Blood and Moonlight
1104 Words
The riverbank offered little solace. Cold seeped into their bones, a chilling echo of the fear that clutched their hearts. Talia’s trembling hands coaxed a weak fire from damp kindling, its flickering glow dancing with shadows of grief.
The scent of blood clung to the air—sharp, metallic, and cruelly familiar.
Exhaustion clawed at their limbs, but sleep remained a luxury they couldn’t afford. Alina curled beside her, shivering, too pale and too quiet.
They were fugitives now. Hunted by the very pack they had once called home.
Talia glanced at her sister. Alina had always been the more delicate of the two, her spirit bright but fragile. Talia had vowed to protect her, but the weight of that promise grew heavier with each breath.
Then, it came.
A low growl pierced the silence—deep, guttural, close. Not a lone wolf’s cry, but a pack.
Talia’s spine went rigid. Her hand flew to the hunting blade at her hip.
Before she could move, chaos erupted from the tree line. Rogue wolves, wild-eyed and filthy, descended with snarling fury. Fangs gleamed. Claws tore into the earth.
Talia didn’t hesitate. Her training surged forward, instinct overtaking fear. She became a blur—striking, ducking, shielding her sister. Her knife found flesh with surgical precision, a silver streak under the moonlight.
But the rogues were relentless.
A massive wolf slammed her to the ground. Its breath was hot and rancid against her skin as its jaws clamped down on her shoulder. Agony seared through her, but she twisted, slashing blindly until the pressure eased.
Then she heard Alina’s scream.
Blood streaked her sister’s face. Another rogue pinned her down, teeth bared, inches from her throat.
“Alina!” Talia roared. Fury exploded inside her. She lunged, grabbing a heavy branch and driving it into the wolf’s ribs. It yelped, retreating just long enough for Talia to pull her sister close.
“Get up!” she gasped, dragging Alina to her feet.
They rolled down the embankment toward the frigid river. The icy water stole Talia’s breath, but it bought them seconds.
Just as the wolves lunged to follow, another growl shattered the night.
It wasn't a rogue. It was deeper. Sharper. Commanding. It rolled through the trees like thunder.
King Lucian’s POV
Lucian had watched from the ridge, gauging whether the situation warranted his interference. But the moment he saw the redhead—bloodied, fierce, and fighting like a Valkyrie to protect her kin—the calculation ended.
He did not wait for orders. He became the order.
He shifted mid-air, a massive beast of midnight-blue fur and shadow, hurling himself into the fray. He tore through two rogues with lethal grace, his power undeniable.
His Beta, Casius, was right beside him, a blur of brown fur, making straight for the younger girl.
The rogues faltered. They hesitated. Then they broke ranks, scattering into the dark like roaches fleeing the light.
Silence returned—save for ragged breaths and the river crashing hard against the dark.
Lucian shifted back, the change fluid and practiced. A pack member quickly offered him clothing from the supply rolls. He pulled on dark jeans and a black thermal shirt, but his eyes never left the woman in the river.
Talia pulled herself from the water, teeth chattering, holding her sister close. Her knife was still in her hand, blood dripping from her arm. She looked like a cornered animal—beautiful, deadly, and terrified.
Lucian stepped forward. The energy around him was electric, crackling with the raw power of a King.
"My name is Alpha Lucian of the Royal Obsidian Ridge Pack," he said, his voice low and calm but undeniably dominant. "This is my Beta, Casius."
Casius, now dressed as well, was staring at the younger girl, Alina. His expression was dazed, his nostrils flaring as he took in her scent. A flicker of awareness—Wait. Was that...?
Lucian ignored Casius and focused on Talia.
"Are you two alright?"
Talia narrowed her eyes, keeping her blade raised. "We didn’t mean to cross into your territory. We were running."
Lucian tilted his head, studying her. The moonlight caught the fire in her hair and the steel in her amber eyes.
"You were fighting," he corrected. "You didn’t back down, even when it was hopeless."
"It was never hopeless," she snapped, her voice trembling with cold but not fear. "Not while my sister was still breathing."
Lucian felt a tug in his chest. A pull. Ancient. Heavy.
He took a step closer. The wind shifted, carrying her scent toward him.
It hit him like a physical blow.
Rain. Wildflowers. And fire.
His wolf roared to the surface, clawing at his mind, screaming one word: MINE.
Lucian froze, his pupils blowing wide.
Talia seemed to sway, the adrenaline finally fading, leaving room for the pain of her wounds. She blinked, her eyes losing focus.
"We... we have to go," she whispered, her knees buckling.
"You aren't going anywhere," Lucian growled—not out of anger, but out of a sudden, overwhelming need to possess.
Fresh off a brutal rejection, an escape that had spiraled into a desperate flight for their lives, Talia wasn't certain what was happening anymore. Nothing felt anchored—her thoughts slipped, fragmented, refusing to settle.
Kaela was gone.
Not injured.
Not weakened.
Withdrawn entirely.
The silence where her wolf should have been was louder than any wound.
Talia swayed, the surge of adrenaline finally burning out, leaving room for pain to claim its due. Her shoulder throbbed in sharp, pulsing waves. Every breath scraped raw against torn muscle.
She blinked.
Once.
Twice.
The world tilted.
Faces blurred at the edges of her vision, sound stretching and thinning until it felt distant, unreal. Her knees weakened, refusing the commands she sent them.
She registered the weight of someone’s hands tightening around her arms—steady, unyielding—as the dark began to close in.
He surged forward just as her eyes rolled back. He caught her before she hit the ground, her wet, cold body colliding with his warm chest.
Sparks.
Literal, blinding sparks erupted where their skin touched.
Talia gasped, her eyes flying open for one second, wide with shock as she stared up into his silver-blue gaze. She felt it too.
"Who..." she breathed, her voice barely a whisper.
Lucian looked down at the woman in his arms—the woman who had just turned his world upside down.
"I am your fate," he whispered.
Talia's last conscious thought.
It hadnt changed anything.
It had simply traded one danger for another.
Then darkness took her.
- Writer
