Promise of the Moon Love’s Curse

One: The Outcast and the Silver Guardian The moon was full, a great silver coin that ruled the night in the “Valley of Wolves” and the wolves that lived within it. For any member of the Antalius tribe this was the night the galaxy threw them free from the restrictions of the human shell, the way back to wild nature. The scent was thick, like damp pine, new earth, and something far sharper, far more concentrated… the scent of the Shift. But for Elena, this night was only a bitter recall of what she had always known to be true. She was perched on a rocky ledge above the valley, distance enough away that no one could smell her faint “human” scent, but close enough that she could make out sounds of breaking bones and ripping flesh coming from camp. She listened with her eyes closed to the orchestral agony and ecstasy that was the changing of her kin. The first howl—a low, mighty bellow that broke the night’s silence—was met with dozens more, a chorus of beasts greeting their true skins. She gazed down at her hands. Pale, soft skin without the thick fur and sharp claws. Her nails were short and rounded, and she could see delicate blue veins underneath that were hidden away by the translucent nail. She felt no warmth flood through her veins, heard no “Call”—that ancient voice so often whispered about by the others, beckoning them to race and kill. She was twenty years old. The wolf had lain dormant within her all her life, not a single stirring, since she was born, the wolf had never risen within her. In a tribe that revered cruelty and savagery as strength, Elena was a genetic blunder, a cosmic prank. They called her “The Defective” and “n***d Skin” and sometimes, even more insultingly: “The Sheep.” “Why do you torment yourself with sitting here?” The voice came from behind her, quiet as at the rustling of leaves, but it had a weight that made the air seem to move around her. She didn’t flinch. She recognized this voice; her soul saw him before his lips even began to form. Slowly, she turned to address Caius. Caius wasn’t like any other men in the tribe. Whereas the rest were comfortably rounded in rough and exaggerated muscle even as humans, Caius radiated a chilling, regal beauty. Tall, with long silver hair which looked like it had been spun from the light of the moon and eyes that were grey and wise—and as sorrowful— as those of one who has lived for a thousand years. He wore a dark fur cloak, and upon his chest lay the talisman of the “Moon Guardian” — a silver crescent cradling a black meteorite stone. He is the only who hasn’t shifted tonight. He’s the only one who can’t shift ... but the one time he could. “I like to watch them,” Elena said, her voice making her want to cough. "I just like to pretend what they’re feeling are running free. " As Caius drew near, pausing immediately to stand beside her and peer down the valley where streaks of grey and black wolves whiz like arrows toward the denseness of the forest. “Fur isn’t freedom, Elena,” Caius whispered. “There is freedom in the mind.” She laughed bitterly, but not happily so. “That’s just what you say to make me feel better. You are the Moon Guardian, the greatest warrior in the tribe’s history. “All the other clans are scared of you, even when you’re in your human shape. But me . . . I’m just a drag. The Alpha, my father, won’t even meet my gaze. He recognizes the failure of his bloodline in me." Caius sprang around to face her, his penetrating grey eyes breaking down her walls. There was something in his stare that made her human heart beat faster, something more than the pity she had felt from others. “Your father sees what he wants to see,” Caius said softly but firmly. "When I look at you I don’t see a girl caught on in a horrible world without claws. “For that, you need a different sort of strength.” Elena sighed, turning back to the moon. “There are times I wish I were like you, Caius. You don’t have to shift every month. You are not a slave to the moon.” Caius’s body tensed imperceptibly, and a flicker of pain passed across his handsome face. “I’m not free of the moon, Elena. I am its eternal, faithful slave. My curse is not like yours.” She keel know the story, every child in the tribe did. The Moon Guardian is born once in a hundred years. His immense physical strength, and supernatural speed are above that of an ordinary werewolf, but he does not shift. An his inner wolf is not an ordinary beast, but an ancient spirit, a legendary creature-of immense power. This thing is trapped, locked inside Caius’s body, waiting. If Caius were to shift, even once, that power would be so incendiary it would consume his humanity utterly. He’d turn into a raging beast who can’t tell friend from enemy—a savior of the tribe against extinction, a tool of annihilation at their command, but the cost is he’ll never get to be a human again. He would always be a wolf, in soul and mind, or more likely he would die right after from the mere barrage of force. One shift. One choice. One life. "Do you feel him?" whispered Elena. "The wolf inside you?" Caius drew closer, closing the gap until she could catch his scent, the smell of rain and static electricity. “Let them talk as they please. Among all the monsters in the world, you are the only real one.” Before Elena could speak, a war horn shattered the night from the northern watchtowers. Elena froze. “The Black Horn...” she whispered fearfully. Caius’s expression shifted immediately. The shy man was gone, now there was only the warrior. His pupils dilated, the muscles in his neck tightened. “A raid ,” he said, his voice booming. “ The Blood Claws tribe is breaking through the northern border.”