Chapter 1 — The Eighteenth Moon

Selina

The sharp scent of mildew clung to the damp corridors of Sablewood Orphanage, its oppressive weight seeping into every breath. Selina Ardent pressed her forehead against the cold stone wall, her fingers clutching the thin blanket draped over her shoulders. Outside, the forest whispered with the wind’s icy breath, its voice full of secrets she couldn’t quite decipher. Tonight, a strange restlessness gnawed at her insides—a feeling both familiar and alien, as though her body were bracing for something it instinctively knew was coming.

The bells in the distant village chimed twelve times, their echoes carried faintly through the mist. Her birthday. Eighteen years of surviving this place, never belonging, never knowing where she came from. She exhaled shakily, trying and failing to shake the memory of the headmistress’s piercing gaze earlier that day. There had been something off about it, a predatory sharpness that left her feeling exposed, as though she’d been unknowingly marked for something terrible.

Her bare feet moved soundlessly across the warped floorboards of the dormitory, past rows of sleeping children bundled under thin quilts. A faint warmth prickled under her skin, sharp and sudden, pulling her attention to the window at the far end of the room. She paused, unease coiling tighter in her chest. The moment she stepped into the moonlight spilling through the cracked glass, the air seemed to come alive, humming faintly as though her presence had disturbed it. Her breath stilled as she glimpsed the source of the faint glow outside.

The graveyard.

An amber light pulsed faintly, hidden among the skeletal trees beyond the orphanage walls. It wasn’t the silvery light of the full moon but something deeper, richer—like embers glowing in the dark. It seemed to pulse in time with her own heartbeat, pulling at her, calling her. Her legs felt rooted to the spot, yet her instincts screamed to move, to act.

“Selina,” a voice hissed from the shadows. She spun, her heart hammering. Lyra, one of the younger girls, sat up in bed, her curly black hair casting shadows across her face. “What are you doing?”

Selina forced a calming breath, though her voice betrayed her when she whispered back, “Nothing. Go back to sleep.”

“You’re acting weird,” Lyra said, her hazel eyes narrowing. Her tone was sharp but laced with concern. “If you’re sneaking out, I want to know where you’re going.”

“Lyra, please,” Selina said, softening her voice as she crouched by the bed. “You didn’t see me, okay? Just go back to sleep. I’ll explain later.”

Lyra gave her a long, measuring look before flopping back onto her pillow with a sigh. “Fine. But you better tell me everything.”

Selina hesitated, guilt prickling her chest, then rose and slipped through the doorway. The orphanage’s walls seemed to close in around her as she moved, the damp stone pressing in as though it wanted to trap her. Her steps quickened. Whatever was pulling her toward the graveyard wasn’t going to wait.

The cold air outside hit her like a slap, but it couldn’t quell the fire building in her chest. She scaled the rusted gate easily, her fingers and feet moving without hesitation. The frost-kissed grass crunched softly under her boots as she landed on the other side. The graveyard unfolded before her, its crooked headstones jutting up like jagged teeth. The amber glow at the center of the plot pulsed brighter now, spilling through the gaps in the skeletal branches.

Selina’s breath caught as she approached the source. A nameless headstone marked the spot, its surface worn smooth by time, save for the faint outline of a wolf howling at a crescent moon. The carving shimmered faintly under the moonlight, its edges defiant despite the years. Her fingers brushed the stone, and a jolt shot through her—sharp, electric, alive. She stumbled back, clutching her hand to her chest as a low hum filled the air, vibrating through her bones.

The earth shifted beneath her feet. Slowly, deliberately, the ground gave way, revealing a dark opening that yawned like the mouth of a beast. A chill ran down her spine, but her feet moved forward on their own. Compelled. Drawn. She crouched, peering into the void, where a narrow staircase descended into the dark. The glow from below pulsed again, stronger this time, a heartbeat outside her own. She hesitated for the briefest moment, then stepped down.

The crypt’s air was heavy and cold, thick with the smell of ancient decay. Her fingers brushed the damp walls for balance as she descended, the faint glow illuminating the crude carvings etched into the stone. Wolves in myriad forms lined the walls, howling beneath moons of every phase, standing guard over shadowy, humanoid figures. A tangled knot of thorny vines bordered the carvings, their edges sharp and deliberate. One carving—a wolf and crescent moon intertwined—sent a shiver through her. She didn’t know why, but it felt like it was waiting for her, like it had always been waiting.

At the bottom, the tunnel widened into a small chamber, the amber glow radiating from its center. There, resting on a pedestal of blackened stone, was a medallion. An iron sigil.

Selina’s breath hitched. The medallion was tarnished and heavy with grime, but its intricate design was unmistakable: a wolf howling at a crescent moon, framed by thorny vines. Her fingers trembled, drawn to it despite the warning that screamed in the back of her mind. The moment her hand closed around the cold metal, the world shifted.

Visions struck her like a storm. Fire and blood. Wolves under a crimson moon. A fortress crumbling into ruin. A woman’s voice—fierce and mournful—whispering her name. Her knees buckled under the weight of it all, and she collapsed against the pedestal, gasping for air. The medallion pulsed against her skin, its warmth spreading like wildfire, a thrumming rhythm in time with her heartbeat.

Footsteps shattered the silence. Selina’s head snapped up, her body frozen in place. The headmistress emerged from the shadows, her pale features sharpened by a wicked smile.

“I was beginning to think you wouldn’t find it,” she said, her tone smooth and cutting. “Your bloodline truly is remarkable.”

Selina stumbled to her feet, clutching the medallion to her chest. “What are you talking about?”

The headmistress stepped closer, her shadow stretching long and dark across the chamber. “You should have stayed ignorant,” she said softly, her words dripping with menace. “Ignorance is protection, child. But now you’ve forced my hand.”

Selina’s breath caught as the headmistress lunged. She dodged instinctively, the medallion’s heat flaring against her skin. Her legs moved before she could think, propelling her toward the staircase. Behind her, the headmistress’s voice rang out, sharp and commanding.

“Stop her! She mustn’t escape!”

Shadows stirred in the corners of the crypt. Selina didn’t look back. She bolted up the stairs, her breath ragged, her heart hammering in her chest. The night air hit her like a slap as she burst out of the opening, but she didn’t stop. She couldn’t.

The forest loomed ahead, its twisted trees both a promise of danger and a desperate hope for sanctuary. She dived into the undergrowth, her limbs burning as she pushed herself forward. Shouts and heavy footsteps echoed behind her, growing closer. She clutched the medallion tighter, its warmth her only reassurance in the chaos.

A low growl broke through the night. Selina froze. Her pulse thundered in her ears as the shadows shifted. A figure emerged—a massive wolf, its amber eyes glowing with an almost human intelligence. Its body bristled with power, muscles coiled beneath its fur. Selina’s breath hitched as it stepped closer, every movement deliberate and watchful.

For a single, endless heartbeat, they stood frozen, staring at each other. The medallion burned against her chest, and something stirred deep within her—a spark of recognition, a trembling pull. The wolf’s ears flicked back, and time seemed to hold its breath.

Then the spell broke. Selina tore her gaze away and ran. Her legs burned as she pushed through the underbrush, the trees closing in around her like guardians. The moonlight above seemed to guide her, its silvery glow a beacon cutting through the dark.

Whatever was happening, whatever she had unleashed, there was no going back.

At the edge of her awareness, the faint echo of a wolf’s howl rose into the night, a haunting melody that sent shivers down her spine. Selina didn’t know where she was going, but she knew one thing for certain.

She couldn’t stop now.