The full moon hovered above the darkened forest, its silver light seeping through the dense canopy of trees. An eerie stillness blanketed the woods, broken only by the rustle of leaves and the soft thud of footsteps.
Seventeen-year-old Aria Blake ran barefoot through the trees, her breath coming in ragged gasps, heart pounding like a war drum in her chest. Her long, tangled hair whipped against her cheeks, damp with sweat. She didn't look back. She couldn't. If she did, she might stop — and stopping meant dying.
They were coming.
Not humans. Not animals. Something in between. Something ancient.
Her faded crescent-shaped birthmark burned on her collarbone, stinging with every step she took, as if reacting to the presence of the creatures chasing her. She didn't understand why it always did this — only that it had something to do with them.
She darted through the underbrush, ignoring the thorns slicing her ankles and the branches clawing at her arms. She'd grown up hearing the stories — stories the elders whispered with dread in their eyes. Of a pack that once ruled the mountains, bound by sacred blood and divine rage. Of wolves who could walk as men.
But she never believed any of it. Until now.
A snarl tore through the night, low and guttural. Too close. Too real.
She stumbled on a rock and hit the ground hard, her knees scraping against the forest floor. Pain lanced up her legs, but she bit her tongue and scrambled to her feet. She couldn't stop now.
Just when her strength began to give out, she saw it — the glowing outline of the border. A shimmering line of old magic that separated the human lands from what her people called the Forbidden Wilds. The wolves never crossed it. At least… not yet.
She lunged forward and collapsed just past the line. Silence fell instantly. No footsteps. No snarls. Nothing.
Her body trembled violently as her vision blurred. The mark on her collarbone stopped burning. It was over. For now.
But as her consciousness faded, the last thing she saw was a tall figure watching her from the shadows, his golden eyes glowing like fire.
He didn't cross the border. But he didn't leave either.
—
When Aria woke, she was in her grandmother's cottage, tucked under warm wool blankets, a faint scent of lavender and pine in the air. The familiar wooden walls and creaky floor brought a strange sense of comfort — until the pain returned. Her legs ached, her head throbbed, and the mark on her collarbone was hot to the touch.
She sat up quickly, wincing. "Grandma?"
The old woman entered the room moments later, her long gray braid swinging behind her and a tray of herbs in hand. Her sharp eyes immediately softened when she saw Aria awake.
"Thank the moon, child," Grandma Mae whispered, setting the tray down. "What were you doing out there?"
"I—" Aria hesitated. "I had to see it for myself. The stories. The border. The wolves…"
Mae's eyes darkened. "You crossed into the borderlands alone? Are you mad, girl?"
"I didn't cross. I stopped just past the shimmer line. But they were chasing me."
Mae's face turned grim. "Then it's worse than I feared."
Aria flinched. "What do you mean?"
Her grandmother pulled up a chair and sat beside the bed, taking Aria's hand. "There's something I haven't told you. About the mark. About who you really are."
Aria blinked. "You said it was just a birthmark."
"It's not," Mae said softly. "It's a faded wolfmark. A sign of a soulbond. You were born with it, but the magic faded before it could take root."
"A… soulbond?"
Mae nodded. "It means someone — some wolf — claimed you before you were even born."
Aria's stomach dropped. "Claimed me?"
"Not in the way you think. It's not possession. It's fate," Mae explained. "You're tied to someone in the Bloodpack. Their mark should have grown stronger with time, but yours… it faded. That usually only happens if the bond is broken… or if the other half dies."
"But I saw him. He was watching me from the trees. Golden eyes. He was alive."
Mae's lips pressed together. "Then your bond was never fully broken. Only buried. Hidden."
Aria's breath caught in her throat. "So what happens now?"
Before her grandmother could respond, a loud knock boomed at the door. Not a normal knock. It was rhythmic. Deliberate. Like a call.
Mae froze.
"No," she whispered. "They wouldn't…"
Another knock. Three times, then silence.
Mae stood quickly, her voice low and urgent. "Stay here. Do not come out."
But Aria had already swung her legs over the bed, her instincts screaming louder than reason.
When Mae opened the door, the air shifted. Cold wind rushed in, and so did he.
The boy from the woods.
He stepped into the cottage with the grace of a predator, tall and broad-shouldered, with jet-black hair and eyes like molten gold. There was something feral about him, but not monstrous. He looked… human. Almost. Except for the scent of pine and danger that clung to him like a second skin.
His eyes landed on Aria instantly.
She felt the air leave her lungs.
"You shouldn't be here," Mae said sharply.
"I waited seventeen years," the boy said, his voice low, gravelly. "I'm not waiting anymore."
Aria stared at him, heart thudding. "Who are you?"
He took a step forward, never breaking eye contact. "My name is Kael. And you're mine."