The Luna's Cursed Daughter

Chapter 3.

Chapter Three: Shadows in the blood

Eastern Wilds, Onyx Veil Stronghold, 2025

The pendant dangles from Kaelen’s hand, its crescent moon rune catching the torchlight like a warning. My heart hammers so loud I’m sure he can hear it, but I can’t tear my eyes from that etched symbol. I’ve seen it before—scratched in the margins of my mother’s journal, a relic from a life I was never allowed to know. The voice in my blood hums again, sharp and insistent: The door is opening. I press my hand to my chest, willing it to shut up, but it’s like trying to silence a storm.

“Zephyra,” Kaelen says again, his voice low, dangerous. “Explain this. Now.”

The young warrior—his name’s Gavyn, I think—hovers by the door, his eyes wide with fear, darting between us. I swallow, my mouth dry as ash. “I don’t know what it is,” I say, and it’s half-true. “I’ve seen the rune before, in my mother’s things, but I don’t know what it means.”

Kaelen’s eyes narrow, his scar twitching. “Your mother? The exiled healer? You expect me to believe you don’t know more?”

“I don’t!” I snap, my voice cracking. “She died when I was six, Kaelen. All I have are her journals, and they’re mostly ramblings about herbs and rituals. I didn’t even know she was exiled until I was older.” My hands tremble, and I shove them behind my back, hating how exposed I feel. “I’m not hiding anything.”

He steps closer, the pendant swinging like a pendulum. “Then why does this show up on a dead woman’s body? And now her mate’s gone too? You’re telling me that’s coincidence?”

I flinch, his words cutting deeper than I want to admit. “You think I did this? You think I’m what—cursing people to death?” My laugh is bitter, jagged. “I can’t even call my wolf, Kaelen. If I had that kind of power, don’t you think I’d use it to get out of this mess?”

He pauses, his gaze softening for a fraction of a second, like he’s seeing me for the first time. But then Gavyn clears his throat, shifting nervously. “Alpha, the healers are waiting. They’re saying… they’re saying it’s unnatural. Like something drained them.”

Kaelen’s head snaps toward him. “Drained them? What does that mean?”

Gavyn’s face pales further, if that’s possible. “They don’t know. Their bodies are… empty. No blood loss, no wounds, just… gone. Like their life was sucked out.”

A chill crawls up my spine, and that voice in my blood pulses again, a low thrum that makes my head spin. The key turns. I grip the edge of the table, my knuckles white. Kaelen notices, his eyes flicking to my hand. “You’re doing it again,” he says, quieter now. “That thing you did on the balcony. What’s happening to you?”

“I don’t know,” I whisper, and this time, it’s the whole truth. My chest aches, a hollow space where my wolf should be, but it’s not empty anymore. Something’s there, stirring, and it terrifies me. “I feel… something. Like a voice, but it’s not mine.”

His brow furrows, and for a moment, I think he’s going to push harder, but he turns to Gavyn instead. “Get the healers to seal the bodies in the crypt. No one touches them until I say so. And find Myrren. I want her in here now.”

Gavyn nods and bolts out, leaving us alone in the flickering torchlight. Kaelen sets the pendant on the table, its rune staring up at me like an accusation. “You’re going to tell me everything you know about your mother,” he says, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Start talking.”

I sink into the chair, my legs unsteady. “There’s not much to tell,” I say, my voice small. “Her name was Elyra. She was a healer in Cindergloom, but my father—Alpha Varyn—cast her out when he found out about me. I was a secret, a shame he couldn’t afford. She raised me in a hut on the edge of the Wilds until she got sick. Fever took her. I was sent back to Cindergloom, but I was never welcome.” I pause, the memories stinging. “Her journals were all I kept. They’re in my pack, back in my room.”

Kaelen leans against the table, crossing his arms. “And the rune? You said you saw it in her journals.”

I nod, my fingers tracing the table’s edge. “It was in a sketch, next to some ritual notes. Something about blood and bonds. I didn’t understand it—still don’t. She wrote in code half the time, like she was hiding something.”

He’s quiet, his eyes searching mine. “Hiding what?”

“I wish I knew,” I say, my voice breaking. “All I know is she loved someone she shouldn’t have. Someone my father hated. That’s why he sent me here—to get rid of me.”

Kaelen’s jaw tightens, and I brace for another accusation, but instead, he says, “You’re not the only one who’s been a pawn, Zephyra.” His voice is softer, almost raw. “This alliance? It wasn’t my idea either. Varyn’s got half the Wilds in his pocket, and I needed his steel to hold off the Bloodfangs.”

I blink, caught off guard. “You’re saying you didn’t want this? Me?”

He looks away, his scar catching the light. “I wanted a choice,” he mutters. “But the Moon-Blessed Mate hasn’t shown up, and the pack needs a Luna. You were the deal.”

His words sting, even though I knew it already. I’m a deal, a duty, nothing more. But there’s something in his tone—regret, maybe—that makes me wonder. “So what now?” I ask. “You think I’m killing people, and your pack hates me. How do we do this?”

He straightens, his Alpha mask sliding back into place. “We figure out what’s going on. Starting with that pendant and your mother’s journals. I need to know what we’re dealing with.”

Before I can respond, the door creaks open, and Myrren glides in, her robes whispering against the stone. Her pale blue eyes lock on me, and my skin crawls, just like it did on the balcony. “You summoned me, Alpha?” she says, her voice smooth as ice.

Kaelen holds up the pendant, his eyes never leaving her. “This was on Lira’s body. Her mate’s dead too. Care to explain?”

Myrren’s gaze flicks to the pendant, and for a split second, I swear I see fear in her eyes. But she recovers quickly, her smile serene. “A tragic loss,” she says. “The rune is old, tied to the Lunar Covenant. A ward, perhaps, or a curse. I’d need to study it further.”

“A curse?” I blurt, unable to stop myself. “You said I was the curse earlier. Now this?”

Her eyes narrow, but her smile doesn’t waver. “I said your presence unsettles the balance, child. And now we have two dead wolves. The goddess speaks through signs.”

“Enough,” Kaelen snaps, his voice a whip. “No more riddles, Myrren. If you know something, say it plain.”

She bows her head, but I catch the glint in her eyes, like she’s hiding a blade. “I will consult the omens, Alpha. But I warn you—her blood is not like ours. She carries something… other.”

My breath catches, and that ache in my chest flares again, sharper now. The key turns. I grip the table, my vision swimming. Kaelen’s hand is on my shoulder before I realize it, steadying me. “Zephyra, what’s wrong?” he asks, his voice urgent.

“I don’t know,” I gasp, the words barely audible. “It’s that voice again. It’s… louder.”

Myrren steps closer, her eyes gleaming. “A voice? Tell me, child, what does it say?”

I shake my head, fear clawing at me. “It’s not clear. Something about a key, a door. I don’t understand it.”

She leans in, too close, her breath cold against my cheek. “You must tell me everything. The Covenant is stirring, and you—”

“Back off,” Kaelen growls, pulling me away from her. “You’re not helping.”

Myrren straightens, her expression unreadable. “As you wish, Alpha. But the omens will not wait.” She turns to leave, but pauses at the door. “Zephyra, when you’re ready to face what you are, come find me.”

The door shuts behind her, and I’m left shaking, Kaelen’s hand still on my shoulder. “She’s wrong,” I say, more to myself than him. “I’m not… whatever she thinks I am.”

He doesn’t answer right away, and when I look up, his eyes are stormy, torn. “Get some rest,” he says finally. “We’ll deal with this tomorrow. I’ll have your journals brought to me.”

I nod, too exhausted to argue. He leads me to my chambers, a small room with a narrow bed and a single window overlooking the Wilds. The journals are in my pack, just as I left them, but as Kaelen turns to go, I grab his arm. “Wait,” I say, my voice barely a whisper. “Do you believe her? About me being… dangerous?”

He looks down at my hand, then back at my face. “I believe something’s happening, and you’re at the center of it. Whether that’s dangerous or not… we’ll find out.”

He leaves, and I’m alone with the weight of his words. I sink onto the bed, my hands shaking as I pull out my mother’s journal. The rune stares up at me from the page, its lines stark and familiar. But it’s the words scrawled beside it that stop my heart: The Spark wakes in blood. Beware the Eclipse.

A scream echoes from the courtyard again, sharp and desperate. I rush to the window, my pulse racing. Below, a figure stumbles in the moonlight, clutching their chest. Another wolf falls, their body crumpling like Lira’s, like her mate’s. The pack gathers, their howls rising, and that voice in my blood roars now, undeniable: The door is open.

And then I see it—a shadow moving in the trees beyond the stronghold, its eyes glowing like embers. It’s watching me.