara! Run!" I shouted, dashing across the courtyard at full speed. My boots struck the hard grass quickly and heavily. Every instinct inside me roared to transform, to tear it apart, to protect what was mine. But I couldn't. Not here. Not where she could see. If I transformed, if I let the beast take over, she would know. And knowing would mean death for both of us.

Elara spun around abruptly, her eyes wide.

"Kaelen? What is—"

The wolf leaped.

I didn't stop. I didn't slow down. I slammed into its flank with all my might, not enough to transform, but enough to send it crashing against the stone wall of the academy. It let out a yelp—a sharp, almost human sound—and whipped around, snapping its jaws inches from my face.

It was fast. Faster than any normal animal. But I was faster still.

We circled each other, me standing between it and Elara, fists clenched and my heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird.

"Get back," I said over my shoulder, never taking my eyes off the beast. "Go inside. Lock the doors. Don't come out for anyone, no matter what happens."

"I'm not leaving you!" Elara's voice trembled, but her feet didn't move.

The wolf growled, a deep, rumbling sound that vibrated through the ground beneath our feet. It took a step forward, its golden eyes fixed on mine. You're breaking the rules, Blackwood. You'll pay the price. I didn't hear it with my ears. I heard it in my head—husky and mocking. A pack traitor. Sent to test me. Sent to kill her because I had crossed the line.

It charged again.

I dodged its first attack, grabbed a handful of coarse black fur, and struck its jaw once, twice, three times, as hard as I could. It howled, yanked itself free with a sudden motion, and retreated, staggering, looking stunned. I didn't give it time to recover. I lunged, pinned it to the ground, and held its massive shoulders down with all my weight. It thrashed and snapped its jaws, but I held firm as every muscle screamed and every breath burned in my chest.

"Leave her alone!" I spat. "Or I'll kill you right here."

The wolf froze. It stared up at me, and for a second, its eyes changed—human and full of knowledge. Then it broke away with a sudden jerk, retreated, and vanished into the tree line as fast as it had come.

Silence fell over the courtyard once more.

My hands were shaking. My chest heaved. I stood there for a long moment, staring at the trees, waiting for it to return, watching for the next attack.

"Kaelen."

Elara's voice was soft and close. I turned around, and she was standing right behind me, her face pale and her eyes wide with shock.

"What... what was that? How did you—"

"It was just a wild animal." My voice was hoarse and breathless. I stepped closer, too close, and she took a step back. "And I'm stronger than I look. That's all."

"It wasn't just a simple animal." She shook her head, staring at the spot where it had vanished. "It was... it was huge. And it moved like it... like it knew you."

"It didn't know me. It was terrifying. And it's gone now." I plunged my hand into my pocket, my fingers closing around the small, smooth moonstone I always carried—an object designed to blur memories, used only in the worst situations. My father had taught me. If they see too much, wipe their memory.

I didn't want to do it. Something inside me screamed against the idea, telling me not to erase this, not to erase us. But I had no choice. If she remembered the speed, the strength, the way the wolf had looked at me, she would start asking questions. Questions that would kill her.

"Elara," I said, more softly now, stepping closer to her. "Look at me."

She lifted her chin, stubborn even when she was afraid.

"Why did you come out? Your father told you—"

"Forget it." I held the stone between us, letting it catch the moonlight. "Forget everything that just happened. There was no wolf. There was no fight. You came outside, you felt dizzy, and you fell. That's all you remember. Just the darkness, the cold, and you stumbling. Nothing else."

Her eyes clouded over. Her shoulders slumped.

"There was... no wolf?"

Her eyelids fluttered. Her hand reached out as if to touch my arm, as if she wanted to say something, then her knees gave out. I caught her before she hit the ground, supporting her lightly and carefully in my arms. She was warm. So small. And the amulet at her throat gleamed faintly, silver against the dark, as if it knew what I had done.

"I'm sorry," I murmured to her sleeping face. "I didn't want to. But I couldn't let you know. Not yet."

I stood up, carrying her easily since she weighed nothing, and headed for the gates. I had seen her file earlier while my father was signing papers. Elara Vance. Address: 412 Hollow Pine Lane. A small, isolated house on the edge of town, far enough from the academy and far from prying eyes.

I walked quickly, taking the back path and staying in the shadows. The cold wind lashed my face. The moon rose higher, watching me like an eye. Every step was a betrayal of my father, of my title, of all the rules I had been taught. But I kept going, because the alternative was letting her die. And that, I couldn't do.

I arrived in front of her house ten minutes later. It was silent, dark, no lights on. I shifted her weight to one arm, turned the knob, unlocked the door, and carried her inside. I laid her gently on the couch, covering her with a thick woolen blanket taken from the armchair. She looked peaceful and untouched, as though nothing had happened.

I stood there for a long moment, watching her. Part of me wanted to stay. Part of me wanted to wait for her to wake up, to explain, to tell her everything. But I couldn't. If I stayed, they would take me. And if they took me, we both lost.

I turned to leave, and something on the coffee table caught my eye.

It was an overturned picture frame. Curiosity washed over me. I walked over and flipped it upright.

My blood ran cold.

It was a picture of Elara, perhaps five years old, standing next to a woman with the same eyes and the same silver amulet around her neck. And behind them, his arm resting on the woman's shoulder and smiling as if he belonged there, stood a man I knew better than anyone.

My father.

Roderick Blackwood.