CHAPTER 8 — THE MOONBEARER’S MARK
1118 Words
Amara felt the world tilt beneath her feet.
Moonbearer.
The word echoed in her mind, strange and heavy, as though it didn’t belong to her at all. Her heart thundered, her breath caught, and her hands trembled despite the cold already numbing her fingers.
She stared at Kael.
“You’re telling me I’m… some kind of prophecy?”
Kael’s throat bobbed as he swallowed.
“Yes.”
Snowflakes drifted lazily around them, but the air felt sharp, charged—as if the forest itself held its breath.
Amara shook her head. “That’s impossible. I’m human.”
Kael stepped closer, his voice soft but unyielding.
“No, Amara. You were raised human. That’s different.”
Her pulse skittered.
“I—I don’t understand.”
“You will.” He reached out, hesitated, then gently took her hand in both of his. Warmth radiated through her like fire through frost. “But you need to breathe. One thing at a time.”
She tried. The cold air burned her lungs.
Kael lifted her hand to the moonlight.
“Look.”
At first, she saw nothing—just her skin, pale from the winter chill.
Then a faint shimmer appeared. A thin silver line… then another… slowly unfurling across the back of her hand like frost forming on glass.
A symbol.
Circular. Elegant. Ancient.
A crescent moon cradling a flame.
Amara yanked her hand back with a gasp. “What is that?!”
“The mark,” Kael said quietly. “The one only the Moonbearer carries.”
“I’ve never seen it before!”
“It was dormant.” His gaze softened. “Until tonight.”
She pressed her hand to her chest, as though she could hide the glowing sigil through sheer desperation. “Why now? Why suddenly? Why me?”
“Because your life was threatened. Because Rowan hurt you. Because your emotions were drowning you.”
A pause.
“And because your mate claimed you.”
Her breath caught again.
“You think the mark awakened because of you?”
Kael didn’t look proud. He looked tormented.
“It awakened because the bond recognized danger. Because your blood recognized me.” His voice dropped. “Moonbearers only awaken when fate demands it. When the world shifts. When the balance breaks.”
She couldn’t handle this. Not tonight. Maybe not ever.
“Kael… I’m just a girl. I work a normal job. I pay rent. I eat noodles when I’m too tired to cook. I’m not—” She broke off, voice cracking.
“You are not ordinary.” Kael’s hand hovered near her cheek but didn’t touch. “You never were.”
Amara blinked against the sting in her eyes.
“I don’t want to be a prophecy.”
“I know.” His voice softened. “But it wants you.”
The forest rustled around them—as if something unseen agreed.
A long silence stretched between them, heavy and fragile.
Then Kael finally asked, “Amara… can you walk? We need to get home. My pack lands are protected.”
She nodded shakily. “Yes. I think so.”
They resumed walking, though her legs felt unsteady. Kael stayed close, eyes scanning the forest like a predator ready to kill anything that moved.
After several minutes, Amara spoke again, voice small:
“What does a Moonbearer even do?”
Kael exhaled slowly.
“Moonbearers are born once every few centuries. They hold two gifts: the ability to amplify a wolf’s strength… and the power to destroy it.”
She froze. “Destroy wolves?”
“Any wolf,” he said darkly. “Even an alpha.”
Her stomach twisted.
“I don’t want that kind of power.”
“No one ever does.” He met her gaze. “But you won’t face this alone. You have me.”
The bond pulsed between them again—warm, electric, undeniable.
But before she could say a word, Kael stiffened.
He grabbed her arm, pulling her behind him just as a low growl ripped through the trees ahead.
Not the stranger from before.
This growl was deeper. Hungrier. Less human.
A pair of glowing red eyes appeared between the branches.
Kael bared his teeth. “A rogue.”
The wolf stepped into the clearing—massive, snarling, its fur matted with dried blood, its aura feral and wild.
Amara’s breath faltered. “Oh God.”
Kael shifted slightly, preparing to fight.
“Stay behind me. Whatever happens, don’t run.”
“But—”
“No,” he snapped. “If you run, it will chase. Stay with me.”
The rogue crouched low, saliva dripping from its jaws, its gaze flicking between Kael and Amara—
—and then it lunged.
Snow exploded beneath its paws.
Kael roared and launched forward, his body twisting midair as bones cracked, fur burst along his skin, and he collided with the rogue in a blur of claws and teeth.
Amara screamed.
Two wolves—one black as the night sky and one gray and mangled—tumbled into the snow with earth-shaking force.
Kael’s growl boomed through the clearing, powerful enough to rattle the trees.
The rogue snapped at his throat.
Kael twisted, slammed it into a tree, and tore into its shoulder.
Snow flew. Blood sprayed. The sound of snarling filled the air.
And then—
The mark on Amara’s hand began to burn.
She gasped, clutching it.
The symbol glowed brighter—hotter—like the moon itself was igniting beneath her skin.
“No… no no no—” She staggered backward. “Kael!”
Suddenly, the rogue froze mid-attack, its eyes going wide with terror as it turned its head toward her.
It whimpered.
Then collapsed to the ground.
Dead.
Kael shifted back instantly, crashing to his knees in human form, breath ragged.
He looked from the dead wolf… to Amara… to the glowing symbol.
His eyes were full of awe and fear.
“Amara…”
His voice was barely a whisper.
“You killed it.”
She shook her head frantically. “I didn’t do anything—!”
But the mark pulsed again, bright and alive with moonlight.
Kael swallowed hard.
“You don’t understand,” he said. “A rogue can’t be killed like that. Only an alpha or a—”
He stopped.
“Or a what?” she asked, trembling.
Kael rose slowly, stepping toward her with reverence and caution.
“Only a Moonbearer,” he breathed.
Amara stared at the dead wolf, her hand glowing silver, her heart hammering like thunder.
Everything inside her screamed one truth:
Her life could never, ever go back to normal.
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- Writer
