The Blood Moon rose early that night.
Its light bled across the sky like a wound, staining the forest in crimson. The wolves of the Bloodfang pack had retreated to their dens, trembling in silence. None dared speak her name too loudly now — Liora, the Blood Alpha, the untamed queen who had broken every law of the moon.
But while the pack slept, the earth remembered.
Deep beneath the ruins of the first temple, where time and shadow met, the stones began to hum, low and slow, a sound older than speech. The markings carved into the ancient altar glowed faintly red, mirroring the pulse in the sky.
***
Liora stood on the balcony of the fortress, her eyes reflecting the red moon. The wind curled through her hair, wild as her heartbeat. She felt that pull again. That whisper in her blood that wasn't her own.
The wolves behind her dared not speak.
