Chapter Eight
1577 Words
Elara’s POV
The old chapel breathed with me.
Every inhale echoed off the broken stone walls, every exhale drifted up into the ribs of the collapsed ceiling where moonlight dripped through like bloodless water. I curled tighter beneath Mrs. Hawthorne’s shawl, though the cold wasn’t what made me tremble.
The bond was.
It pulsed inside me—slow, steady, insistent—like a second heartbeat that didn’t belong to me at all. Every beat whispered his name.
Kael.
Kael.
Kael.
I dug my nails into the stone floor, trying to anchor myself to something other than him. But the thread between us tugged anyway, sharp and demanding, as if the distance itself hurt him… or me.
Maybe both.
I shut my eyes and leaned my head back against the ruined altar. The chapel had once been a place of worship; I could still feel faint traces of old prayers in the air—sorrowful, lingering, clinging to the stones like ghosts. It made the space feel alive and heavy at once, full of memories that weren’t mine.
Just like the power inside me.
Moon’s Mark.
The words still felt unreal, too big, too ancient to apply to me—the girl who spent her days scrubbing floors and avoiding eye contact with warriors who felt more like shadows than men.
I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to breathe past the ache of confusion.
“Why me?” I whispered into the dark. “Why now?”
The chapel didn’t answer.
But something else did.
A low hum beneath my skin. A shimmer. A soft warmth that spread from my palm up to my shoulder. I lifted my hand slowly, my breath catching.
There it was—the faintest glow.
Silver. Subtle. Alive.
I sucked in a sharp breath and pressed the glowing hand against my chest. The warmth flowed deeper, and my heartbeat stuttered.
The first time it had happened, I’d been terrified.
Now… it felt like the truth.
A truth I wasn’t ready for.
Crack.
The sound snapped through the silence. My head shot up, the glow vanishing as quickly as it came. I scrambled to my feet, eyes darting toward the broken doorway.
“Mrs. Hawthorne?” I whispered.
No answer.
I moved closer, heart thudding so loudly I swore the forest could hear it. The wind outside had died completely—unnatural, expectant. Something shifted in the branches, a heavy weight circling the clearing.
Not Kael.
I would have felt him. The bond would have flared.
This was something colder. Hungrier.
Rogue.
My pulse crashed in my ears as I backed toward the altar again. “No, no, no…”
Another c***k—closer.
The sound wasn’t like footsteps. More like… scraping. Dragging. A low growl rumbled through the wood, vibrating through the floor stones.
I pressed myself into the shadows, swallowing hard.
Then the chapel door scraped open.
A silhouette filled the doorway—massive, hunched, wrong. The creature stepped into the moonlight, and I bit down hard on a scream.
It wasn’t a wolf.
Not anymore.
Its bones jutted at odd angles beneath matted fur, its eyes two hollow pits glowing sickly yellow. Its jaw hung slightly open, teeth far too long for any natural mouth.
A feral. A corrupted rogue.
Mrs. Hawthorne had warned me once—some rogues weren’t just driven mad. Some were twisted by forbidden magic, stripped of reason until only instinct remained.
And every instinct in this creature screamed kill.
I stumbled backward, my hand brushing against the fallen bell rope. The feral’s head snapped toward the movement, growl deepening.
“Stay back,” I whispered, though it was useless.
The beast lunged.
I threw up my hands on instinct, eyes squeezed shut—
—but instead of claws ripping into me, a burst of heat exploded from my palms.
Silver light thundered through the chapel like lightning, slamming into the feral’s chest. A howl split the air, bone-deep and agonized. The creature crashed against the wall, sizzling where the light touched.
The Moon’s Mark.
My power.
I stood frozen, my whole body shaking, watching as the feral scrambled to its feet again. Its flesh smoked. Its breath hitched and rasped in pain. But it didn’t retreat.
It came again, faster.
I braced myself—but this time, the power didn’t rise. My hands stayed dark. Empty.
“No,” I whispered, panicked. “Come on—please—”
The feral charged.
A shadow slammed into it from the side.
Teeth flashed. Claws tore. A massive wolf pinned the creature to the floorboards, snarling with ferocity that vibrated through my bones.
Silver eyes.
Kael.
He tore into the feral with a brutality that made me flinch. Splinters of wood and flurries of fur flew through the air. The feral screamed—high, distorted—and snapped its jaws toward him, but Kael crushed its throat before it could strike again.
The creature went limp beneath him, the sickly yellow glow in its eyes dimming.
Kael stood over it for a long moment, chest heaving, blood dripping from his fur. Then he turned his head toward me.
His wolf’s gaze burned straight through me.
Mate.
The word wasn’t spoken. It pulsed through the bond, raw and furious and terrified.
He shifted without warning, bones snapping back into place as his wolf folded into the man beneath. When he stood, naked in the tattered moonlight, he looked wild—hair tousled, jaw clenched, eyes bright with something between anger and relief.
“Elara.” His voice was ragged. “Are you hurt?”
I shook my head, though the trembling didn’t stop. “How—how did you know I was—”
“You think I wouldn’t feel you panic?” He stepped toward me, breath still uneven. “The bond jolted like you were dying.”
I pressed a hand to my racing heart. “I’m fine. I—Kael, I didn’t mean to—”
His arms were around me before I could finish. Not gentle. Not careful. He crushed me against him like he needed to feel every inch of me just to breathe again.
“You should never have been here alone,” he muttered into my hair. “The chapel isn’t safe. Hawthorne should have known better.”
“She did this to protect me,” I whispered. “From your father.”
He stiffened.
I felt the storm break behind his ribs, silent and sharp.
“Elara,” he said quietly, “you don’t understand what you’re walking into.”
I pulled back enough to look at him. “Then help me understand.”
His gaze softened—just barely—and he brushed a thumb over the edge of my jaw.
“The Moon’s Mark is… feared,” he said. “Used. Controlled. My father will see you as power he can weaponize—or destroy. And the pack won’t question him.”
“So what am I supposed to do?” My voice cracked. “Run forever?”
“No.” His hand slid to the back of my neck, pulling me close until our foreheads touched. “You’re supposed to stay with me.”
I closed my eyes, breath mixing with his.
“You gave me until sunrise,” I whispered.
“I regretted it the second I left you.” His fingers tightened slightly. “I shouldn’t have walked away.”
My heart stumbled. “Kael…”
“You could have died tonight.” His voice trembled—barely noticeable, but real. “I felt your fear like a blade in my chest. I can’t—I won’t—let that happen again.”
He pulled back just enough to meet my eyes.
“You’re coming with me. Now.”
The words should have scared me.
But instead… something inside me calmed. As if my wolf had been waiting for those exact words.
Still, fear flickered. “Your father—”
“Let me worry about him.” His jaw set with a promise that felt more dangerous than comforting. “I’m done letting him decide anything about my life. Or yours.”
A shiver raced down my spine.
Kael stepped away long enough to grab a cloak from outside the doorway—his, worn and thick—and draped it around my shoulders. Then he offered me his hand.
Palm open.
Just like before.
I swallowed as my fingers hovered above his. The bond thrummed between us, soft but insistent. Calling. Choosing.
“You sure?” he asked quietly.
Not demanding. Not ordering.
Just asking.
For the first time since the Mark appeared… I felt the answer settle in my bones.
“Yes.”
I placed my hand in his.
The bond snapped into place—not painful, not overwhelming—just right. Like two pieces of a whole finally aligning.
Kael exhaled shakily, eyes fluttering shut for a moment.
Then he pulled me gently toward him.
“We need to move,” he murmured. “The Alpha will feel the shift in the bond by morning.”
“And when he does?” I asked.
Kael’s lips brushed my temple in a barely-there touch.
“Then we fight.”
Outside, the first whisper of dawn touched the edge of the sky.
And for the first time, I wasn’t running.
I was choosing.
Kael.
The bond.
My fate.
And the Moon…
the Moon was watching.
- Writer
