The Bite That Saved Me: I'm His Lost Luna

Chapter VII: Alpha Saved The Hidden Village

Amy's POV

It was my special day today. Or so we thought.

Since Grandma had found me on this same date ten years ago, she'd decided this would be my birthday from then on—every year, the same day, marking the start of my new life. She always said it deserved to be celebrated, so every year, we did.

Tonight, we were celebrating my twentieth birthday, though I could never be fully sure of the number. I had no memory of my real past, no way to know my true age. Grandma always guessed I'd been around ten when she found me, based on my height, my features—nothing more certain than that.

Tonight felt different, though. Special. The whole village had come together to celebrate as one, after Grandma asked for their help to make the night unforgettable.

And for a while, it was perfect. I loved the dancing, the singing, the warmth of being surrounded by so many people. Something about the crowd, the noise, the closeness—it felt familiar, like a feeling stitched into memory I couldn't quite name or place.

We were happy. Truly happy.

Until the night turned into a nightmare.

A woman's scream tore through the celebration, and then—wolves. Everywhere. Chasing, stumbling, attacking, devouring anyone unlucky enough to be caught. And then, from nowhere, a blue flame erupted into the chaos—no warning, no permission, just fire and fury, consuming every black wolf it touched.

His flame was strong. Powerful enough that for one dizzying moment, I wanted to feel relieved. He's helping us. He's on our side.

But then the pain hit.

My left shoulder—the twin scars there—ignited, blazing the same blue as his flame. My whole body felt like it was tearing apart from the inside, burning alive. My legs felt too weak to hold me, yet my own aura surged regardless, gold light spilling out of me whether I willed it or not.

By the time most of the wolves had been destroyed or driven off, I saw him fall. Growling. Broken. Bruised and bleeding in ways that made my chest ache just to look at him.

I ran to him.

The moment I touched him, the burning in my shoulder eased—the pain simply gone, as though it had never been there at all. But his blue flame remained, radiating faintly around him even as his eyes began to fade, dimming toward unconsciousness.

And in that last flicker of blue before the darkness took him, I saw it.

A gaze I recognized.

One I'd known before. Long ago.

Some of the village men carried him and settled him carefully into our small hut. My grandmother was known throughout the village as a healer, skilled with herbs gathered from the forest—which is why, without question, everyone agreed he should stay with us to be treated.

No one knew who he was. He'd simply appeared out of nowhere, fighting for people he owed nothing to.

His wounds were severe. Some were shallow scratches, but others ran deep, dark gashes that made my stomach turn just to look at.

I helped Grandma clean them, one by one. And the whole time, an ache stirred inside my chest—something I couldn't explain. Whenever my hands touched him, the pain in my shoulder disappeared completely. But the moment I stepped away, even for a second, it came rushing back, crashing through my veins like it had never left.

Those eyes. That blue flame. I'd seen them before—somewhere, sometime, in a place my memory refused to give back to me.

I was cutting strips of cloth for Grandma to use as bandages when the blade slipped, catching my finger. Blood welled up fast, and before I could stop it, a single drop fell—landing directly on one of his wounds.

For a moment, nothing happened.

Then the drop began to shimmer, almost boiling against his skin, before it bloomed into a soft, glowing gold. I stared, breath caught in my throat, as the wound beneath it simply... vanished. Sealed shut, like it had never been there at all.

I nearly forgot to breathe.

I reached out and tugged at Grandma's sleeve, desperate for her to see. The moment she did, her eyes went wide with shock. Questions swam there, too many to name, tangled together with confusion—and beneath it all, something else. Something that looked almost like hope.

"Amy." Her voice barely rose above a whisper, more breath than sound. "That's—that's more than just a coincidence."

Grandma opened her mouth, something clearly on the tip of her tongue, then closed it again, holding it back.

"Grandma, I can help him heal. I know I can." I said it eagerly, certain I could speed his recovery.

"You can't do that, Amy. You don't understand what it could cost you." Grandma hesitated, and something in her voice told me she knew exactly what would happen if I tried.

"But—I want to try, Grandma. He saved all of us tonight. He deserves to be healed." I wouldn't back down.

She studied me for a long moment, worry etched into every line of her face. "Alright. But promise me—if you feel anything unusual, any pain, any weakness, any sense that something is draining out of you, you stop immediately. Can you promise me that?"

"Yes, Grandma. I promise."

I began letting my blood fall onto his wounds, one drop at a time, watching them close and seal beneath the gold. But partway through, dizziness crept in. My vision blurred at the edges. My whole body felt suddenly, impossibly heavy—and before I could react, before I could even call out, everything went dark.

"No! You have to save yourself!"

A boy was shouting, trying to push a little girl away from him.

"I'm not leaving you here!" she shouted back, her voice fierce, unshaking.

The little girl held the boy against her chest, blood soaking through everywhere she touched him—so much blood, pouring from a wound in his chest. Her own strength was fading fast, her vision swimming, going dark at the edges. And then his arms moved—strong, sudden—pulling her close.

Without hesitation, he sank his teeth into her left shoulder.

Blue flame erupted, blazing bright between them. The girl screamed in pain.

Then everything went black.