Iris Montgomery's POV
I almost kill Luna on the second day.
We're sitting at the cabin table eating something my grandmother made. Luna reaches across me to grab water and her arm brushes mine. Just a light touch. Nothing intentional.
But my power reacts like she's attacking me.
Lightning shoots through my body. Luna screams and pulls back. Her arm is burned. Small marks that look like handprints from fire.
I didn't even touch her.
"I'm sorry," I say, and I'm shaking so hard I can barely speak. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to."
Luna just stares at her arm. My grandmother comes over and examines the marks without saying anything.
"Three more days," my grandmother says finally. "By then your power should settle enough that you won't hurt people accidentally."
But what if I can't control it by then? What if I'm dangerous forever?
Luna doesn't come near me after that.
On the second night, my grandmother finally tells me about my parents.
I'm sitting by the window reading one of the old books when she sits beside me. Her face looks like she's about to say something that costs her everything.
"Your parents knew the truth about what you were," she says quietly. "About your bloodline. About the power sleeping in your blood. They were careful. They kept you hidden. But someone found out."
I put the book down. Something in her voice tells me I need to listen with my whole attention.
"Someone was hunting blood witches," she continues. "Someone who believed that blood magic was a sin. That people like your family were abominations. They found your parents through a network of people who knew about the old bloodlines."
She stops. She takes a breath like saying the next words will break her.
"They murdered them," she says. "That car accident when you were five. It wasn't an accident. It was deliberate. Someone wanted your mother and father dead. And after that, I spent every day keeping you safe. Hiding you. Making sure nobody else would find out what sleeps in your blood."
I want to cry but no tears come. My parents were killed. Not by accident. By someone hunting them because of what they were.
Because of what I am.
On the third day, Luna and my grandmother have a massive fight.
Luna wants to contact Kael. She thinks the mate bond means something. She thinks he'll protect me even after rejecting me. She thinks if he understands what's happening, he'll stand by my side.
My grandmother laughs. Actually laughs. But there's no humor in it.
"A male will always choose his pack over his mate," she says coldly. "Always. That's how the system is built. That's how it's designed. Males are loyal to hierarchy and power structure first. Everything else is secondary."
"You're wrong," Luna argues. "Kael felt the surge of her power. He knows she's important. He's probably looking for her right now."
"He's looking for her because he's confused," my grandmother says. "Because he feels the broken mate bond pulling at him. But the moment the pack council tells him to choose between her and his position, he'll abandon her without hesitation. Iris learned that lesson at the bonfire."
Luna doesn't argue after that.
I spend the three days reading the books in the cabin.
They're written in languages I shouldn't understand. Old languages. Dead languages. Languages that don't exist anymore. But somehow when I look at the words, they make sense. It's like the knowledge is already inside me, just waiting for the symbols to trigger it.
The books describe blood magic.
A power that lets someone command other wolves through their blood connection. Not possession. Not mind control. But something deeper. Something that touches the very core of what a wolf is and tells it what to do.
Blood witches were so dangerous that the packs outlawed them three hundred years ago. They passed laws saying anyone with blood magic had to be executed. Not imprisoned. Not exiled. Executed.
Because blood witches terrified the entire pack structure.
Everything about packs is built on hierarchy. On submission. On one wolf being stronger and everyone else bowing to that strength. But blood witches could break that system. They could make a stronger wolf bow to a weaker one. They could destroy the entire foundation that society was built on.
So they killed them all.
Or tried to.
My grandmother's family hid. My family survived. And I'm the last one.
On the third night, I feel it again.
The presence that touched my mind in the forest. It's growing stronger. It's not distant anymore. It's awake. Fully awake. And it's looking for something with absolute certainty.
It's looking for me.
The connection between us is like a rope tying me to someone I've never met. With each breath, the rope gets tighter. With each moment, the presence gets closer.
I stand and walk to the window. I need air. I need to understand what's happening.
My grandmother appears beside me. She's been waiting for this moment.
"Sit with me," she says.
We sit on the porch of the cabin. The Blood Moon is still bright above the trees. Still red. Still feeding power into my blood.
"A Lycan King only wakes once every thousand years," my grandmother says, and her voice sounds like she's telling me something that will change everything. "And when he does wake, he wakes looking for one person. One soul that matches his soul. If what you're feeling is who I think it is, then you're not just awakening blood magic."
She takes my hand.
"You're fulfilling a prophecy older than written history. He's going to come for you. And we won't be able to stop him."
I look at her face and I see genuine fear. Not fear for herself. Fear for me. Fear of what comes next.
"What does that mean?" I ask. "What does it mean if he comes for me?"
My grandmother doesn't answer.
Because that's when the ground shakes.
Not like an earthquake. Like something heavy is moving through the forest. Something so large and so powerful that the very earth is trembling from its footsteps.
Something is coming toward us.
And it's moving fast.
My grandmother's hand grips mine so tight it hurts.
"Hide," she whispers. "Now. Take Luna and hide."
But I can't move.
Because I can feel it now. Feel him. Feel the presence that woke up when I woke up getting closer and closer with each passing second. The connection between us is screaming. The rope is pulling so tight I can barely breathe.
He's coming.
And some part of me that doesn't belong to me anymore is running toward him instead of away.