The smell of copper and smoke filled the hall. The shards of overturned chairs glinted on the stone floor like teeth, and candles flickered weakly in the darkness, burned down to stubs. My hands continued to shake and cling to the edges of the table I had pushed, as though my skin had been damaged by the force I had called forth.
Thorn surveyed the aftermath from the far end of the hall. The wolves that had battled the outlaws transformed back into humans, their muscles tense from adrenaline and their breathing labored. His sharp, wolf-gray eyes darted to me, then to the bodies strewn about, and then back to me.
His voice was low, measured, and nearly growling as he said, "You're faster than any of my wolves." "And before you could have known what to do, you moved."
"I—I didn't mean to—" My voice broke. "It just happened."
He took a step toward her. Every motion is exact and purposeful. He pressed close to me, frightening and grounding all at once. "Not human."
Heavy and accusing, the words lingered in the air. I felt their weight in my chest, even though I wanted to deny it and shout that I was just a regular girl put in extraordinary circumstances. Tonight, something had changed. Something I was unable to identify.
I turned to look at the corner of the hall when I heard a low moan. One of the wolves, who I knew to be Thorn's lieutenant Kalen, was flinching and putting a hand to a cut on his arm. Thorn moved instantly, shrewd and dominant.
He pointed to the wound and said, "Bind it." "Then , look around the perimeter. Nobody leaves without my consent."
I forced my pulse to slow down and swallowed in an attempt to catch my breath. My limbs felt both electric and heavy. Something buzzed faintly at the edge of my mind, the whispers inside me, the echo of some voice hidden away. Moonborn.
Thorn's gaze returned to mine. That same keen suspicion. "You didn't just move quickly. You—"
He clenched his jaw. He halted, muttering something under his breath and shaking his head. Even though I couldn't hear it, the sound was powerful.
At last, he turned to face the doors and said, "Come." "We'll go outside and evaluate the damage."
Beyond the high hall doors lay the forest, mist curling like smoke among the trees. It was dangerous, but beautiful, even after the chaos. My heart pounded with each step as I followed, my bare feet silent against the stone.
The smell of pine, wet earth, and something metallic that made my stomach turn was in the damp, cold air outside. Silently patrolling the perimeter, Thorn's wolves' muscles tensed like coiled springs.
"Tell me," he said softly, his gaze never leaving mine. "Is there anything else you can do?"
I went cold. My throat shut. I couldn't think of a response that wouldn't sound crazy. How could I explain the bending of shadows, the slowing of time, and a force that I hardly understood?
I muttered, almost too softly to be heard, "Nothing."
Unconvinced, he cocked his head but didn't press. Rather, he calculated while studying me. I felt vulnerable to his stare, as though he could see every secret thought and anxiety.
"Good," he said finally, voice sharp but quiet. "For now. Control what you can, or it will control you. The rogues weren't your only threat tonight."
I swallowed hard, heart hammering. "Who else?"
He didn't answer. Instead, he turned sharply and vanished into the shadows of the estate, leaving me standing there, trembling, with a forest full of silent eyes watching.
Something was out there. And I had the distinct feeling it wasn't just the rogues anymore.
That night, I didn't sleep. I became tense with every creak in the wooden floors and every snap of a twig outside. As though my power was seeking release, my hands twitched restlessly. I occasionally muttered the phrase from my dream: Moonborn. Every time I said it, the hairs on my arms stood up, and it rolled on my tongue like smoke.
The fog had dissipated by morning, and silver sunlight shrouded the estate. The smell of rain-soaked earth filled the crisp, cool air. Like a shadow himself, Thorn moved through the hall with efficiency and slickness, giving pack members clipped orders. I watched from a safe distance, taking in the place's subtle hierarchy—eyes darting, tails flicking, muscles tensed for danger.
I made an effort to appear normal, but the pack was focused on me. My steps were followed by whispers. A few were interested. Some people are cautious. And others... antagonistic. I was reminded that I was the outsider by their criticism, which felt like a real weight bearing down on me. The substitute. The alternative.
We arrived at a tiny courtyard at the back of the property, where the stones were soaked with dew. Thorn paused, looking along the eastern wall at the tree line. One of the lieutenants moved forward.
"Tracks," he said in a tight voice. "Not a wolf."
Naturally, I knelt. Each paw was covered in mud, and the prints were long and nearly skeletal. Each print featured a delicate yet intentional crescent moon etched in the center. My fingers ached to touch them, to follow the icy metal design in the mud. The taste of fear and adrenaline lingered in the air.
With his eyes narrowing and his voice low, Thorn whispered, "They're not here for the pack." "They are here for you."
I went cold. "Me?" My heart hit my ribs hard. "Why?"
"Because I've seen these before," he said, his jaw clenched. "And the last time... the prophecy of the Moonborn started to come to pass."
I kept hearing the words. Moonborn. Foretelling. I hardly understood the powers. Last night was the unthinkable. Everything came together like a thread tying itself through the tangle. And I was scared.
"Tell me," I muttered, my voice shaking. "What does it signify?"
He looked at the trees, shadowy forms in the early morning light. At last, he declared, "It is not a person." It's a force. It can tip scales in Alpha battles, bend time, and shape shadows. Additionally, it comes with a price."
I took a deep breath. "And you believe that to be me?"
He didn't respond. Rather, his eyes measured mine, weighing, calculating, as if determining whether I could live with the truth. The knowledge that something in the forest was aware of my presence caused my stomach to twist with the same cold pull I had experienced the previous evening. observing. Awaiting.
Finally, he said in a low voice, "Stay alert." "Don't underestimate what's about to happen. The rogues were just the beginning."
I nodded, but my heart wouldn't stop racing. Green and shadowed, with silver light dancing across the mist, the forest stretched on forever in front of us. And I had no doubt that my life would never be the same.
Because I had been found by whatever was out there.