The Blood Moon rose the night Kaelen broke every law he had ever sworn to protect.
The forest of Ashenfall held its breath beneath the crimson sky. No wind. No insects. Only the low pulse of ancient magic humming through the roots.
Kaelen Moonborne—Alpha of the Moonborne pack—stood at the heart of the forest, bare feet pressed into cold earth. The red moonlight burned against his skin, awakening the wolf inside him.
A Blood Moon never rises without consequence.
Then the scent hit him.
Cold. Metallic. Ancient.
Vampire.
Kaelen's eyes flashed gold. His claws slid free as a growl tore from his chest. "Show yourself," he snarled. "Now."
A figure stepped from the shadows as if darkness itself obeyed him.
Tall. Pale. Beautiful in a way that made Kaelen's instincts scream danger.
Silver-dark hair framed sharp, immortal features. Crimson eyes lifted calmly, unafraid.
Kaelen knew that face.
Every Alpha did.
"Lorien Nightvale," Kaelen said, voice tight. "You're trespassing."
Lorien inclined his head slightly, almost respectful. "So this is the Moonborne Alpha."
The air between them crackled—moon magic colliding with immortal blood.
"Leave," Kaelen ordered. "Before I tear you apart."
Lorien's lips curved faintly. "If you do that, Alpha… your world ends before dawn."
The ground shuddered.
Kaelen felt it then—something old awakening beneath the forest, something bound long ago and now breaking free.
"What did you do?" Kaelen demanded.
"I came to stop it," Lorien said quietly. "But the Blood Moon has other plans."
Their eyes locked.
Moon and blood.
Predator and immortal.
Above them, the Blood Moon pulsed brighter—as if claiming them both.
And Kaelen knew, with terrifying certainty—
This vampire was no longer his enemy.
He was his fate.