The forest held its breath.
Elara knelt beside Lucien's limp form, her fingers trembling as she brushed a lock of dark hair from his forehead. His skin was ice-cold, paler than moonlight, and the faint glow beneath it flickered like a dying ember.
"Don't do this…" she whispered.
But he didn't stir.
The Red Moon continued to stain the sky, its crimson glow pulsing like a heartbeat—slow, ominous, too aware. Every legend warned that the Red Moon awakened things best left sleeping.
And yet… the only thing terrifying her right now was the thought that Lucien Vaelthorn might not survive the night.
Elara pressed her palm to his chest.
Nothing.
His heartbeat was shallow, faint, like a fading echo.
A cursed hybrid.
A creature born to destroy.
A prophecy in flesh.
But he had protected her.
Even while starving.
Even while dying.
Her throat tightened.
"I'm not letting you die," she murmured fiercely.
Lightning rumbled again, closer this time. The scent of rain mixed with blood and shadow. The forest seemed to twist around them, as if watching.
She tried lifting him again, his weight nearly crushing her when a cold whisper brushed her ear.
"Elara."
She froze.
Her name… spoken from nowhere.
The wind shifted, curling around her like invisible fingers. A shiver dragged down her spine as the air thickened, heavy with magic.
No.
Not magic.
A presence.
"Elara…"
This time, the voice was clearer. Familiar. Too familiar.
Her pulse spiked.
"Mother?"
Branches snapped behind her.
She didn't turn.
She couldn't breathe.
Her mother's voice had been dead for nine years. Taken by the curse. Consumed by the vision of her own death.
"Elara, child… leave him. The hybrid brings ruin."
The voice was soft, gentle, coaxing exactly as she remembered.
Too exactly.
Elara gritted her teeth. "You're not her."
A laugh drifted through the trees, cold as grave soil.
"No. But you believe what you fear."
A sharp gust of wind tore through the clearing.
The illusion shattered.
A figure stepped between the trees, tall, cloaked in tattered shadows, its face hidden beneath a bone-white mask carved with runic cracks. Wisps of black smoke curled from its limbs.
A Shade.
Elara's breath crumpled.
Shades did not appear without purpose. They hunted souls marked by prophecy… or power.
Its head tilted toward Lucien's unconscious body.
The forest groaned.
Elara lunged, placing herself between the Shade and Lucien. "You will not touch him."
The creature's empty eyes glowed faintly.
"You protect a curse," it rasped. A being woven from death. His fate is sealed. And soon… so is yours.
A chill slithered through her veins, but she forced herself to stand tall.
Then you'll have to go through me.
The Shade lifted its hand, a talon of smoke stretching into a deadly blade.
Elara's heart hammered.
She had no spell strong enough.
No weapon sharp enough.
No strength that matched the ancient terror before her.
But she had one thing.
She reached for Lucien's hand.
His fingers were cold, lifeless.
"Elara!" the Shade hissed, its blade arcing downward.
She squeezed Lucien's hand harder.
Her curse flared wild, burning, surging like a storm inside her chest.
The future.
Death.
A thousand shadows.
Her vision blurred.
Then she saw it, a flash of silver light exploding through darkness.
Lucien.
Her eyes snapped open just as a violent pulse of energy erupted beneath her palm.
A roar of power detonated through
the clearing.
Lucien's eyes flew open, blazing molten silver.
His voice echoed in a snarl that shook the earth.
"Don't touch her."
Shadows burst outward from his body, exploding like wings unfurling.
The Shade staggered backward, shrieking.
Elara stumbled, thrown off balance by the sheer force of Lucien's awakening power.
He rose slowly, terrifyingly, the glow beneath his skin now bright enough to crack the air itself.
His claws slid out again, but this time…
they were different—longer, sharper, flickering with veined light.
"Lucien…" she whispered.
He didn't look at her at first. His gaze was locked on the Shade as though nothing else existed.
"You will not harm her," he said, voice layered with something ancient.
The Shade hissed and lunged
Lucien moved faster.
Too fast.
In one deadly sweep, he slashed through it. Shadows exploded into mist. The forest trembled as the Shade dissolved into nothing.
Silence swallowed the world.
Lucien stood motionless, chest rising and falling in ragged breaths. His claws shook. His fangs glistened under the blood moon.
Slowly, his gaze shifted to her.
"Elara…" he whispered, voice breaking.
His knees gave out.
She caught him barely as he collapsed into her arms, trembling violently.
This time, his eyes held something she hadn't seen before.
Fear.
"Don't be afraid," she murmured.
He shuddered. "Not of me. For you."
Her heart squeezed painfully.
What's coming?
Lucien's voice was a whisper of terrified truth.
Everything.