The Blood Moon Hunt
The forest breathed like a beast in slumber. Its shadows shifted with every gust of wind, and the silver moon above poured its cold light onto the ancient clearing. Tonight was not a night for humans. It was the Blood moon Hunt the ritual that bound wolves to their fated mates and left outcasts like me to the mercy of claws.
I shouldn't have been here.
Yet here I was.
Shoved into the clearing by hands that had once pretended to be family, branded as prey for wolves who would tear me apart before dawn. My lungs ached from the run, and my bare feet stung from the thorns. The smell of pine, blood, and burning torches curled around me, sharp enough to sting my throat.
"Run, half-breed." The Alpha of my former pack had laughed as I was dragged to the hunt's edge. "Let's see if fate finds you worth keeping."
I ran because I had no choice.
Branches whipped my arms as I darted through the forest, breath tearing ragged from my chest. The earth was slick with moss, roots jutting like claws waiting to trip me. Behind me, I could hear them the hunters. Wolves, snapping and snarling, their paws drumming the ground like war drums. The Blood Moon had awakened their hunger, and I was the offering.
The rules were simple: unmated wolves entered the Hunt. They chased. They claimed. But I was no wolf. I was human-born. Weak. A mistake.
Every inhale burned like fire. My hair clung to my face, damp with sweat and mist. The wind carried their howls to me, closer, closer. They wanted blood. They wanted the thrill of tearing apart something that didn't belong.
The ground trembled beneath me. A growl split the night low, feral, closer than the rest. My heart punched against my ribs as I pushed forward, desperate for escape. My body burned, but the instinct to survive roared louder than my pain.
A branch cracked ahead. I froze.
And then he stepped into the clearing.
Tall. Shadowed by moonlight. His presence consumed the air itself, and the forest seemed to bow in silence. His eyes glowed like molten silver, and when they locked onto me, the world tilted.
Every story I had ever overheard about him slammed into me at once. The Lycan King. Ciaran Duskbane. The ruler above all Alphas, the nightmare mothers used to scare their children quiet. Untouchable. Unchallenged. A legend wrapped in flesh and danger.
And he was staring at me.
The wolves behind me skidded to a halt, their growls dying into uneasy whines. Even Alphas knew better than to cross him. The King belonged to no pack, yet every pack bowed when he appeared.
I should have bowed too. I should have dropped to my knees, begged, wept anything. But my legs wouldn't bend. My chin lifted, even as terror shredded my insides. I refused to fall.
The silence stretched until it felt like the moon itself was holding its breath.
Then it happened.
The snap. The sear. The invisible cord that lashed through the air and bound me to him.
I gasped, stumbling back, clutching my chest as fire raced through my veins. His nostrils flared, and his jaw tightened as though fate itself had struck him in the heart.
The mate bond.
No. No, this wasn't possible. I was human-born. A half-breed mistake. Mate bonds belonged to wolves, not to me. Not to the girl who had been left outside the pack house every winter night to freeze.
His voice was a low command that rumbled through the clearing. "Mine."
The word dropped like a blade, cutting through the night.
The others whimpered, retreating into the trees. Not one dared to challenge him. But I Elara Vale, the unwanted, the half-breed stood frozen in his silver gaze. My heart thrashed, torn between terror and something darker, something dangerous.
"I don't belong to anyone," I forced out, though my voice shook.
Something like amusement flickered in his eyes, sharp and merciless. He stepped closer, each stride deliberate, predatory. "The bond says otherwise."
I stumbled back until my spine hit bark. His shadow engulfed me, and the air itself grew heavy with his scent smoke, steel, and storm. My knees trembled, but my chin stayed high.
The bond burned, demanding surrender. My blood screamed, my bones ached to bow, but I locked my jaw. I had lived unwanted for twenty-three years. I would not break in front of him.
Silver eyes pinned me like spears. "What is your name?"
"Elara," I whispered, though I wanted to stay silent. The bond ripped the word from me, offering it like a gift.
"Elara." His tongue curled around the syllables like a claim. "You were never prey. You were always meant for me."
I shook my head violently. "You're wrong. I don't want this. I don't want you."
A growl rumbled from his chest, deep enough to rattle the earth. He leaned closer until his breath ghosted my lips. "Want has nothing to do with it. You are mine, little wolf."
"I'm not a wolf," I snapped.
For the first time, his expression shifted surprise, brief and sharp, before it melted into something unreadable. He searched my face as though the truth of me was a puzzle only he could solve.
Then his hand rose, brushing the side of my jaw. I flinched, but his touch was iron, unyielding. The bond surged like a storm, clawing at my will.
Somewhere in the forest, another wolf howled long, furious, a challenge. The spell between us snapped, and Ciaran's head lifted, his eyes narrowing.
"They come for you," he murmured, voice like steel drawn from a sheath. "Let them try."
His arms caged me before I could protest. He swept me off the ground, against his chest, as though I weighed nothing. The bond pulsed wild between us, binding me tighter with every beat of my heart.
"Put me down!" I struggled, fists pounding against him, but he didn't flinch.
"Never," he growled. "The Hunt is over. The King has claimed his mate."
The last thing I saw before dark
ness swallowed me was the forest bending, bowing, and breaking beneath his command.