Prologue
"Elara."
The old man's voice echoed through the sacred chamber like a curse. He was the Chairperson of the Witchclan — ancient, brittle, and still powerful enough to bend fate.
I knelt at the center of the stone circle as the flames of the ritual brazier cast jagged shadows across the faces of the elders.
Tonight was the annual gathering of what remained of our fractured clan — once feared across the lands, now fading embers of what used to be fire.
"You heard the decree," he said again.
I nodded. I had no strength to argue, not with the poison of the curse already threading through my veins.
My birth had been a mistake. A child born under a blood moon eclipse — a bad omen. I never knew my parents. I only knew purpose.
The gods had abandoned us. Caelus — the divine spark that once walked among mortals — had used my clan as a vessel to ascend. And once he tasted power, he discarded us like dust.
It was not just betrayal. It was humiliation.
Our clan never recovered.
So they made me their vengeance.
"Your powers remain sealed," the Chairperson intoned. "Only when the mission is fulfilled may you reclaim them."
"You must infiltrate the life of Alpha Draco Caelus," another elder said. Her voice was soft, but cold as mountain snow.
Draco. The grandson of Caelus. The last divine-born heir. The powerhouse of the Alphas and the pack lord
"He walks with power gifted to him by the stars, but his heart is mortal. Wounded. Guarded."
I knew the rest already.
Only one kiss was needed.
A kiss freely given — and returned — would shatter his divine tether, unraveling the legacy of the gods and restoring the Witchclan's honor.
But if love found me first…
If I hesitated…
I would die before the moon completes its next cycle.
I was no chosen one. No beloved daughter of prophecy.
I was a pawn.
A weapon forged in bitterness and sealed in fire.