Thunder rolled across the peaks of Blackridge long before the clouds arrived.
Aria stood at the edge of the woods, watching the horizon pulse with angry flashes of lightning. The air smelled different—sharper, like copper and ozone. Even the forest seemed to hold its breath.
Behind her, the cabin buzzed with tension. Reid was sharpening blades. Kade paced like a caged beast.
The shadowy intruder's message from the night before still echoed in her skull:
You're not the only one awakening…
Now that her mark had fully emerged, she could feel it—like a thread tugging gently at her core, pulling her toward something—or someone.
She wasn't alone.
And someone wanted the others dead.
---
"Magic doesn't just slip through our borders unnoticed," Kade growled, slamming a book shut. "Someone let that shadowcaster in."
"Shadowcasters haven't been seen since the Silver War," Reid said. "And even then, they were mercenaries. They don't give warnings for free."
Aria sat in the corner, absently tracing the crescent mark glowing faintly on her wrist. "He said I'm the key to ending a curse."
Kade looked up sharply. "What curse?"
She shook her head. "He didn't say. But he mentioned other Moonborn. Others… dying."
Kade's hands curled into fists. "If that's true, then we're not just fighting hunters and rival packs—we're racing time."
---
That evening, Kade called a council.
They met deep in the Nightfang territory—in a hidden cave marked by bone totems and fire pits. The inner circle of the pack gathered: warriors, elders, and the high shaman, an old woman with milky eyes named Elira.
Aria felt out of place at first. Eyes lingered on her—some curious, some hostile. Few spoke.
Until Elira raised her voice.
"I've waited many seasons for this mark to return," she said, pointing a gnarled finger at Aria. "I dreamed of her. The one who howls with moonfire."
Aria blinked. "You dreamed of me?"
Elira nodded. "You are the sign of the Reckoning."
Reid coughed. "Could we stop throwing around ominous words without explanations?"
Elira ignored him. "The Reckoning is the last prophecy. The old stories speak of a time when the Moonborn return—when the blood of the cursed runs with the blood of the chosen."
Aria frowned. "Chosen? Chosen for what?"
Elira's eyes went distant. "To awaken the sleeping ones. And to end the bloodline of the false king."
Silence.
Then Kade spoke. "That's a myth."
"Is it?" Elira asked, turning to him. "Or have you simply forgotten your place in it?"
Reid glanced between them. "Okay, anyone want to translate the riddle?"
Aria stepped forward. "If there are more like me… I want to find them."
"That would require leaving the territory," Kade said. "The Thornspire pack is waiting for an excuse to strike."
"Then let them," she snapped. "We can't sit here while more Moonborn die. If I'm the key, I need to find the lock."
Elira chuckled softly. "She speaks with fire already."
Kade's jaw worked. Then he exhaled and looked at Aria.
"We'll leave at dawn."
---
The map was old—hand-drawn, ink faded and fraying. Elira pointed to four symbols etched in red: the ancient strongholds of the Moonborn.
"One lies in Ashvale, across the mountains," she said. "One in the ruins of Hollowmarsh. One in the desert of Bleeding Dunes. And one… is here. Beneath your feet."
Everyone went still.
"What do you mean 'here'?" Aria asked.
Elira traced a finger in the dirt. "The last Moonborn refuge lies buried beneath the roots of Blackridge. A crypt sealed in blood and oath. Hidden… even from time."
Aria's heart quickened. "Can we open it?"
"You must. But only after you find the others. The crypt responds to the bond. Only the awakened can enter."
Kade folded his arms. "Then we leave for Ashvale first."
---
That night, Aria couldn't sleep.
Kade joined her on the porch, a quiet presence.
"We're leaving tomorrow," she whispered. "You sure about this?"
"No," he admitted. "But I'd rather face what's coming than wait for it to devour us."
She looked at him. "What happens if we fail?"
He didn't answer.
Instead, he took her hand and held it to his chest. "Then we die with honor. Together."
Her mark glowed at his touch.
---
The journey began before sunrise.
Kade, Aria, and Reid moved fast, staying off main roads and avoiding known pack territories. The farther they traveled from Blackridge, the colder the nights became, and the more restless Aria felt.
By the third day, her dreams were no longer just memories—they were visions.
In one, she saw a girl in a tattered cloak running through a city of ash.
In another, a boy with frost-white hair standing over a battlefield, weeping silver tears.
Each time she woke, her mark burned.
"They're calling to you," Kade said quietly on the fourth night as they camped near the cliffs. "The others. They're awakening too."
"Can they feel me?"
"Probably. Just like you feel them."
Aria stared into the fire. "Then we have to move faster."
---
On the sixth day, as they reached the misty woods of Ashvale, they found the first sign.
A body.
A boy, barely older than Aria. Dead in the snow, his throat slashed.
Kade bent beside him, sniffed the air. "This was recent."
Reid pointed. "Look."
On the boy's wrist—a faint silver crescent. Just like hers.
Aria knelt beside him, eyes stinging.
"We were too late," she whispered.
Kade said nothing. But the fury in his gaze said everything.
"We keep going," she said, rising. "We find the next."
---
That night, she stood alone at the edge of the forest.
She lifted her hand and stared at the mark.
"I don't know what I am," she whispered. "But if you can hear me… I'm coming. I'll find you. All of yo
u."
The wind carried her words into the trees.
And somewhere far, far away—a second mark flared to life.
A girl opened her eyes in a prison of iron.
And screamed.