Bound by the Blood Moon

Chapter 1 The Red Moon’s Scent

Chapter 1 The Red Moon’s Scent

English Original Text

The air turned thick and metallic the second the full moon blushed crimson over Blackthorn Forest. I tightened the frayed hood of my gray cloak, bare feet brushing sharp moss stones as I ran deeper into the woods. Tonight was the annual Moon Call, the day Silverthorn Pack forced unmated females to attend a ceremony to be matched with random low-rank wolves. I’d rather hide in the wild dark than let anyone tie me to a man I would never love. My blood hummed under skin, a faint cold thrumming only half-human wolves carried. Mother used to say this power would wake on a red moon, but she was gone long before I turned eighteen. Stormfang soldiers dragged her away ten years ago, and no one in my pack dared speak her name anymore. A low, rumbling growl cut through the crickets’ chirps. I froze. The forest shadows split apart, and a towering male shifter stepped into the thin silver moonlight. His upper body was bare, scarred muscle coiled tight, black wolf fur clinging to his jawline—half shifted, beast gold eyes blazing straight into mine. The scent crashed over me in the next heartbeat: wild pine, iron blood, a primal dominance that made my knees shake without control. Stormfang Alpha. Ronan Stormborn. The man whose pack slaughtered my mother. He took one slow step forward, and the ground trembled faintly beneath my feet. His wolf snarl vibrated through the quiet woods. “Half-blood stray. What are you doing trespassing on Stormfang territory during blood moon?” My throat locked tight. I forced myself to stand straighter, even as my body screamed to run. “This forest belongs to no single pack. I’m just hiding.” His golden eyes narrowed. He sniffed the wind once, and every hard line on his face went rigid. The beast under his skin roared, loud enough to rattle oak leaves all around us. “Your scent.” His voice dropped into a dangerous dark purr. “It’s mine.” I stumbled backward, heart hammering against my ribs. I’d heard the old legends—fated mates, bonded by lunar aroma. I never thought it would happen to me, least of all with the Alpha who destroyed my family. “I don’t belong to you.” I spat the words out, palms curling into tight fists. “I will never be your mate.” A flash of raw rage crossed his face. In one brutal stride, he closed the distance between us, one large hand clamping firm around my wrist. His touch burned like molten silver against my skin. “The moon does not care about your wishes, little wolf.” His gaze dropped to my neck, where every lycan’s mate mark would bloom. “The bond is already sealed. You feel it too, don’t you? Your wolf cries for me.” I twisted hard to pull free, but his grip was unbreakable. A strange warm tingle spread from my wrist up to my throat, a magic I could not fight. The red moon hung low above the treetops, pouring bloody light all over our tangled figures. “Let me go!” I shouted, panic sharp in every syllable. “I hate your pack. I hate you.” He leaned down, hot breath brushing my ear, his tone low and possessive, full of ancient dark longing. “Hate me all you want, Layla of Silverthorn. The blood moon has chosen you as my fated mate. There is no escape.” His sharp wolf fang grazed the soft skin of my neck, and I knew in that moment my quiet, escaping life had ended forever.