Legend of the Moon Goddess (ENGLISH VERSION)

Chapter 2: Lunar Spring

Hester carried Serene deep into the heart of Woods, where the trees grew so thick the rain could barely touch the ground. She stopped before a hidden cliffside where a small, silver waterfall veiled the entrance to a secret glade. Tucked behind the mist was the most beautiful cottage Serene would ever know.

It was a house made of ancient stone and silvered cedar, appearing more like a natural mound of the earth than a man-made dwelling. Thick, emerald moss carpeted the roof, serving as a living insulation that muffled every sound from within. The walls were wrapped in "Ghost Ivy," a rare vine whose pale leaves shimmered especially in the dark, acting as a natural camouflage that made the cottage vanish into the gray mist of the falls.

Inside, the air was a soft embrace of cedarwood and dried chamomile. It was a masterpiece of rustic safety. The windows were small and set deep into the stone, allowing light to enter but preventing any flickering candle flame from being seen by any trespassing in the woods.

The heart of the home was a wide, stone hearth that radiated a constant, gentle heat. Thick, hand-woven wool rugs covered the floorboards, ensuring that even a restless footstep made no noise. Every corner was filled with the clutter of a healer—jars of glowing herbs, soft baskets of wool, and hand-carved wooden toys that waited for a child to grow into them.

It was a place where the passage of time felt slow and sleepy. Safe behind the curtain of the waterfall and shielded by the ancient magic of the forest, the cottage was a silent fortress. For Serene, it wasn't just a house; it was a womb of wood and stone where the shadows of enemies could never reach.

“We’re here, baby, and you’re safe. Let me check you,” Hester said gently. She began to scan Serene, who smiled widely up at her. Hester sighed in relief when she didn't see any cuts or bruises.

“Well, at least you’re safe, right?” she said with a giggle, tickling the baby. Serene laughed and extended her little arms toward her.

“What do you want? Hmm?” Hester didn't understand Serene’s babbling, but when the baby started to fuss and sucked her thumb, Hester finally got it.

“Oh! Hungry!” Hester placed the baby in a small crib and went to the kitchen to prepare some milk. When she returned, she gathered Serene into her arms, watching as the baby silently drank from her bottle. Serene’s eyes drifted open and shut, and Hester knew she was falling asleep.

“You’re beautiful, Serene,” she whispered.

Serene truly was a beautiful girl. Her skin was the color of cream and crushed pearls, so pale and flawless that it seemed to hold a faint, inner glow even in the dimmest light.

“I think your future man will be the luckiest creature in the universe,” Hester mused, “but he will be the envy of every other woman.”

Looking at the sleeping child, Hester couldn't can’t wait for her to grow up.

______

"Serene, dear," Hester called from the kitchen, the scent of dried rosemary clinging to her apron. Years have passed, Serene indeed grow up smart, gentle and obedient.

"The jars are empty. You need to go to pick star-anis and wild ginger at Lunar Spring. Be quick, but stay off the main path. The forest seems restless today."

"Yes, Grandma," Serene replied softly. She donned her hooded cloak, her long black hair braided neatly down her back.

The morning sun was still low, casting long, protective shadows across the forest floor as Serene stepped onto the arched wooden bridge. The river below hummed its usual guardian song, but as she moved deeper toward the Lunar Spring, a different sound drifted through the trees.

It wasn't the wind, and it wasn't the birds. It was the low, rhythmic rumble of male voices.

Serene froze, her heart leaping into her throat.

Strangers.

She remembered Grandmother’s warning about the restlessness of the woods. A cold prickle of fear raced down her spine, and her first instinct was to turn and run back to the safety of the stone cottage.

But she couldn't. Grandma needed the star-anis and wild ginger for the noon meal, and Serene had never been a girl to leave a task unfinished.

So she rushed toward the edge of the clearing where the spices grew. Her fingers trembled as she plucked the aromatic roots and seeds, stuffing them into her wicker basket with frantic haste.

“Just get the spices and go” she told herself, her breath coming in shallow hitches. “Don't look, don't stay, just go.”

She turned to flee, her boots already pivoting on the moss, when a sudden burst of raucous laughter echoed from the direction of the fountain. It wasn't the sound of hunters or monsters; it was the sound of joy. It was vibrant, wild, and full of a life she had never experienced within the quiet walls of her sanctuary.

Curiosity, sharp and irresistible, hit her like a physical weight. Her feet stayed rooted to the spot. “Who were they? What did they look like?” She asked in her mind.

Against her better judgment, she crept toward a massive, gnarled willow tree near the water's edge. Holding her breath until her chest ached, she eased herself behind the trunk and peered through the hanging, leafy tresses.

In the center of the glade, a group of young men stood. They were unlike any humans she had ever seen—larger, more vibrant, and radiating a raw, wild energy that made the air feel electric.

"Enough! If I take one more hit from Eurae, I’m going to shift right here and bite his leg off!" a boisterous voice shouted.

Serene watched, wide-eyed, as a man named Migs peeled off his tunic and dove headfirst into the crystal-clear basin of the fountain.

One by one, the others followed, their top-naked bodies glistening with sweat and dust as they hit the cold water. They leaned against the mossy stones, shaking their wet hair and laughing.

"Did you see the girls on the ridge during the archery drill?" Xavier asked, grinning as he slicked his hair back. "Mara was waving so hard I thought she’d fall off the rock. I think she was trying to get Wyatt to look up, but he just kept punching that sandbag like it had insulted his ancestors."

"She’s wasting her time," Eurae laughed, splashing Xavier. "Wyatt doesn't have a heart; he has a whetstone in his chest. But I wasn't complaining! Elena was blowing kisses every time I landed a strike. It’s a wonder I didn't trip over my own feet."

"They're bold today," Migs added, looking toward the trail where the women’s unit had just passed. "Waving, flirting, making eyes... the Full Moon feast must be closer than I thought. The whole pack is restless."

Serene’s gaze drifted to the man they had mentioned. Wyatt was not laughing. He sat in the center of the water, he remained silent, the water is rippling around his broad, scarred shoulders. He was top-naked, the sun catching the powerful lines of his chest and the dark, wet hair that clung to his forehead. He looked less like a man swimming and more like a predator waiting for a ripple in the current.

“He was breathtakingly handsome.” she uttered.

Suddenly, Wyatt’s head snapped in her direction. The laughter of his friends died instantly as they saw his expression shift.

"Out. Now," Wyatt commanded. His voice wasn't loud, but it cut through the splashing like a blade.

The laughter stopped instantly. The men scrambled out of the fountain, grabbing their weapons in a blur of wet skin and steel.

"What is it, Wyatt?" Jax whispered, his eyes scanning the green.

"I saw something." Wyatt muttered, his nostrils flaring. "It's not a wolf. A human." He looked at his friends. "Go. Finish the patrol. I’ll handle the scout."

The men didn't argue. They vanished into the thicket, leaving Wyatt alone, standing waist-deep in the shimmering water.

"Who is there? Come out, or I will kill you where you stand!" Wyatt’s voice echoed off the rocks, dark and lethal.

Serene felt her heart stop. She couldn't hide any longer. Slowly, she stepped out from behind the gnarled willow tree. She kept her head bowed, her black hair falling over her shoulders, her hands trembling as she clutched her wicker basket.

"I... I am sorry," she whispered, her voice a fragile breath in the morning air.

She stole a shy, terrified glance at the man in the water. Seeing him fully—his powerful, bare chest glistening with droplets of water, his dark eyes locked onto her with terrifying intensity—made her face turn a deep, burning crimson. She had never seen anything so raw or so beautiful. She was shy, she was scared, but looking at him, she felt a strange, magnetic heat she didn't understand.

Wyatt froze. He had expected a threat, but he found a girl. A teenage girl aging 15 or 16.

A girl who looked like she was made of moonbeams and innocence. He waded out of the fountain, the water cascading off his muscular frame as he approached her, towering over her small form. He reached out, his large, wet hand tilting her chin up.

"You're just a girl," he said, his voice dropping to a low, mysterious hum.

"A girl who smells of home and sanctuary. Why were you watching us, little bird?"

"I was getting spices," she stammered, her gaze flickering away from his bare chest, too shy to meet his eyes. "For my grandma. I... I didn't mean to watch. I just couldn't move."

Seeing her so gentle and harmless, Wyatt’s expression softened but he still doubted her identity. He pulled his hand back, his thumb leaving a trail of cool water on her skin.

"This is no place for you," he growled softly. "Go back to your cottage, little girl. And pray the rest of the pack doesn't find your scent."

Serene nodded, and started to walk with her head down but only few steps she stopped again and look at him.

Wyatt hadn't moved. He stood exactly where she had left him. The water still glistened on his bronzed skin, and his expression was a mask of stern, serious intensity. He was staring straight at her, his eyes unblinking, tracking her movement with the focused silence of a wolf.

Their eyes locked—long enough for Serene to feel a jolt of electricity race from her toes to her fingertips.

A deep, burning blush flooded her cheeks. She avoided his eyes and run.

“Did she suddenly have a crush?”

After the girl vanished, Wyatt stood in silence for a long moment. The scent of lilies lingered in the air, mocking his self-imposed discipline. With a sharp exhale, he waded back to the bank, pulled on his dark tunic and leather vest, and strapped his twin daggers to his belt. His movements were efficient, but his mind was uncharacteristically loud.

By the time he reached the pack’s southern outpost, his inner circle was already waiting. Xavier, Migs, and Eurae were sprawled out near a fallen log, though the moment they saw their future Alpha, they snapped into focus.

"Well?" Xavier asked, a teasing glint in his eyes as he tossed a small sharpening stone into the air and caught it. "Did you catch the 'scout'? Or was it just a particularly aggressive squirrel?"

Migs chuckled, leaning back on his elbows. "He’s been gone long enough to have interrogated an entire battalion. What happened, Wyatt? You look like you’ve seen a ghost."

Wyatt didn't look at them, his expression a wall of cold stone as he checked the fastenings on his gauntlets. "It wasn't a scout. Just a girl. A human."

"A human?" Eurae sat up straight, his brow furrowing. He was the most observant of the group, and he didn't miss the way Wyatt’s jaw remained tight. "Deep in the Lunar territory? That’s rare. Did she have a weapon? A message?"

"Nothing," Wyatt grumbled, finally meeting their eyes. "She was gathering spices. For her grandmother. She was harmless. Scared out of her wits."

Xavier let out a low whistle. "A spice-gatherer stumbling into an Alpha’s training ground. She’s lucky you were the one to find her and not the Border Patrol. They would have dragged her to the Elders for questioning."

"She’s fine," Wyatt said shortly, turning to head toward the main village. "I sent her home."

Eurae stood up, dusting off his breeches as he followed him. "A girl with enough courage—or enough stupidity—to stay and watch us bathe must have been something special. What’s her name?"

Wyatt stopped dead in his tracks.

The image of her flashed vividly in his mind: the way her black hair caught the sun, her eyes, and the way her face had turned a furious red when she looked at him. Her smell of rain on her skin and the sound of her shaky, melodic voice. He remembered every detail of her face... but his mind came up empty for the one thing that mattered.

"I…….." Wyatt trailed off, his brow knitting together in a rare moment of frustration. "I didn't ask."

Xavier and Migs exchanged a slow, knowing look.

"The great Wyatt, future Alpha of the Crescent Pack, interrogation specialist..." Xavier began, a wide, mischievous grin spreading across his face.

"Forgot to ask the name of the only girl who managed to sneak up on him?"

"Shut up, Xavier," Wyatt growled, but the tips of his ears turned a faint shade of pink.

"She must have been very pretty," Eurae added with a smirk, crossing his arms. "For you to lose your focus like that."

Wyatt didn't answer. He simply adjusted his gear and walked faster, the silence of the forest is filling a lot of teasing and laughter of his friends in that morning.