Chapter 4 Bound
The storm had died, but the world still smelled of lightning.
Aria stood on the ridge above Maeve’s hut, watching dawn break across the forest. The air was clean and sharp, cutting through the ache in her chest.
Every sound felt different now, it felt clearer, deeper, sharper and louder. She could hear the heartbeat of a deer half a mile away, the hum of wind against wet leaves, and even the slow pulse of the earth beneath her feet.
'We are one now.'
The whisper still echoed inside her head.
She squeezed her eyes shut. “No,” she muttered. “You’re not me.”
'Aren’t we?' The voice purred, low and smooth. 'You called for vengeance. I only answered.'
Aria’s hands trembled. The faint crescent mark on her forehead flickered in the weak sunlight before fading again.
Maeve’s warning from the night before wouldn’t leave her: Whatever entered you tonight wasn’t only the Moon.
Behind her, the old hut door creaked open.
Maeve stepped out, draped in a dark shawl. “You didn’t sleep.”
“I couldn’t.” Aria’s voice was hoarse. “Every time I close my eyes, I see her, my other reflection, smiling back like she owns me.”
Maeve’s expression tightened. “The Goddess doesn’t smile, child. If she does, it’s when she’s watching what's about to come next.”
“What do you mean?” Aria asked.
Before the witch could answer, a sound rolled through the woods, not the call of wolves, but the deep growl of an engine. Aria turned sharply toward the sound. The growl came closer until it cut off in a shudder of silence.
Maeve’s eyes narrowed. “We don’t get visitors here.”
Aria caught the scent first , it was masculine, wild, sharp with iron and forest musk. It's not Kael. The scent is different. It seems more dangerous. “Someone’s coming.”
A tall figure emerged through the mist that still curled along the treeline. His coat was soaked, his boots heavy with mud. His eyes that are pale amber, almost gold, locked on Aria the moment he stepped into view.
Maeve’s grip tightened on her staff. “Lucian.”
Aria’s pulse stuttered. “You know him?”
“Everyone who’s lived long enough knows the outcast Alpha.” Maeve’s tone was cold. “Lucian of the Nightfang line. Banished for spilling Alpha blood.”
Lucian’s gaze flicked briefly to Maeve. “Still alive, witch? I thought time would’ve eaten you by now.”
Maeve bristled. “And I thought exile would’ve taught you manners.”
But Lucian wasn’t looking at her anymore. His focus was now back on Aria, it's steady, unreadable, piercing. “You’re the one who shook the forest last night.”
Aria stepped back, instinctively defensive. “You felt that?”
“Everyone with wolf blood did. Half the packs think the Moon’s cursed the land.” His lips curved slightly. “But I think she chose someone new.”
Maeve’s staff struck the dirt. “Careful, boy. The Moon’s choices aren’t for you to question.”
Lucian ignored her. He took a step closer Aria, his voice dropping low. “What are you, Luna?”
Aria swallowed, meeting his gaze. “Someone who lost everything. Someone who won’t run anymore.”
His eyes softened for just a second, or maybe she imagined it. Then he said, “Revenge burns fast. What would be left after it dies?”
“Then I’ll make sure it never does,” she snapped.
Lucian studied her, there was something like dark amusement flickering across his face. “You've spoken like a true Luna of war.”
Before she could reply, a sudden pain lanced through her chest. She gasped, clutching at the mark on her forehead.
The shadow within her surged alive with eagerness. The world dimmed around the edges as her power pulsed, reaching outward like tendrils.
Lucian’s eyes widened. “You’re losing control.”
“Get...away!” Aria choked, but it was too late. The air thickened with silver mist, and the ground cracked beneath her feet. The mark on her forehead flared, and a wave of power exploded outward.
Lucian lunged forward, not to attack her, but to steady her. His hands gripped her shoulders, his voice was harsh but grounding. “Breathe, Luna. Pull it back!”
Aria gasped, fighting the chaos inside her. The whisper returned, laughing now. 'He touches us like he knows the darkness too.'
“Stop!” she shouted, pushing the voice back with everything she had.
For a moment, everything went white. When the light faded, she found herself on her knees, shaking. Lucian still held her steady, though his eyes glowed faintly gold, his wolf was rising to the surface.
Maeve watched them both, her face pale. “The bond... it reacted to him.”
Aria blinked. “What bond?”
Lucian’s jaw tightened. “You shouldn’t have been able to survived that ritual. Unless....” He hesitated, then added quietly, “..unless the Moon bound your soul to someone else’s.”
Aria’s breath caught. “Bound my soul? to who?”
Lucian met her gaze, and for the first time since he arrived, there was something like dread in his eyes.
> “Me.”
The word struck her like a blow. The wind stilled, and somewhere deep in the forest, a wolf howled long and low, as if announcing something ancient and irreversible.
Aria stared at him, disbelief and fury warring in her chest. “That’s impossible.”
Lucian’s voice was quiet, but certain. “Then explain why your heartbeat matches mine.”
He pressed her wrist to his chest and she heard it. Two rhythms, perfectly in sync.
The mark on her forehead pulsed once… twice…
Then the whisper returned, softer than before, almost smiling.
'The Moon doesn’t make mistakes.The moon choose him.'
