Chapter 1 — Chosen by the Moon

Mae

The call to Silverfang Keep came at twilight, the air thick with the scent of pine and damp earth. Shadows stretched long across the forest floor, the dying sun casting deep bronze streaks through the towering trees. Somehow, I knew the summons would change everything. I could feel it in the press of the cool wind against my skin, in the restless energy threading through the pack’s movements. Still, as I stood in the great stone hall, the words of the pack elders hit me like a storm, leaving me grasping for meaning.

“You have been chosen as the next Moon Goddess,” Valerio said, his voice as steady and unyielding as the stone beneath my feet. His tone carried a strange reverence, but beneath it lurked something sharp, something unspoken.

The air in the hall seemed to vanish. My ears rang. Around me, the elders nodded solemnly, their expressions carved from stone beneath the flickering torchlight. My legs threatened to give out, but I forced myself to remain upright, to project a composure I didn’t feel. My heart battered my ribs, a wild rhythm that refused to settle.

Valerio’s sharp gaze locked on mine, pinning me in place. “The Moonlit Grove made its will unmistakably clear,” he continued, his words deliberate and weighted. “The carvings glowed brighter than ever beneath the ancient trees last night, their light surging at your presence. The moon itself has chosen you.”

The weight of his words—of the legacy they carried—pressed down on me like an avalanche. My throat felt raw, constricted. The elders’ stares burned into me, heavy and expectant. Their approval was a blade, sharp and unforgiving, leaving no room for hesitation. I glanced toward the towering windows, where the moonlight filtered in, cold and unfeeling. A thousand questions burned at the back of my throat—What happens now? Why me? What if I can’t do this?—but I couldn’t form a single one. I could only nod, my voice a prisoner of the whirlwind inside me.

“You are the legacy of your mother,” Valerio said, his words cutting deeper. His calculating eyes softened for a fraction of a second before hardening again. “You honor her not just by accepting this role, but by excelling in it.”

My mother. Her face flickered through my mind, unbidden. Soft and radiant, her amber eyes glowing faintly like mine in the moonlight. She had carried this same burden once, borne it with a grace I could never hope to match. But I remembered, too, the toll it took on her—the hollow look in her eyes in the quiet moments, the weight she carried in her every step. The memory was a knife twisting in my chest. I bit the inside of my cheek, fighting off the sting behind my eyes.

“I understand,” I said, my voice steady—too steady, like it belonged to someone else entirely.

The hall erupted into murmurs. Elders and pack leaders debated the implications of my selection, their voices a low thunder rolling over me. I caught snippets of their words—“preparations,” “her training,” “the Challengers”—but they barely registered. The weight of their expectations pressed harder with every passing moment.

I excused myself, my voice barely audible over the roar of my thoughts. The echo of my boots on the stone floor trailed me as I fled the great hall, each step a futile attempt to outrun the inevitability of my fate.

---

Outside the keep, the forest air was sharp and cool, the scent of moss and wet earth grounding me. The moon had risen high, casting its silver light over the land. Luna’s Veil, they called it. The goddess’s light. Tonight, it felt foreign, oppressive, its glow too bright against the darkness.

I leaned against the cold stone wall of the keep, staring up at that glowing orb as if it might offer me answers. My breath puffed in the chill air, but it brought no clarity. As a child, I’d dreamed of this moment. My mother had told me bedtime stories of the Moon Goddess—tales woven with reverence, awe, pride. I’d imagined myself standing tall in the Moonlit Grove, radiant and strong, my mother’s smiling face watching over me.

But now...

Now, all I could feel was fear—a yawning chasm opening inside me. I wasn’t ready for this. I wasn’t strong enough. I wasn’t her.

I gripped the rough stone behind me, the sting of its cold biting my palms. My thoughts spiraled until a faint crunch of footsteps broke through. I turned, half expecting to see Talia or maybe Luca, but my chest tightened when I caught sight of Devon lingering in the shadows just beyond the tree line. My breath hitched.

He didn’t approach. His broad form remained half-hidden by the dark, his face shadowed. The faint gleam of his green eyes—almost gold in the moonlight—betrayed him. He was watching me.

For a moment, we stood frozen in place, neither of us moving nor speaking. His jaw worked, his lips parting as if he wanted to say something. But then he shook his head, his expression hardening. He turned and disappeared into the forest, leaving nothing but echoes of his presence.

My throat tightened. Devon Ironclaw. My fated mate. Or, at least, he had been. The bond between us had been severed long ago—by his choice, not mine. And yet, he lingered. Always lingering. Always watching, a ghost haunting the edges of my life.

I clenched my fists, forcing the ache down. This wasn’t the time to think of him, of the way his rejection had carved me open and left me bleeding. I had bigger problems.

---

That night, sleep eluded me.

The room they’d given me in Silverfang Keep was cold, the draft from the stone walls biting through my blanket. I tossed and turned, my mother’s face, Valerio’s words, and the hollow ache of Devon’s stare chasing me into restless half-dreams. When sleep finally claimed me, it brought no solace.

The dream began in the Moonlit Grove. The air shimmered, thick with the scent of wildflowers and moss, electric with the hum of moonlight. I stood in the center of the clearing, the ancient carvings beneath my feet glowing faintly. The light pulsed, its rhythm like a heartbeat, steady at first.

But then it faltered.

The glow flickered and dimmed, darkness pressing in from the edges of the grove. The air grew colder, sharper, biting at my lungs. My breath puffed white in the stillness, though no wind stirred.

A sharp crack shattered the silence.

I looked down, panic surging in my chest. The carvings beneath me were splintering. Jagged lines spread outward like spiderwebs, the ground trembling beneath my feet. The hum of the moonlight turned discordant, a sharp, grating sound that set my teeth on edge.

Then, from the shadows, a figure emerged. Faceless, cloaked in darkness, suffocating in its presence. It lingered just beyond the light, watching. Waiting. I tried to speak, to demand answers, but my voice wouldn’t come.

A glint of silver caught my eye. A dagger, curved like the crescent moon, glimmered in their hand.

The ground gave way beneath me, and I stumbled, my foot catching on the fractured carvings. The figure stepped closer, their suffocating aura pressing down on me. And in the faint glow of the moonlight, their eyes met mine—golden, piercing, and unmistakable.

I jolted awake, gasping, my heart pounding in my chest. My hands flew to my throat, half expecting to find the figure’s blade there. But it was only me, alone in the dark room, drenched in sweat.

The dream lingered, its edges sharp and vivid, carving itself into me like a scar. I couldn’t shake the image of those golden eyes—or the suffocating sense that they meant something.

Something was coming.

---

By morning, the dream hung over me like a shroud. I stood in the courtyard, watching the pack move about their routines, each moment feeling distant and surreal. The chill of the night still clung to me, the ache in my chest refusing to fade.

Talia found me by the training yard, her auburn curls bouncing as she jogged to my side. Her green eyes sparkled with their usual cheer, but her smile faltered when she saw my face.

“Mae,” she said, nudging my shoulder. “You vanished last night. I figured you’d need some air after… well, everything.”

I forced a smile, though it felt brittle. “Yeah. It was… a lot.”

“You look like you didn’t sleep,” she said, her tone light but edged with concern. “Bad dreams?”

For a moment, I hesitated. Talia was my closest friend, the one person who had always stood by me. If anyone would understand, it was her. And yet, the dream felt… raw, exposed, like something I wasn’t sure I wanted to say out loud.

“I had a vision,” I said finally, my voice low. “I was in the Moonlit Grove, and the carvings… they cracked. There was someone there. A figure, cloaked in shadows, with…” I hesitated, the words thick in my throat. “Golden eyes.”

Talia’s humor faded, replaced by a seriousness that made my stomach tighten. “Mae,” she said, her voice soft, “that doesn’t sound good. Do you think it’s a warning?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted, swallowing hard. “But it felt real. Too real.”

Talia placed a hand on my arm, her grip firm and grounding. “Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out. You’re not alone in this. Don’t forget that.”

Despite the lingering dread, her words brought a flicker of comfort. I nodded, squeezing her hand in return.

But as my gaze drifted toward the forest, toward the shadows where Devon had disappeared the night before, the unease in my chest only grew.

Something was coming. And I wasn’t sure I was ready for it.