PROLOGUE
They said the moon over Athelion was cursed.
Some nights it rose blood-red, hanging low over the mountains like a watching eye. But tonight, as storm clouds swallowed the sky, the moon hid — as if it feared what was about to wake.
Iven felt it before he heard it… that ancient pull in his bones.
A tremor.
A whisper.
A warning.
The Old Tongue stirred in his head, the one his mother called Ulfgardr, the forgotten language of the Northern clans. But beneath it, woven like smoke, came the soft hum of a different magic — the spirit-call of the AmaLobo, the Zulu Lycan-guardians.
Two legacies.
One cursed bloodline.
And a destiny he never asked for.
Lightning cracked across the sky, illuminating the ruins of the old Greek temple where he stood. Ivy crawled over broken pillars. The scent of wet stone, charred wood, and something darker filled the air.
Then… he heard her scream.
Sharp.
Human.
Terrified.
Iven didn't hesitate.
His bones snapped first — shoulders widening, spine stretching, vision sharpening into silver clarity. A growl ripped through him as claws burst from his fingers.
Not a man.
Not a wolf.
Something in-between… something forbidden.
He lunged toward the sound.
When he reached the clearing, he froze.
A girl knelt on the ground, clutching her arm, blood dripping through her fingers. Her eyes lifted to his — wide, stormy, fearless even in pain.
His wolf whispered a single word he hadn't heard in years:
"Mate"
And in that moment, the moon broke through the clouds — pure white light flooding the forest — and everything inside him bowed toward her like she was the only truth in a world full of lies.
His wolf knew her.
His curse recognized her.
His fate… belonged to her.
But she looked at him like she didn't know exactly what he was or the pull he felt… and feared him anyway.
.......
Amaris Tavian hated mornings.
Not because she was lazy — she actually liked the quiet, the cold air, the way the world felt softer before everyone woke up. She just hated the reminder that she was… different.
The only Tavian who didn't shift.
The only Tavian without a wolf.
Her mother used to say it softly, like speaking too loudly would make it more true, and sometimes trying to make her believe she could still change, but the latest years werewolves took to find their wolves was at age 17 but at 23 already, she'd given up hope. Her father didn't say it at all. And her brother? He tried to pretend it didn't matter — that she was fine, that she was still one of them.
But everyone else noticed.
Wolves always notice what's missing.
Which was why she'd left it all behind.
Amaris tied her hair into a loose bun, grabbed her bag, and stepped outside into the early light of New York's human district. Cars hummed, people argued over bus fares, school kids chased each other across the street.
Humans.
Loud, messy, unpredictable… and blissfully unaware of mate bonds, wolf hierarchies, or the painful silence of an empty mind.
She almost envied them.
Her school was a ten-minute walk — past the bakery that always smelled like burnt cinnamon, the mechanic shop where old men yelled at each other for sport, and the cracked road that somehow no one ever fixed.
Just another normal day.
Except her chest felt… off.
Not hurt. Not tight. Just strange — like something was shifting in the world, but nobody told her yet.
She shook it off.
Probably stress.
Probably nothing.
"Iris!" someone called behind her. "You're early again?"
She turned. Her best friend, Rina, jogged up with a half-eaten doughnut in hand. Hair wild. Bag unzipped. Already chaotic at 7:15 a.m.
Unlike her, Rina was a wolf, and just to be with her, she had left their wolf school to come to school with her at the human school.
Sometimes Amaris felt sorry for having to put her through everything, not being able to be somewhere where she could be herself. Countless times she'd told her to go back, but the girl was as stubborn as her life and always refused, even taking offense whenever Amaris brought the subject up, so she just left it.
"Not early," Amaris said. "Just avoiding home."
Rina snorted. "Girl, same. If my mom asks me one more time why I haven't found my mate, I'll move to another country."
Of course there was the mate issue. For her, she'd just end up finding love and marrying like humans do because, technically, she wasn't a wolf, so she couldn't have a mate. Funny thing was, it made her happy, the whole mate thing felt like an arranged marriage, she didn't like it.
For someone like her, she'd prefer to get to know a person before anything like humans do, but for werewolves, once they met their fated mate, the next thing following up was sex and Amaris found that stuff disgusting, but then she didn't know how it felt from a werewolves' perspective, she was just thinking as a human would.
"You love her too much to move," Amaris said.
"Yeah well, I'd love her more if she shut up."
They walked through the school gates together. Students rushed past, teachers shouted rules nobody listened to, and the sky brightened into soft gold.
For a moment, Amaris felt… normal.
Human.
Uncomplicated.
Free.
Only if she knew that somewhere miles away — or maybe closer than she'd ever guess — a boy with silver eyes was bracing his wolf against the ache of a bond only he could feel.
She didn't know he'd already chosen her.
Or that, very soon… she would walk into his territory and change everything.