Blood Moon Union

The call came at 9:47 PM, just as Nia was settling into her couch, wine in one hand, remote in the other, ready to binge the latest episode of Shadow Huntress. The coven’s ringtone—a low, chiming melody that sounded like wind through bones—cut through the show’s opening theme. She groaned. Not tonight. But covens didn’t summon witches for casual chats. Especially not the Onyx Coven. Nia downed the rest of her wine, snatched her leather jacket, and muttered a quick ignition spell under her breath. Her car roared to life before she even touched the door handle. The farmhouse stood at the end of a long, gravel road, its white siding glowing under the moonlight. The place looked deceptively normal—if you ignored the wards humming beneath the soil, the way the wind stilled as she stepped out of the car, or the faint scent of burning sage curling from the chimney. Nia braced against the cold, her breath fogging in the air as she marched to the porch. The door swung open before she could knock. Inside, the coven elders sat in a half-circle, their faces grave. Diana—tall, sharp-eyed, her locs streaked with silver—stood at the center. The others, women Nia had known since childhood, watched her with a mix of pity and resolve. Oh, this is bad. “Sit,” Diana said. No greeting. No small talk. Nia stayed standing. “What’s going on?” Diana’s gaze didn’t waver. “The Bloodmoon Curse has resurfaced.” A chill crawled up Nia’s spine. She’d heard whispers of it—an old magic, a betrayal. A spell cast centuries ago that tied the fate of the Bloodmoon wolves to the Onyx Coven. “And?” Nia crossed her arms. “We’ve handled curses before.” “Not like this.” Another elder, Miriam, spoke softly. “It’s spreading. Draining our magic. Their wolves are going feral. If it isn’t stopped, both our bloodlines will be wiped out within a year.” Nia’s stomach dropped. “So break it.” Diana’s lips thinned. “There’s only one way.” Silence. Then— “You must marry the last Bloodmoon heir.” Nia barked out a laugh. “What?” “Under the full moon,” Diana continued, as if Nia hadn’t spoken. “Three weeks from tonight.” “No.” Nia shook her head. “Absolutely not. There has to be another way. A spell, a ritual—” “We’ve tried everything.” Miriam’s voice was gentle but firm. “This curse was forged in a union. It must be undone the same way.” Nia’s pulse roared in her ears. She looked around the room, searching for hesitation, for doubt. But the elders’ faces were set. They’ve already decided. Her hands clenched. “Who is he?” Diana exhaled. “Kai Redwolf.” The name hit like a lightning strike. She’d heard stories—a ruthless alpha, last of his line, more wolf than man. A shifter who hated witches. Nia swallowed hard. “And if I refuse?” Diana’s gaze didn’t waver. “Then we all die.” The words settled like a death sentence. Nia turned on her heel and walked out. The cold air slapped her face as she stormed to her car. Behind her, the farmhouse loomed, its windows glowing like watchful eyes. Three weeks. Three weeks until she was bound to a stranger. Three weeks until her freedom ended. She slammed the car door and let out a scream that shook the mirrors. Then she drove off into the night, the weight of fate heavy on her shoulders.