Chapter Nine: The Blood Moon Beckons
1399 Words
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The moon was red.
Not gold. Not silver. Not pale and ghostly like it usually was.
It bled across the sky, staining the clouds as it hovered low above Thorn Manor, casting everything beneath it in a strange, foreboding glow.
Aria stood in the manor’s west tower, looking out at the woods that bordered Lunaris Hollow. The pendant on her chest pulsed with heat—slower than before, but stronger. It didn’t feel like a warning anymore. It felt like a heartbeat. Like something ancient had finally awakened.
Behind her, Lucien leaned against the wall, silent. He hadn’t spoken much since their shared vision. Not since they'd both seen themselves in the past—two lovers, cursed and broken. And the wolf bound in chains of light.
“This moon,” Aria said quietly, “it’s different.”
Lucien’s voice was low. “It’s the first sign. The Blood Moon rises once every hundred years. It marks the moment when the curse reaches its tipping point.”
She turned. “And then what?”
He looked at her, his face tight. “Then it chooses. Either it binds us together forever—or tears us apart.”
Aria crossed her arms. “That’s a nice way of saying one of us dies.”
Lucien flinched. “I won’t let that happen.”
There was fire in his words, but Aria saw the fear behind his eyes. The wolf inside him stirred too easily these days. She could sense it even when he was still.
The beast wanted out.
---
Elsewhere, in the forest, the woman with the raven-feather cloak kneeled beside a broken stone altar. Her silver dagger was pressed against her palm, blood dripping onto ancient runes etched in the stone.
Around her, shadows moved—other figures cloaked in black, whispering in a language the world had forgotten.
“Let the Moonbound bleed,” she whispered. “Let their bond awaken the beast. And when the curse consumes them…”
She lifted her eyes to the red sky.
“…we will rise.”
Her name was Nyra Vale, last heir of the exiled Lunar Houses. She had waited her whole life for the curse to surface again. For centuries, her bloodline had been blamed for the original betrayal—the night the moon was first bound. And now, she would finish what her ancestors had started.
The dagger pulsed.
---
Back at the manor, Aria sat in the library with Selene, who poured over a stack of ancient scrolls. The Oracle's face was paler than usual, her lips pressed into a thin line.
“These symbols have changed,” Selene muttered. “They’ve darkened.”
“What does that mean?” Aria asked.
Selene hesitated. “It means someone else has tapped into the curse. Someone powerful enough to distort it.”
Aria’s stomach twisted. “Nyra?”
Selene looked up. “You saw her?”
“In a vision,” Aria said. “Black cloak. Silver dagger. Her eyes were—wrong.”
Selene leaned back. “Nyra Vale. She was exiled decades ago for trying to resurrect the Lunar Pact—the original ceremony that bound werewolves and humans under the moon’s will.”
“Why would she want the curse active again?”
“Because she believes it will restore the old order. A world where wolves ruled and humans bowed.”
Aria swallowed. “And Lucien?”
“He’s the key. His bloodline holds the original mark. But with you bonded to him—”
“I’m part of it too.”
Selene nodded grimly. “And that makes you her target.”
---
That night, a storm rolled in—thunder growling low over the Hollow, wind tearing at the trees.
Lucien stood at the gates of the manor, Vincent beside him, both dressed in black, prepared for battle. Word had reached them that a Lunar ritual had been performed in the forest. One of the patrolling guards hadn’t returned.
“I need you to stay here,” Lucien told Aria, gripping her shoulders tightly.
She frowned. “No.”
“This isn’t up for debate.”
“You’re not protecting me by leaving me behind, Lucien. You’re just walking into danger without me.”
Vincent stepped back discreetly as their voices sharpened.
“I can’t lose you,” Lucien said. “You don’t understand what it’s like—feeling the beast in my bones every time you’re near. If I lose control—”
“Then I’ll be there to bring you back.”
They stared at each other. The storm raged louder. Finally, Lucien exhaled.
“Then stay close. Don’t leave my side.”
Aria nodded.
---
They moved through the woods in silence—Lucien, Aria, Vincent, and two of Lucien’s most trusted guards.
The forest felt wrong.
Too quiet.
The rain fell like whispers, and every tree seemed to lean inward as though listening.
They found the altar first—shattered and still dripping with blood. The dagger was gone, but the runes pulsed faintly beneath the moonlight.
Selene’s voice echoed in Aria’s head.
If the curse isn't broken before the next blood moon… it will bind you both forever.
She touched her pendant. It was glowing again—brighter than ever.
And then—
A scream.
One of the guards vanished in a blur of black. The other went down before he could even draw his weapon. A blur of movement. Shadows shifting.
Then she emerged.
Nyra Vale stepped from the dark, the silver dagger in her hand, her cloak wet and gleaming.
“Well, well,” she purred. “The Moonbound lovers. I was beginning to think the curse would spare you.”
Lucien growled low in his throat, eyes beginning to glow.
Nyra grinned. “Ah. There it is. The beast within. Just like your father. So easy to summon. So easy to control.”
“You don’t control me,” Lucien snapped.
“But the curse does,” she replied, eyes shifting to Aria. “And she is its heart.”
Aria stepped forward, the pendant burning against her skin. “You want to finish what your ancestors started. But you’ll fail. Like they did.”
Nyra laughed. “They didn’t fail. They simply ran out of time.”
She raised the dagger—and the ground beneath them shook.
From the shadows, wolves emerged. Dozens. All with glowing red eyes and blackened fur—twisted by the curse. Not born wolves, but cursed ones.
Lucien’s form rippled, his control slipping. Aria felt it—the tremor in the bond between them.
If he shifted now, in rage, he might never return.
“Lucien,” she whispered, “stay with me.”
He looked at her, his jaw clenched, breath ragged.
And then he nodded.
Together, they turned to fight.
---
It was chaos.
Vincent shifted first—his wolf massive, silver-gray, cutting through cursed beasts like a blade. Aria fought beside Lucien, using the pendant as a weapon, its energy blasting cursed wolves back with pulses of moonlight.
But they were outnumbered.
Nyra watched from a distance, untouched, murmuring something in an ancient tongue.
Aria locked eyes with her. She understood in that moment—Nyra didn’t want to kill them.
She wanted to complete the curse.
She needed Lucien to lose control. She needed Aria to break.
The bond was the key.
And if she couldn’t destroy them physically… she’d shatter them emotionally.
Aria ran toward her.
The world slowed. Rain, fire, blood. The howl of Lucien as he roared into the night.
Nyra raised the dagger.
And Aria tackled her.
They fell into the mud, struggling. Nyra was stronger than she looked, fast and vicious. The dagger slashed Aria’s shoulder, but Aria didn’t stop. She reached for the runes on the hilt, the words Selene had once whispered etched into her memory.
She spoke them.
The dagger screamed.
And then exploded with light.
Nyra shrieked, thrown back. The cursed wolves howled, disoriented.
Lucien stumbled forward, bloodied but still himself. His wolf eyes met Aria’s.
And for a second, everything stilled.
The curse had pulsed.
But hadn’t claimed them.
Not yet.
---
Back at the manor, Selene watched the sky. The Blood Moon dimmed slightly, returning to a pale rose hue.
She whispered to the stars:
“The bond holds.”
- Writer
