His Mate

The Night Of The Blood Moon

Chapter Three: The Night of the Blood Moon

Liora’s POV

Five years ago…

The night my father died, my world broke apart.

I could not breathe inside the pack house. The voices of the others, their whispers, their pity, it all pressed on my chest. My legs felt weak. My heart felt heavy. I wanted to run. I wanted to escape.

So I ran.

I left the cries behind, the sorrow, the sadness. I ran into the dark forest. The moon hung high above, glowing red. The Blood Moon. My wolf inside me stirred, restless, sad, aching for something I could not understand.

I did not want to think. I did not want to feel. I just wanted to hide. I wanted to forget.

By the river, I fell to my knees. The cold earth bit my hands. Tears rolled down my cheeks and fell into the dirt.

“Why did you leave me, Father?” I whispered, my voice breaking. My claws dug into the soil. I felt empty. Lost. Alone.

I did not see him at first. I only felt a presence. Strong. Powerful. Something in the air shifted, and my wolf growled softly.

I looked up, and there he was.

A stranger. Tall and broad. His golden eyes shone like fire, glowing in the moonlight. His scent came to me—strong, sharp, and dangerous—but also… calming. My chest thumped. My wolf’s ears perked.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he said, voice low, a growl hidden in his words.

I wiped my tears with the back of my hand, shaking. “I don’t care. I have nowhere else to go.”

He stepped closer. Shadows seemed to move with him, wrapping around his form. He looked like he belonged to the night itself. My wolf growled louder. Every hair on my body stood on end.

“Your heart is broken,” he said, as if he could smell every pain, every tear, every lonely moment I had kept inside.

I nodded, unable to speak. I could only feel. The ache inside me, the loneliness, the sorrow—I did not even know his name, but I felt he understood me.

Without thinking, without a word, I let myself fall into his arms. I held him tightly. His warmth spread through me like sunlight in winter. My chest felt lighter. My heart, broken and heavy, began to calm. I should have pushed him away, I should have run—but I could not. I clung to him as if my life depended on it.

The bond between us was wild. Raw. My wolf howled inside me. His wolf answered. Our hearts beat together. His hands on my body, his touch against my skin, it was fire and safety all at once. Under the red moon, I let myself forget the pain, the grief, the world. I let myself feel alive.

That night, I gave myself to him.

It was fast. Intense. Like the world had stopped. There was no past. No future. Only us. Only the fire of our bodies and the howl of our wolves in the dark. No promises. No questions. Just two broken souls finding each other in the night.

When dawn came, he was gone.

I woke alone by the river, the cold morning air biting my skin. My heart felt heavier than before. My body ached. My soul ached. I told myself it was a mistake. A secret to bury deep. A night that never should have happened.

I tried to forget. I tried to tell myself it was nothing. But the memory stayed. His golden eyes. His warmth. His touch. The way he had made me feel… alive.

And now…

Standing in front of him again, those same golden eyes burning into mine, I felt everything crash down on me.

He was the one.

The stranger from that night.

The wolf I could never forget.