Destined under the blood moon:Tale of crossed star lovers

The blood moon rose like a wound in the sky. Scarlett Shadowborn stood at the window of the birthing chamber, her newborn son cradled against her chest. The infant's tiny fist curled around her finger, his eyes squeezed shut against the crimson light that bathed the room. He was perfect. Ten fingers, ten toes, a crown of pale blonde hair already forming on his small head. But the moon's color made her stomach twist with dread. "Scarlett." Damon's voice was soft behind her. Her mate, her king, wrapped his arms around them both. "Come away from the window. You need rest." She shook her head, unable to tear her gaze from the sky. "It's never been this red before. Not in all the blood moons I've seen." "It's just a moon." "Nothing is ever just anything when it comes to our son." She looked down at the baby, who had begun to fuss. His little face scrunched up, preparing to cry. She rocked him gently, humming low in her throat until he settled. "The witch will be here soon." Damon stiffened. She felt it in the way his arms tightened around her, protective and possessive all at once. "We don't have to listen to her prophecies. We can send her away." "And spend the rest of our lives wondering?" Scarlett turned to face him, careful not to jostle the baby. Her mate's face was drawn with exhaustion. He'd been at her side through every moment of the labor, holding her hand, wiping her brow, whispering encouragement. Now his amber eyes were shadowed with worry. "No. We need to know." A knock at the door made them both turn. "Enter," Damon called. The door opened to reveal a young woman. She was striking, her raven hair adorned with delicate silver beads, her eyes a luminous shade of pale green. She didn't walk; she just slid, her bare feet making no sound on the floor. Her eyes were sharp, missing nothing as they swept over the royal family. She was Tatiana the leader of the strongest coven. "Majesty." She bowed. "You called for me." "We did." Damon stepped forward, placing himself between the witch and his family. Always the protector. Always the king. "Our son was born under the blood moon. We would hear what fate the moon has written for him." The witch's eyes fixed on the bundle in Scarlett's arms. The baby had fallen asleep again, oblivious to the weight of destiny pressing down on the room. "May I?" Scarlett's arms tightened instinctively. But Damon nodded, and she forced herself to relax. Tatiana shuffled forward, her slender hands reaching out to hover just above the infant's head. She didn't touch him. She didn't need to. The air in the room changed. Scarlett felt it like a pressure in her chest, heavy and suffocating. The candles flickered though there was no wind. The baby stirred, whimpering, but didn't wake. The witch's eyes rolled back in her head until only the whites showed. When she spoke, her voice was not her own. It echoed as though coming from a great distance, layered with something ancient and unknowable. "When shadow moon bleeds crimson bright, two souls shall merge the dark and light. The daughter born of a demon's flame, the son who bears no father's name. Together break what pride has torn, but unity demands blood sworn." The witch gasped and stumbled backward. Damon caught her before she could fall, steadying her with surprising gentleness for a man of his size. The old woman blinked rapidly, her eyes returning to normal. She looked shaken. "What does it mean?" Scarlett demanded. Her heart was racing. "The son who bears no father's name? He has a father. You're standing right here." "Prophecies are rarely clear, my queen. They show possibilities, not certainties. Paths that may be walked, not roads already traveled." "Tell us what you saw," Damon said quietly. There was steel beneath the softness of his words. "All of it." The witch's gaze drifted back to the sleeping infant. "I saw greatness and I saw shadow. I saw a choice that will reshape the world. I saw love that should not exist and a bond that cannot be broken." She paused, her expression troubled. "I saw the moon weeping blood." "That's not an answer," Scarlett said. Her voice came out sharper than she intended. Fear made her cruel. "Is he in danger? Will something happen to him?" "Something will always happen to those marked by prophecy, child." Tatiana's voice was gentle now, almost pitying. "The question is whether they will rise to meet it or be crushed beneath its weight." She turned to leave, her steps carrying her toward the door. But she paused at the threshold, looking back one last time. "Guard him well. Some would use him for their own ends. Those who would see him destroyed before he can fulfill his purpose." Then she was gone. Silence filled the chamber like a living thing. Scarlett looked down at her son, this tiny creature who had entered the world only hours ago. He slept peacefully, unaware that his fate had just been spoken over him. Unaware that the moon had marked him for something neither of his parents understood. "We'll protect him," Damon said fiercely. He wrapped his arms around them both again, forming a shield of warmth and strength. "Whatever comes, we'll face it together. As a family." Scarlett wanted to believe him. She pressed her face against her son's soft hair, breathing in his sweet newborn scent. "Theron," she whispered. "We'll call him Theron. After your father." "Theron Shadowborn." Damon's voice was thick with emotion. "A good strong name for a future king." A future king. The words should have filled her with pride. Instead, they only deepened the cold dread in her stomach. She thought of the witch's words. The son who bears no father's name. What did it mean? How could her son not bear his father's name when he stood right here beside them? A movement in the doorway caught her eye. Darius stood in the shadows of the hall, his tall frame barely visible in the dim light. Damon's older brother. The one who had been passed over when their father chose Damon to inherit the throne. His green eyes were fixed on the baby in Scarlett's arms, and the look on his face made her blood run cold. It was hunger. Pure and simple. The look of a man who had been denied something he believed was rightfully his, watching someone else hold it. "Darius." Damon's voice held a note of warning. "It's late." "I wanted to meet my nephew." Darius stepped into the room, his movements controlled and graceful. Everything about him was controlled. Too controlled. Like a predator pretending to be tame. "May I?" "He's sleeping," Scarlett said quickly. She turned slightly, angling the baby away from Darius's reaching hands. "Perhaps tomorrow." Something flickered across Darius's face. Anger, quickly masked. He dropped his hand. "Of course. Forgive me." His eyes met hers, and she saw something terrible lurking in their depths. "Congratulations, brother. On the birth of your heir." The way he said the word heir made it sound like a curse. Darius left as silently as he'd come, melting back into the shadows of the hallway. Scarlett felt Damon tense beside her. "He's been different lately," Damon said quietly. "Distant. Angry." "He's always been angry." Scarlett couldn't keep the bitterness from her voice. She'd rejected Darius as her mate five years ago due to his controlling nature and had chosen Damon, who made her realize what a true mate bond felt like. Darius had taken it badly. He'd taken everything badly since their father had chosen Damon over him. "He feels the world owes him something." "He's still my brother." "That doesn't mean you can trust him." Damon was quiet for a long moment. Then he sighed, the sound heavy with a burden Scarlett couldn't see. "Get some rest. I'll have guards posted outside the door tonight." "You think he'd hurt Theron?" "I think I'd rather be careful and wrong than careless and devastated." He kissed her forehead, then pressed his lips gently to their son's crown. "Sleep. I have to attend to some business, but I'll return soon." Scarlett wanted to protest, to make him stay, but she was exhausted. The birth had taken everything from her. She nodded and let the midwives help her to the bed, still cradling Theron against her chest. She wouldn't let him go. Not tonight. Maybe not ever. As she drifted toward sleep, the witch's words echoed in her mind. The son who bears no father's name. Together break what pride has torn. Unity demands blood sworn. Outside the window, the blood moon watched. And in the shadows of the castle, Darius Shadowborn stood alone in his chambers. His hands clenched into fists at his sides, knuckles white with tension. Everything he'd ever wanted had been handed to his younger brother. The throne. The respect. The love. Now Damon had an heir. A son to carry on his bloodline. A legacy that would endure. While Darius had nothing. "It should have been mine," he whispered to the empty room. "All of it should have been mine." The blood moon cast its crimson light through his window, painting everything the color of spilled blood. And in that light, Darius made a promise to himself. One day, he would take back what had been stolen from him. One day, he would be king. No matter what it costs. No matter who stood in his way. Not even his brother's newborn son. The moon continued its silent watch over the kingdom of Volaria, bearing witness to the seeds of betrayal being planted in the darkness. Seeds that would take root and grow and eventually choke the very life from the kingdom itself. But that was still two years away. For now, in the birthing chamber, a mother held her son and dreamed of a future where prophecies were just words and blood moons were just tricks of the light. She dreamed that love would be enough to protect him. She was wrong. *** **Two years later...**