The air in the forest felt wrong that night—too still, too aware. The Moon hovered low and swollen, casting its argent light through the trees like a thousand eyes.
I could feel it watching me.
Not as a goddess. Not even as power.
But as something jealous.
Luca walked ahead, his figure half-shadow, half-glow. "You shouldn't have followed me," he said without turning.
"Then stop making me want to," I shot back. My voice was low, shaking, but not from fear. From the pull. That invisible tether between us had grown stronger since the ritual, humming like a heartbeat under my skin.
He stopped, gloved hands flexing. "You think this is a game? You think what's inside me won't burn you alive?"
"I already burn," I whispered. "Just differently."
He turned then, and the moonlight caught his eyes—bright, unnatural silver. For a heartbeat, I saw the wolf within him stir, not in violence, but in grief.
"Aria," he murmured, my name sounding like an apology. "You shouldn't love what was made to end you."
I took a step closer, ignoring the soft crunch of leaves beneath my boots. "Maybe that's what makes it real."
He almost smiled, but it broke before it reached his mouth. "Real doesn't mean safe."
"Nothing worth it ever is."
That did it. The tether snapped taut between us, invisible but undeniable. The air shimmered; the forest seemed to lean in, listening. I could feel his pulse—fast, uneven—and the Moon's light seemed to bend toward us, curious, hungry.
Luca's hand lifted slowly, trembling as if it took everything he had not to reach for me. "If I touch you now," he warned, "you won't be Aria anymore. You'll be mine."
My breath hitched. "And if I already am?"
The wind stirred, soft but sharp enough to make the trees whisper secrets I didn't want to hear. Somewhere far off, a howl broke the silence—low, sorrowful. A warning, or a blessing. I couldn't tell.
Then his hand brushed my cheek.
It was like touching lightning made of memory—pain and longing and something older than either of us. The world tilted, the shadows twisted, and I saw flashes: a girl standing beneath a blood-red moon, a silver crown sinking into water, Luca kneeling in chains.
I gasped, stumbling back. "What was that?"
He looked haunted. "What you saw wasn't a vision. It was truth."
"Yours?"
He shook his head slowly. "Ours."
Before I could speak again, something moved beyond the trees—a flicker of red eyes, too high off the ground to belong to a wolf. The forest shivered, as if it, too, recognized what approached.
"Luca," I said, backing toward him, "tell me that's one of yours."
He drew his blade, silver catching the light. "That depends," he muttered, "on how you define mine."
The creature stepped into view—humanoid, but stretched and wrong. A skinwalker, half-shadow, half-echo. The scent of iron filled the air.
"They weren't supposed to be here yet," Luca hissed. "The Umbra shouldn't have crossed the border."
"Yet?" I asked. "You knew this would happen?"
He didn't answer. His stance shifted, predatory now, every inch of his body poised between protection and destruction.
I reached for the dagger hidden under my cloak. "Then we fight."
"Aria, no. You're not ready—"
"I don't need to be," I said, cutting him off. "I just need to be angry."
The shadow lunged.
The forest exploded into motion.
Light and darkness collided—silver against black, howl against scream. I moved like instinct, not thought. The Moon guided my blade, each strike ringing with energy that wasn't entirely mine. Luca's growl echoed through the trees, low and guttural, the sound of something ancient being forced awake.
When it was over, the creature dissolved into smoke and silence. The forest smelled like rain and ash.
I turned to Luca, breath ragged. "They were after me, weren't they?"
He didn't deny it.
"They know what you are," he said finally, voice rough. "And now they'll come in numbers."
The Moon pulsed once, faint but insistent. I felt it again—the echo of its voice, not in words but in feeling: Run.
But I didn't move.
I looked at Luca instead, the curse flickering in his eyes like a dying star.
"Then let them come," I said. "I'm done running from what I am."
He exhaled, a sound between a laugh and a growl. "You really are going to ruin me."
"Maybe," I said softly. "Or maybe I'll save you."
The Moonlight dimmed then, as if even it didn't know which it wanted.