Marked by the moon

Chapter 6:Bloodlines and Betrayals

She found the box by accident.

Hidden under the floorboards in Maris’s old sewing room — the one no one entered anymore.

Elara had only gone in to escape the world for a while. Her ribs were still sore from training, and her heart was still raw from Selene’s words.

But the creaking floorboard gave it away. And once she pulled it up…

Everything changed.

Inside the box were old papers, dried herbs, and a red ribbon that still smelled like smoke. But it was the photograph that made her breath catch.

A woman — sharp eyes, wild hair — holding a baby wrapped in a pale cloth.

And beside her… a man with dark curls, broad shoulders, and a crescent mark glowing faintly just above his collarbone.

Elara knew those eyes.

She had them.

When Maris found her sitting cross-legged on the floor, holding the picture like it might vanish, she didn’t even pretend to lie.

Elara didn’t scream. Didn’t yell.

She just asked, softly, “Why didn’t you tell me the truth?”

Maris sat down slowly. Her hands trembled.

“I wanted to protect you.”

“By hiding who I am?”

“By hiding how they died.”

And so Maris told her everything.

Her mother — Lyra — had been powerful, even before the mark. A healer. A dream-reader. Wolves from across territories came to her for guidance.

Her father — Rowan — was the Alpha of the Midnight Pack. Fierce. Loyal. Respected.

And madly in love with Lyra.

Their bond wasn’t arranged. It was real. The kind of connection wolves write songs about — the Moon’s flame burning between them.

When Lyra got pregnant, Rowan called it destiny.

But not everyone agreed.

Some feared the child. The union. The power it would create.

And one wolf — someone they trusted — sold them out.

Rogues attacked on the night of the Blood Moon.

Lyra and Rowan fought like hell. But there were too many. Rowan was cut down protecting the baby. Lyra ran, carrying Elara into the woods, wounded and desperate.

She made it to the edge of the human world before collapsing.

And Maris — once part of the pack herself — found her.

“Lyra gave me the child,” Maris said, tears sliding down her face. “You. She begged me to hide you, keep you away from everything. Said the Moon would call you back when it was time.”

“And then?”

“She died in my arms.”

The room was quiet.

Elara stared at her hands.

“I’ve been living like a shadow my whole life,” she whispered. “And all this time, I was never meant to be small.”

“No,” Maris said softly. “You were meant to rise.”

That night, Elara went back to the forest.

She didn’t wait for Kael.

She walked alone, cloak tight around her, the weight of truth heavier than anything she’d ever carried.

At the edge of the Moon Circle — the sacred place — she knelt in the wet grass.

Closed her eyes.

And whispered their names:

“Lyra. Rowan.”

The wind moved like it heard her.

And for a brief moment… she felt warmth.

A hand on her shoulder.

A scent like home.

The Moon answered.

When Kael finally found her, she didn’t look surprised.

He sat beside her, silent.

“I know what happened now,” she said.

“I felt the shift,” he said. “The air… it changed.”

“They didn’t die in vain.”

“No,” he said. “They died so you could live. And now, you have to lead.”

“I’m not ready.”

“You will be.”

Elara turned to him. Her voice didn’t shake this time.

“They didn’t just kill my parents. They took my blood. My birthright. My place.”

“And now?” he asked.

She stood slowly.

Hands curled at her sides. Eyes glowing faintly in the moonlight.

“Now,” she said, “I take it back.”