The Mark of the Black Moon

🩸 The Storm Before the Rite The engine of the luxury sedan issued a grating screech at the edge of the Black Forest outside the Sterling Manor. Damon Volkov—the jet-black Alpha great wolf, now in his human form—sat inside with a grim expression. His long, powerful fingers gripped the car’s leather upholstery so tightly that the knuckles were white and taut, betraying the edge of rage and frenzy he was currently on. “Have the trackers been dealt with?” Damon’s voice was as cold as a permafrost lake; every word carried the undeniable Alpha pressure. The second-in-command, a veteran Wolf Clan warrior, sat ramrod straight in the front, feeling the murderous aura filling the air. He quickly responded, “All cleared, My King. But your Frenzy Factor is currently too powerful; you must find an outlet, or you risk harming yourself.” “An outlet?” A bloodthirsty, cold smile tugged at Damon’s lips. His pupils, burning with golden fire, peered through the car window toward the core of the vampire territory—Sterling Manor. “My ‘outlet’ is in that cage built from putrid blood and false pacts.” He violently shoved the car door open and vanished into the night like a shadow. 🕊️ The Bride in the Cage On the third floor of the ancient manor, a looming Blood Pact Ceremony chilled Ilara Vans to the bone. She wore a splendid but heavy silver gown, symbolizing her family's submission to the Vampire Duke. She was standing by the window, trying to breathe in one last gulp of freedom when a strange, powerful pull came from behind her. A shudder-inducing scent of forest wilderness and gunpowder instantly enveloped her. Before she could react, an iron-vise hot hand clamped firmly around her waist. She was hauled into a dark room and violently slammed against the cold stone wall. “No… Julian, this is only a contract marriage! You promised you wouldn't touch me!” Ilara cried out in horror, her voice trembling with terror. In the darkness, Damon's breath was like hot lava erupting near her ear. “Julian?” The deep laugh was filled with intense mockery and primitive hunting instinct, making Ilara’s eardrums buzz. “Do you think this body was prepared for that pack of immortal, rotting blood servants?” He ripped the silver fabric at Ilara’s chest, exposing her pale skin. She struggled desperately, but a human's strength against an Alpha was like a fragile feather beating against a boulder—futile. “Let me go! You can’t do this to me! This violates the Sacred Compact!” Desperate tears well up in her silver-grey eyes; she felt as if a colossal beast was tearing her apart in the darkness. Damon grunted impatiently: “A compact? I only acknowledge the calling of the bloodline.” He used the Wolf Clan’s immense power to pin her down. She felt the savagery from the wildlands, a flame more direct and aggressive than the vampire’s elegant chill. The moment she stopped struggling, Damon pinched her chin, declaring word by word, as if carving an indelible mark: “I will be responsible for you.” Exhausted by the brutal and primal possession, Ilara finally passed out. 👑 The Alpha's Proclamation In the early morning, the first ray of purifying sunlight slanted across the ancient grand bed, illuminating Ilara’s fair skin and the dark hair spread across the black silk sheets. She abruptly opened her eyes, every inch of her body screaming with tearing pain. She had been violated! But that scent... it was definitely not Julian. “You’re awake, my prey.” A strange, hoarse, yet magnetic voice spoke near her ear. She mechanically turned her head, her pupils instantly shrinking. What greeted her was a face of mixed-race handsomeness, yet filled with savagery and commanding presence. The man’s golden eyes burned with authority, the absolute power belonging only to the Supreme Leader of the Wolf Clan. “Who… who are you?” Ilara asked, trembling. “Your man. Damon Volkov.” Hearing the name, all color drained from Ilara’s face. Volkov! The ancestral arch-enemy of the Vampire Duke! “You! I am Julian Sterling’s fiancée! You cannot do this! You know you’ve shattered the order of the Supernatural World?” She shrieked, her body instinctively recoiling. Damon watched the fear on her face with satisfaction, his fingers tracing her swollen lips with absolute possessiveness. “Nephew’s wife? Order?” Damon sneered, his voice carrying a deep warning. “Woman, it was your bloodline that guided me into this decaying lair last night.” “Impossible! I was led to the second-floor chamber…” Ilara pleaded desperately. “This is the Main Tower’s Apex, the Alpha's Sanctuary.” Damon’s reminder was like a clap of thunder. Ilara glanced around in despair. The room was somber and austere, devoid of any vampire extravagance, filled only with the suffocating, dense aura of the Wolf Clan leader. Just then, a respectful knock came at the door. Ilara, startled as if shot by an arrow, dove under the covers, tightly wrapping herself in the bedding. Damon looked at the pitiful, restless little thing beside him. The coldness in his eyes dissipated, replaced by a teasing gleam: “Move closer, my little companion. Otherwise, this body, branded by the Wolf Clan, will soon be exposed.” Ilara pressed tightly against Damon’s chest like a terrified forest deer, feeling the scorching life force. “My King, your ancient Covenant Document…” A Wolf Clan officer’s voice sounded outside, clearly bewildered by the unusual silence. Damon raised a hand, gently stroking Ilara’s tightly secured nape. She could feel him declaring in a whisper meant only for her: “Be quiet. Don’t move, or I will complete the final branding right in front of him.” His breath was hot, and the fervor in his body returned. Ilara trembled with fear. She suddenly opened her mouth and bit down on a sensitive area of his chest, trying to stop him. “Mmm—” A muffled groan came from under the covers. “My King?” The officer outside inquired again. “Retreat!” Damon roared, the sound wave carrying the power of the Wolf King, sending the officer scrambling away. The moment the door closed again, Damon plunged back under the covers, clamping her flailing hands in his grip. “You dare challenge the Alpha’s patience in my own domain?” “You… you predator…” Before she could finish, her lips were sealed by his wild force. Suddenly, the urgent shouts of the officer returned outside the door: “My King! The Vampire Duke is assembling his blood servants and is heading this way!” Damon instantly threw off the blanket, his face overshadowed as if by a black moon, blazing with violent fury: “Get out!!!”