The Marked Luna

Chapter Three: Awakening

Serena’s POV

I stood over Ronan’s body, his eyes wide open in death. My claws dripped red. I didn’t understand how it had happened, only that it had. Wolves circled around me, growling low, their eyes gleaming with hatred. A crown sat on my head cracked, crooked, dripping black like blood.

The scene shifted. I was outside the same cavern from my previous dream, the cave was veiled in black mist, silence pressing down like stone. Two cloaked figures stood by a bloodstone altar. One was older, his aura, evil and heavy. The younger clenched his fists, tense and restless. Somehow, I could see them, but they couldn’t see me.

“The dream is spreading,” the younger one said, his voice strained.

What dream? My thoughts clawed for an answer.

The elder chuckled, a sound that made my skin crawl. “Dreams only have power when they’re understood.”

What is going on? Who are they? What are they about? What is this place?

The younger man’s eyes flicked to the dagger lying between them. “It’s too soon.”

“Is it?” the elder countered. “Or are you simply not ready?”

“She’s my…”

“No.” The elder’s voice cut sharp. “She is the curse made flesh. If we don’t act, we drown.”

The younger man stared at the dagger, and the elder pushed it toward him.

“When the time comes, use this. Remind her who she is.”

I gasped and jolted upright in bed, drenched in sweat, heart hammering against my ribs. The room was silent, still, yet I swore something was watching from the corners.

The dreams were becoming terrifying. Too real. But this one… it felt different.

What was he about to say before that monster cut him off? Who are they? Who were they talking about?

I pressed a hand to my face. I need answers or I’ll lose my mind. But who do I tell? Ronan? No. He already hated me. If I confessed this, he’d think I was spiraling into madness. Maybe I was, maybe I wasn't but whatever this is, I need to act fast.

Morning crept in quietly. Pale light spilled across my room. I must have dozed again, because when I opened my eyes, something lay on the nightstand beside me.

A dagger.

Gold and crimson, shaped like a half-moon with a fang at its center.

The exact one from my dream.

My breath caught. How—? I was certain I had locked the door. No one had entered. Slowly, I reached for it. The metal burned cold, as if it had just been dragged from ice. Someone had either kept the dagger here to mind trick me or somehow the dagger appeared from my dream. That thought alone was absurd and impossible.

How the f**k did this dagger get here?

I stumbled out of bed, clutching it. The door was still shut. The curtains are unmoved. No markings on the weapon. No explanation.

Hours passed with me pacing, walls pressing in. I couldn’t breathe. I had to get out.

You know it’s dangerous to leave, Myrren warned.

I don’t care, I blocked her out. By nightfall, I slipped from the room, bare feet silent against the cold floor. I didn't care for my feet as stones and nails pierced through. Urgency drove me. The hallways were empty, moonlight my only ally. I remembered the path Katja had taken the first day she brought food. I crept that way, almost free

“Going somewhere?”

I froze. Katja.

I forced myself to calm down before facing her. “I just needed air.” My voice came out steady. Too steady. I couldn't deal with her suspicions now.

“You are running away.” Katja folded her arms. “Bad idea.”

Her eyes dropped to the mark on my wrist. The burn flared, faint but sharp.

“There are worse things than Alphas you know?” she said quietly.

My brows knit in confusion “What does that mean?”

She shook her head. “Just… be careful where you walk.” Then she turned and left.

I blinked. That was it? No shouting, no guards? Suspicion gnawed, but I pushed forward anyway. I needed to go far from the park, Katja might have rushed back to inform Ronan and I didn't want to be caught so soon.

The forest air hit me, sharp and cold, freedom cutting into my lungs. I moved fast, the dagger hidden in my pocket. My feet stung, raw and bleeding, but I didn’t stop.

Let’s go back, Serena. Please. It isn’t safe here, Myrren begged, fear quivering in her voice.

It startled me that Myrren had never sounded afraid before. I almost turned back, but the dagger pressed on my waist and I pushed on. I want answers, answers to the terrifying dreams and I won't get them if I turn back.

The woods weren’t silent. Something or someone was watching.

Pain seared through my wrist. I staggered, clutching the mark. Energy surged under my skin, pulsing like a storm.

“Damn this mark,” I hissed in my head, collapsing to my knees.

And the world went white.

Warmth surrounded me. I didn’t open my eyes at first; I just leaned into it, craving it. When I finally looked, Ronan was carrying me. His grip firm, not cruel.

Back in my room, he set me down gently. He lingered, silent, then spoke. “My wolf doesn’t want to hurt you.”

I blinked at him, thrown. No anger. No accusations. Just… that. I expected his anger not his gentleness.

“He doesn’t understand you,” Ronan continued. “He doesn’t know if you’re mate or enemy. You confuse him.”

The words cut deep, sharp in my chest. I laughed bitterly. “Good. Maybe your beast has more sense than you.”

Something inside me cracked.

The curtains burst into flames.

I staggered back, horrified. “What the hell? I didn’t do that! It just… happened.” Fear shook my bones.

Ronan’s expression softened into something like sorrow. “So it’s true. You’re awakening.”

Awakening?

“What’s happening to me?” I whispered.

My vision became blurry as I hit the bed.

That night, the dream returned.

The child. The woman in gold. The dagger, red with blood.

And a voice, soft as poison.

“When the time comes… remind her who she is.”