Prologue
The Night of the Crescent.
Twenty-three years earlier
Moonlight spilled through the forest in fractured silver ribbons.
Branches clawed at Lena’s cloak as she ran.
Pain shot through her side with every step, but she refused to slow down. The tiny bundle cradled against her chest was worth more than her own life.
Far behind her, howls shattered the silence.
Closer than before.
They were gaining ground.
Fear tightened its grip around her heart.
Not for herself.
For the child.
The infant slept despite the chaos, wrapped in a silver blanket embroidered with a crescent moon surrounded by intertwining branches. Dark curls peeked from beneath the blanket’s edge.
Too innocent for the burden fate had placed upon her.
Lena pressed a trembling kiss to the child’s forehead.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
Wind swept through the pines.
A large gray wolf emerged from the shadows ahead.
The beast’s amber eyes reflected the moonlight.
Relief washed through Lena.
The wolf shifted before her eyes.
Fur receded.
Bones reshaped.
Within seconds, an elderly woman stood before her, wrapped in a dark cloak.
Elder Morwen.
“You should have reached the shrine hours ago,” Morwen said sharply.
Lena struggled to catch her breath.
“They found us sooner than expected.”
Morwen’s expression darkened.
“Bloodfang?”
Lena nodded.
The older woman’s jaw tightened.
That answer carried consequences neither of them wanted to consider.
Another howl echoed through the valley.
Closer.
Angrier.
Morwen glanced toward the distant ridge.
“We don’t have much time.”
Lena followed her through a narrow passage hidden between ancient pines. Thick roots twisted across the forest floor, forming a natural barrier that concealed what lay beyond.
The hidden shrine appeared moments later.
Moonlight poured into the clearing.
Stone pillars surrounded a raised platform worn smooth by centuries.
Ancient symbols glowed faintly across its surface.
The air hummed with power.
Old power.
The kind woven into blood and memory.
Lena stopped at the center of the clearing.
Her legs threatened to give way.
She looked down at the child sleeping peacefully in her arms.
Tears blurred her vision.
This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen.
She should have watched her daughter grow.
Heard her first words.
Celebrated birthdays.
Protected her from the darkness gathering beyond the valley.
Instead, she was preparing to disappear from her life forever.
The infant stirred softly.
Small fingers curled around the edge of Lena’s cloak.
The simple gesture nearly shattered what little strength remained.
Morwen stepped closer.
“You know this is the only way.”
“I know.”
The words felt like broken glass.
“If they discover she survived, every pack will come for her.”
The old woman remained silent.
Because there was no denying it.
The massacre had failed.
The bloodline endured.
And that truth could ignite another war.
Lena carefully removed a brass key from around her neck.
Moonlight danced across its engraved surface.
The symbols matched those carved into the shrine.
She placed the key beside the child.
“One day she’ll need this.”
Morwen nodded.
“I’ll keep it safe until then.”
Another howl split the night.
Much closer now.
Several voices followed.
Men shouting.
Searching.
Hunting.
Lena’s blood ran cold.
They had found the trail.
Time was gone.
She lowered herself onto the stone platform and laid the child upon the silver blanket.
The infant’s eyes fluttered open.
Silver-gray.
Just like hers.
A sob caught in Lena’s throat.
She brushed trembling fingers through the child’s dark curls.
“Forgive me, little moon.”
The baby reached toward her.
Trusting.
Unaware.
Lena nearly changed her mind.
For one dangerous heartbeat, she considered taking her daughter and running deeper into the wilderness.
Running until the world ended.
But nowhere would be far enough.
Not from the packs.
Not from destiny.
Not from the prophecy waiting patiently in the shadows.
Morwen placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.
“You must go.”
Lena closed her eyes.
A single tear escaped.
Then another.
When she finally looked at her daughter again, determination replaced despair.
No matter what happened next, this would not be goodbye forever.
It couldn’t be.
She leaned forward and kissed the child’s forehead.
“When the crescent rises again,” she whispered, “I’ll find my way back to you.”
The wind stirred.
The shrine answered.
Silver light spread across the stone beneath the infant.
Slowly.
Softly.
A glow appeared on the child’s left wrist.
Lena froze.
Morwen inhaled sharply.
The crescent mark had awakened.
Earlier than anyone expected.
The symbol shimmered beneath moonlight.
Bright.
Beautiful.
Dangerous.
Somewhere beyond the forest, wolves howled.
A hunt had begun.
Lena forced herself to stand.
Every instinct begged her to stay.
Every mother’s instinct demanded it.
Instead, she stepped backward.
Then another step.
And another.
The distance between them grew.
The child watched her with wide silver eyes.
Lena memorized every detail.
The curve of her tiny face.
The color of her eyes.
The crescent mark glowing against her skin.
A memory to carry through the years ahead.
At the edge of the clearing, she stopped one final time.
Morwen gathered the infant into her arms.
The shrine’s light intensified.
Ancient symbols blazed across the stone.
The forest seemed to hold its breath.
Lena turned away before courage failed her completely.
Then she disappeared into the darkness.
Moments later, armed hunters burst into the clearing.
Too late.
The child was gone.
And beneath the watchful crescent moon, the last heir of a forgotten bloodline vanished from the world.
