Three Alphas,One Luna

Chapter One: Marked by the Moon Three Alphas, One Lunar --- The moon bled red that night Seraphina Rivers turned eighteen. It was not one of those nights anywhere in Duskfall. The skies burned with dark violet and fire-red hues as if the stars were holding their breaths in anticipation of something. The leafy trees in the woods whispered on the wind like the hissing breath of the dead. A hawk shrieked in the distance, cutting and brief, as if greeting the world to what was to be. And Seraphina stood at the forest's edge, her feet bare, her cloak over her ankles, her hands trembling at her sides. She shouldn't have been here alone. But she had to be. For weeks, she had been feeling the pull in her chest—a magnetic draw drawing her into the woods. Into the ruins where the moonlight always fell just so. Into the place where her dreams began to permeate her life. The symbol on her shoulder blades—the curved moon in silver runes—pulsed now, as if it felt the shift in the sky. She gasped, arching backward as warmth spread from the symbol like fire. Her knees struck the cold ground. Then the voice. Not loud, not terrestrial. It wasn't really a sound at all, but a presence. It was felt. A whisper in her soul. "You are mine, child of moonlight." The world around her grew hazy. She was witnessing things through her closed eyes—wolf eyes blazing with gold light in darkness, claws tearing through enemies, a woman obscured by silver mist offering out a hand. Her. Her lungs gasping for air. Her body twisting in pain. But Seraphina did not scream. She somehow recognized that this was what she had waited for. Her Awakening. --- A soft flutter behind her returned her to the present. "Seraphina!" A voice that she knew. Miriam. Seraphina wiped away tears, her vision still blurring from light. Miriam, shawled thickly over the shoulders, hurried to her, boots crunching through dead leaves on the ground. "You should not have come here alone," she said brusquely, kneeling beside her. Her fingers fluttered nervously above Seraphina's shoulders. "You felt it, didn't you?" Seraphina nodded. "It's. starting." Miriam's lips set. She regarded the moon, her furrowed face veiled in worry. "Theseus V. The convergence is real." She helped Seraphina to stand, brushing dirt from her arms. "We have to get out of here." "I have to stay here," Seraphina argued. "I have to understand what is happening to me." Compass was written on Miriam's face. "Then you will. But not here. Not tonight. While they come." Seraphina's eyes were filled with suspicion. "Who?" A wolf howl rose through the trees. Seraphina's face became serious. Long. Deep. Alpha-born. Then another. And a third. Miriam's grip on his arm constricted. "The ones bound to your mark. The ones who will shape your future. or destroy it." --- Duskfall was built of myth, but even myth holds truths concealed deep. The town the next day moved with restless unease. Merchants muttered in low voices at marketplace stalls. Elders lit white candles in front of doorsteps. The temple bells did not ring. Because the Alphas were coming. Seraphina stood on the second-story balcony of the old manor, her hands wrapped around a demasilked mug of cooled herbal tea. Her heart was still in a frenzied beat. Inseveral parts, her dream had been wolves closing in. Their eyes knew her. Their hearts were hers. It made no sense. And yet it seemed more real than anything else. She had barely said anything to Miriam since returning from the forest. The elder woman had simply whispered, "Prepare," and returned to her watch on the horizon. By mid-morning, the first car had arrived. A black SUV crept silently down the gravel road. Alfred Blackthorn, Alpha of Silverfang, emerged. He stood just as Seraphina had imagined from whispered gossip—tall, aquiline-face, hair as dark as ink, his high-buttoned coat tailored to perfection. He strode with the confidence of a man who measured every step, who trusted nothing and no one. He looked up. Their eyes met. A spark danced between them. Recognition. And he turned to speak to his Beta, lips immobile, face chillier than winter. --- Two hours ticked by, and a rider rode in. Almond Virell. He was not armored, not wearing a magnificent coat. Only soft forest-colored robes and a hood that fell back to show shoulder-length, silver-streaked hair and gentle golden eyes. His horse was white and silent, matching the quiet that surrounded him. He lowered himself slowly from horseback, fingers touching the mane of his mount. He smiled up at the manor, eyes warm. Seraphina swallowed. There was no mathematics in him. Only silent power. She did not know why, but she wanted to cry. Then the last one appeared. On the brink of twilight. No car. No horse. Only footprints. Richard Drayke—Alpha of Crimson Hollow—showed up in town topless, blood drying on his knuckles. His chest labored with every gasp as if he battled the ground itself. He was war incarnate. When he reached the gates of the manor, he didn't knock. He leaned his arms against the iron railing, looking up at Seraphina's balcony. And smiled. Not kindly. Not safely. Hungry. --- That night, the three Alphas were housed in separate wings of the ancient fortress manor. Seraphina stalked the hallways like a ghost, thudding heart pounding against ribcage as she looked at solid wooden doors. Each one hid a man she didn't understand—but somehow knew. And he knew her. The air vibrated. In the temple chamber below, Miriam tread the course of moonlight. The convergence was accelerating. The burns on Seraphina's back seared once more. She moved across the room to the high mirror, pulling off her shirt. The crescent pulsed with a gentle light, the runes swirling. "You must choose," whispered the voice of the Moon Goddess. "But how can I," Seraphina whispered, "when I don't even know who I am yet?" No answer. Only the sound of footsteps outside her door. ---