Chapter 9:The Name Lucien
477 Words
The name echoed in her mind long after the ink on the photograph had faded from her fingertips.
Lucien.
It wasn’t just a name. It was a trigger.
A tremor in the past she wasn’t supposed to remember.
She held the torn photograph tighter, her hands trembling.
That night, long after the pack had gone quiet and the air still smelled of ash and wet fur, Elara returned to the floorboard beneath her bed.
She opened the box again.
The letter was still there. But now she noticed the envelope was double-lined.
A second, thinner slip of parchment pressed between the folds.
She hadn’t seen it before.
To my daughter, if she ever finds this…
“You are more than they will ever tell you.
If he returns — if Lucien ever finds you — run to the river.
Trust no one who knew me, unless they wear the moon crest.”
Signed: Mira Lyra Hale.
Her mother.
The next morning, Elara cornered Kael by the training grounds.
“I need to know who Lucien is.”
His jaw locked. He didn’t meet her eyes.
“Elara, no.”
“Why is everyone afraid to say his name?”
“Because it summons him.”
She blinked, breath catching. “That’s not a myth?”
Kael exhaled, like dragging the truth out of himself was physically painful.
“He was a wolf once. One of the strongest. Some say he was the Alpha. Before any of us. Before the packs were even named.”
She waited.
“He went rogue,” Kael said. “But not like the others. He didn’t lose control. He gave it up. He wanted chaos. Freedom. Power. He believed the Moon mark was his birthright.”
Elara’s voice barely came out.
“So why would he be after me?”
Kael looked at her then. Really looked.
“That mark on your back… It’s not just a symbol, Elara. It’s a claim.”
That night, as the wind howled through the trees and she lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, Elara heard it again.
The voice.
It wasn’t spoken aloud.
It slid into her mind like a chill through cracked glass
She sat up with a jolt, chest heaving.
Her door creaked open on its own.
But no one stood there.
Only a long, black feather rested on the floor.
Lucien had never been seen in his true form…
Only felt.
By morning, three wolves were missing.
No bodies. No blood. No sign of struggle.
Just claw marks on the trees — old, but deep.
Too deep.
Kael stood at the border, eyes scanning the horizon like he was waiting for something. Or someone.
Elara stood beside him. No words. Just the silence between two people who both knew:
The real story was just beginning.
And Lucien?
He was getting closer.
- Writer
