Marked by Moon

Chapte

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. The red wolf does not ask to be born. She is su

had no wolf. No shifting. No spark of transformation. No whisper in the back of her mind that others called "the beast within." The other children noticed first. They laughed when she couldn't run as fast, mocked her for walking like a girl with one foot in the human world. And so she stayed silent, and still. --- But the forest never laughed at her. The pines bent toward her as she passed. The wind played in her hair when no one else was near. Sometimes, the birds would land beside her on the riverbank, tilt their heads, and sing as if telling secrets. And always, the moon watched. Sometimes, it looked silver. Other times, pearly white. But when it turned red-once a year, without fail-Elara would sit outside her small cabin, feel the warmth in her shoulder, and wonder. Was it a mistake? Was she cursed? Or chosen? She never asked aloud. Not even when her bones ached with questions. --- When Elara turned seventeen, her guardian fell ill. Mira had raised her like a daughter-taught her how to gather herbs, how to hide when the patrols came near, how to braid her hair in a warrior's weave even if she'd never be one. But now she lay in bed, her skin pale, her breaths shallow. "Go," Mira rasped one night. "You'll have to go to the pack village. Ask the healers for foxroot. Or... something stronger." Elara hesitated. "They won't help me." "Don't ask them to," Mira whispered. "Take what you need. And if you see the Moonstone Path-don't follow it. Not yet." "What's the Moonstone Path?" But Mira only smiled faintly. "The stars will know when you're ready." --- The village was worse than Elara remembered. Stone towers ringed the central clearing, and silver wards buzzed in the air to keep out intruders. Wolves in human skin walked with arrogance, heads high, scents of pride thick in the wind. She slipped through alleyways, eyes down, cloak tight. She didn't need them to look at h