Marked By The Moon Goddess

If they caught her tonight… she would die. Fear had been Lyra Vale’s only companion for seven years. It lived in her bones, whispered through her thoughts, and followed her even into sleep. It never left her—not in darkness, silence, or dreams. But tonight felt different. Stronger. Louder. Wrong. Lyra sat curled in the corner of her cold stone cell, arms wrapped tightly around her knees. The thin fabric of her dress offered little protection against the freezing air. Her body ached constantly, a dull pain she had long since accepted. Yet something else unsettled her. Silence. Every night there were sounds—boots scraping against the floor, cruel laughter echoing through the halls, chains dragging, and screams. But tonight… nothing. Not even a whisper. Holding her breath, she listened harder. Still nothing. Something was wrong. Her hollow gaze settled on the iron door. Locked. Always locked. It had never been anything else. But a quiet voice inside her urged—check. With trembling legs, Lyra forced herself upright. Pain shot through her limbs as she took one step, then another, until she reached the door. This had to be a trick; hope had been used against her before. Even so, she couldn’t ignore it. Her shaking hand grasped the cold metal handle. She held her breath and pushed. The door creaked open. Unlocked. For a moment, her mind went blank. Freedom didn’t feel real—it felt fragile, as though it might vanish if she believed in it. Then a loud crash echoed from above, followed by angry, distracted voices. Her heart pounded. This was real. This was her chance. Lyra slipped into the dim hallway, moving slowly and silently. The air smelled damp and metallic. Every step sent pain through her body, but she ignored it. Freedom mattered more. Turning a corner, she froze. Footsteps approached. Panic surged as she searched for a hiding place. A broken door slightly ajar offered refuge, and she slipped inside, pressing herself against the wall. The footsteps grew louder until a man passed. Lyra clamped a hand over her mouth. The steps slowed, then stopped outside. “Something feels off…” the guard muttered. Her entire body trembled. Please… just go. After a tense moment, the footsteps continued and faded away. Lyra exhaled shakily and resumed moving. At the end of the corridor stood the staircase—the way out. Memories surged of being dragged down those steps years ago, screaming and begging for mercy. No one had come. But tonight, she would climb them herself. Each step felt heavier than the last, her breathing uneven and vision blurred. At the top, a door stood half open, moonlight spilling through. She pushed it open, and cold night air rushed over her. She was outside. After seven years, she was finally free. The scent of trees filled her lungs, fresh and alive. Above, the sky stretched endlessly beneath a glowing full moon. For a brief moment, she simply stood there, overwhelmed. Then a shout shattered the stillness. “They’re gone! Check the cells!” They knew. Panic surged, and Lyra ran into the forest. Branches tore at her skin, and sharp twigs cut into her feet as her breathing became ragged. “Find her!” The voices were closer than expected. They were already searching. She pushed herself harder despite her weakening body. The forest swallowed her, moonlight guiding her path as time blurred and her strength faded. Suddenly, a sharp, burning pain shot through her wrist. Crying out, she stumbled and grabbed her arm. The silver mark glowed—bright, unnatural, alive. It pulsed once, twice, then again. “What… is this…?” she whispered. The glow faded, but something had changed. Her body felt heavier, drained, and her vision darkened. Footsteps echoed faintly behind her. “No… please…” She tried to move, but her legs gave out. Lyra collapsed onto the cold ground, tears slipping silently down her face as darkness crept in. “Not… like this…” At least… I made it out… Her eyes closed. ⸻ A powerful presence moved through the forest—fast, silent, deadly. Alpha Damon Blackwood stopped abruptly, his senses sharpening. An unfamiliar scent reached him—female, weak, yet beneath it something powerful. His wolf surged. Mate. Impossible. After all these years… He moved swiftly and soon found her lying on the ground, broken and barely breathing. As he stepped closer, the bond struck him with undeniable force. Mate. His jaw tightened as he took in the bruises and scars covering her body, a dangerous anger settling within him. “Who did this to you…” he murmured. Her eyes fluttered open, filled with raw terror. “Please… don’t… take me back…” she whispered before going still again. Damon’s expression hardened. Whoever had done this would pay. He lifted her gently into his arms. “You’re under my protection now.” Far in the distance, hidden in the shadows, a man watched. A slow smile spread across his face as he typed and sent a message. The girl is alive. And this time… they’re ready.