ECLIPSE OF THE FATED LUNA

Chapter 5

Brielle’s POV

Morning light poured through the terrace doors and woke me before my alarm. I lay there for a moment, staring at the ceiling, the dream from last night still clinging to the edges of my mind like smoke.

Wolves. Red moonlight. That burning bite on my shoulder that had felt so real. I rolled my shoulders now, but there was nothing. Just smooth skin. But the restlessness in my body hadn’t gone away. It hummed under my skin, the same feeling I’d had in the gym when Thorne stood too close.

I pushed the thought aside and got up. Today was day one on the job. No time for strange dreams or handsome bosses who looked at me like I was a puzzle they wanted to solve. I chose my outfit carefully a black leggings, a fitted white tank with the Shadowridge logo I’d been given, and a lightweight hoodie in case the mountain air turned cool.

My chestnut hair went into a high ponytail, and I kept my makeup light.

Professional, approachable, ready to lead.

By nine-thirty, I was in the main wellness centre. The space was breathtaking: floor-to-ceiling glass overlooking the forest, bamboo floors, and rows of top-of-the-line equipment that smelled of new rubber and fresh citrus. A small group of guests waited there were eight of them, all high-profile. A tech CEO from Silicon Valley, a famous actress recovering from a breakup, two Wall Street types, and a couple of European influencers who recognised me instantly.

“Miss Arden!” one of them called, smiling widely. “We follow you religiously. This is going to be amazing.”

I smiled back, the familiar rush of confidence settling in. This was my world. I knew how to make people sweat, breathe, and leave feeling stronger.

“Thank you. We’re going to start with a blend of high-intensity intervals and mindful movement. By the end of the week, you’ll feel the difference.”

The session kicked off at ten sharp. I led them through a warm-up, then into circuits—burpees, mountain climbers, planks with breath work. The guests loved it. Sweat glistened, laughter mixed with groans, and phones came out for quick stories. I even filmed a short clip for my own feed, keeping the resort’s privacy rules in mind with no faces, just the stunning view and my voice guiding the moves.

Halfway through, the door opened quietly.

Thorne stepped in.

He wore a black polo and tailored athletic pants that did nothing to hide the power in his frame. Every head turned. The room temperature seemed to rise. He gave a polite nod to the group and took a spot at the back, joining the cool-down stretches like he was just another participant. But his silver-grey eyes found mine across the mats, and that same pull hit me square in the chest.

I kept my voice steady. “Add a twist to your forward fold… good. Now breathe into it.”

He moved with effortless control, muscles shifting under the thin fabric of his shirt. Every time I demonstrated a pose, his gaze lingered a second too long. The bond, if that was what this strange feeling was felt tighter today. Like a string someone was slowly winding between us.

After the final savasana, the guests applauded and filed out, chatting excitedly about booking private sessions. Thorne stayed behind, helping me roll up the mats.

“You’re good at this,” he said quietly, stacking the last one. “They were hanging on every word. Even the ones who usually hate group classes.”

“Thanks.” I wiped my face with a towel, trying not to notice how close he was standing. “It helps when the instructor actually believes in what she’s teaching.”

He smiled, small but real. “I promised you a tour of the private trails. The afternoon slot is clear. We can go after lunch if you’re free.”

My pulse jumped. Alone with him on a forest trail? Not ideal for keeping things professional. But refusing would look strange. “I’d love that. I want to see everything before I start planning more outdoor sessions.”

We agreed on two o’clock. I spent the next two hours answering guest emails and posting a quick story from the wellness centre. My follower count ticked up another few thousand while I worked. Everything felt normal until I stepped outside for the tour.

Thorne waited at the trailhead in hiking boots and a lightweight jacket, a small backpack slung over one shoulder. The afternoon sun filtered through the pines, but already the sky carried that faint crimson edge again, like yesterday’s warning had never really left.

We started walking. The path was wide and well-kept at first, then narrowed into something wilder, with towering trees and the sound of a distant waterfall. He pointed out features, the natural hot springs, the private meditation platforms, and the lookout that showed the entire resort nestled below like a jewel.

Conversation flowed more easily than I expected. He asked about my career, how I’d built it after losing my parents. I told him the truth, the late nights, the rejections, the way fitness had become my anchor. He listened as every word mattered, then shared a little of his own past: losing his parents young, stepping into the CEO role at twenty-one, the weight of keeping this place perfect for everyone who came here.

The air between us grew warmer the deeper we went. My skin prickled. Every time our arms brushed on the narrow sections of the trail, that spark jumped again. I caught myself staring at the strong line of his jaw, the way his black hair fell across his forehead when the wind caught it.

By the time we reached the waterfall overlook, the sun was dipping low. The sky had changed. What started as a soft pink now bled into deep red, spreading like ink. The moon was rising early; it was huge, swollen, and already stained crimson.

Thorne stopped beside me at the railing. His shoulders tensed. “We should head back soon,” he said, voice tighter than before. “The light changes fast up here.”

I nodded, but I couldn’t look away from the sky. The same red from my dream. The same red that had been painted on the gym last night. My shoulder tingled again, right where the phantom bite had been.

“Thorne,” I started, turning to him, “does this happen often? Is the moon turning red like this? It feels… wrong.”

He didn’t answer right away. His silver-grey eyes locked on mine, and this time the gold flash was unmistakable; it was bright, glowing, impossible to blame on the light. His breathing quickened. I saw his hands grip the railing, knuckles whitening, and for one terrifying second the tips of his fingers looked… sharper.

Darker. Like claws pressing against his skin.

A low sound rumbled in his chest—not quite a growl, but close enough to freeze me in place.

“Thorne?” My voice came out small.

He stepped back suddenly, eyes wide with something that looked like panic mixed with hunger. The crimson moon now hung fully visible above the trees, bathing everything in blood-red light.

And then I heard it—distant but clear. A howl. Not a dog. Not a coyote.

It was something wilder.

Thorne’s head snapped toward the sound. His eyes flashed gold again, brighter this time, and his lips parted just enough for me to glimpse teeth that were definitely not human.

“Run,” he said, voice rough and broken.

But my feet wouldn’t move. Because right in front of me, under the blood-red moon, Thorne Valtor was no longer just a man.