Moonbound: The Curse of Lycaria

The night air was heavy with silence, the kind that pressed against your chest and whispered secrets into your ears if you dared to stand still long enough. Above the sleepy town of Theron Hollow, the sky bled crimson. Eirene stood at the edge of the ancient cliff known as The Watcher's Crown, a jagged outcrop overlooking the forest that had always seemed too dark, too alive. The wind tugged at her black curls, and the hem of her denim jacket fluttered against her thighs.

She should've been back at the foster house, pretending to celebrate her nineteenth birthday with frozen cake and bored smiles. Instead, something had pulled her here. Something in her chest. A hum. A pulse. A wild rhythm she couldn't understand but couldn't ignore. Behind her, the moon was rising. Not silver. Not gold. Red. A deep, pulsing scarlet that made her throat tighten with some nameless dread. She swallowed hard, hugging herself. Her breath came in shaky clouds, and the world around her, trees, stones, the dirt beneath her sneakers seemed to hold its breath with her. "It's just a lunar eclipse," she whispered. "Totally normal. Totally scientific." But nothing about tonight felt normal. The forest shivered. And then came the howl. It was long, low, and mournful. It came from nowhere and everywhere, impossibly close, yet distant, as though it traveled through time as much as space. It wasn't the sound of a wolf. Not really. Wolves didn't cry with sorrow and rage braided into every note. Wolves didn't call your name without saying a word. Eirene's heart slammed into her ribs. She stumbled back from the cliff's edge, suddenly dizzy. "Okay. That's enough birthday drama for one night." She turned to leave, only to find the path gone. The trail she had followed for years, the trail that led back to town and the safety of her books, her walls, her numbed little world, was swallowed by shadow. The trees had shifted. Branches twisted in directions she didn't remember, and the dirt beneath her feet glowed faintly, as if marked by ancient symbols beneath the surface. Another howl, this one closer. Panic seized her. She ran. Branches clawed at her arms. Leaves rustled like whispers. The air thickened. The forest wasn't just dark now, it was wrong. Trees leaned in like sentinels. The path led nowhere. Her lungs burned, but she couldn't stop. Something was coming. She tripped, falling hard to the ground. Stones bit into her palms. She rolled onto her back, gasping and then froze. Standing at the treeline was a wolf. No. Not a wolf. A man. Tall. Barefoot. Shirtless. His skin was the color of bronze smoothed by moonlight, and his dark hair fell in waves to his shoulders. His eyes, gold, glowing, inhuman, were fixed on her. And though he said nothing, she heard him in her mind like a whisper. Eirene. She scrambled back. "Who, what are you?" The man stepped forward slowly, like he didn't want to startle her. "I won't hurt you." "You, how do you know my name?" He tilted his head, eyes soft but unreadable. "I've always known it." Her chest heaved. "This is a dream. It has to be." "No dream." His gaze flicked to the sky. "The moon is bleeding. It begins tonight." "What begins?" He said nothing. Instead, he crouched, placing a hand to the earth. The ground pulsed beneath his touch. Glowing lines of silver bloomed from his fingers like veins of starlight, curling outward into symbols Eirene couldn't read but somehow... recognized. "What are you doing?" "Waking the old magic," he murmured. The moment he said it, a wind unlike anything she had ever felt surged through the trees. It wasn't just wind, it was memory. Fire. Fury. Screams. Wolf howls layered with voices. The sensation tore through her mind like claws. She clutched her head, crying out. "Stop it!" And just like that, it ended. Silence fell. Eirene gasped, panting. "Who are you?" He looked at her with something between sadness and awe. "My name is Demetrius. I am Alpha of the House Drakonis." She blinked. "You mean... like a wolf pack?" He nodded. "One of the oldest. And you" he stepped closer, his voice dropping" are Luna-Born." She shook her head. "That's not a thing. That's some kind of cult talk." "It's in your blood, Eirene. You were marked before birth. The prophecy is awakening." She backed away. "This is crazy. I'm just a girl. I'm not special." But she didn't believe her own words. Deep inside, something had always whispered otherwise. Demetrius held her gaze. "Your bloodline is cursed. You carry the legacy of Lykaios, the first wolf cursed by the gods and made into legend." She opened her mouth to argue, but then it hit her. The humming in her chest. The dreams. The feeling that something ancient was watching her. "...Why now?" "Because the moon bleeds for you. And others have heard its call." A snarl ripped through the forest. Eirene's head snapped toward the sound. Her blood ran cold. Demetrius stepped in front of her. "They're already hunting you." Before she could speak, a monstrous figure lunged from the trees, massive, furred, fanged. A werewolf. Real. Savage. It struck Demetrius, and the two went crashing into the underbrush. The sounds of claws and teeth echoed through the night. Eirene scrambled up, heart pounding. She should run. She didn't. She grabbed a broken branch, trembling, and followed the sounds. She found them locked in combat, Demetrius in full wolf form, all black fur and glowing eyes, tearing into the other creature's throat. The enemy yelped, then staggered back, blood spurting. Demetrius shifted mid motion, back into his human form, panting. His chest was scratched and bloody. He looked at Eirene. "We have to go. Now." "Where?" "To where they cannot touch you. Yet." "I, I don't know you." "You will." She didn't trust him. Not fully. But she knew she couldn't stay. Not with monsters in the woods. Not with the earth glowing and the sky bleeding. Demetrius offered his hand. And with a breathless heart, she took it. As they ran into the dark, the prophecy whispered again in the back of her mind, words she'd never heard but knew were hers: When the blood moon calls the last daughter of Lykaios, fire shall fall, and the Luna shall rise.