The forest did not sleep.
It breathed.
Low mist curled around the roots of ancient trees, silver under the dying moonlight. The night carried whispers—old ones, dangerous ones. And somewhere within it, Kael stood frozen, every instinct screaming.
He could still feel Lucien's presence.
Even though the vampire was gone.
Kael clenched his fists, claws threatening to break through skin. Werewolves were taught to fear vampires. To hate them. To kill them if needed.
So why did his chest ache?
Why did the memory of Lucien's calm crimson eyes burn hotter than the blood moon itself?
"Get it together," Kael muttered, dragging a hand through his hair.
But his wolf didn't listen.
The bond—unwanted, cursed, ancient—had already begun to tighten.
Lucien moved silently through the shadows of the ruined chapel, its stone walls cracked by time and war. Candles flickered as he entered, their flames bowing as if they recognized him.
He pressed a hand against his chest.
No heartbeat.
Yet something throbbed there.
Annoying.
Dangerous.
Human.
"A werewolf," he whispered, voice laced with disbelief. "Of all creatures…"
He had lived centuries without weakness. Without attachment. The Blood Moon Curse was supposed to be myth—a legend whispered among elders to frighten the young.
Two souls.
Opposing bloodlines.
Bound under a blood moon.
Lucien laughed quietly.
"So this is how it begins."
But when he closed his eyes, he didn't see blood or death.
He saw Kael's conflicted gaze. The way he had stepped forward instead of attacking. The way his warmth had lingered even after distance grew between them.
Lucien's fingers curled.
"This will destroy us both," he said.
Yet the thought didn't stop him from wanting to see Kael again.
Back in the werewolf territory, Kael faced the council fire. Elders sat in a circle, their eyes sharp, ancient, and unforgiving.
"You crossed into vampire land," one growled.
"I sensed something," Kael replied carefully. "A disturbance."
"Or temptation," another snapped.
Kael said nothing.
Because they were right.
"The Blood Moon approaches its peak," the Alpha said slowly. "If the curse awakens—"
"I won't let it," Kael interrupted, voice firm.
But deep down, fear coiled.
Because the curse didn't ask for permission.
It claimed.
That night, both of them dreamed.
A red moon burning the sky.
Blue light wrapping around crimson shadows.
Hands reaching—hesitating—then gripping tight.
When Kael woke, his pulse raced.
When Lucien opened his eyes, his fangs ached.
Miles apart.
Bound by the same pull.
And neither of them knew yet—
The curse had already chosen.