Chapter One: The Night of the Blood Moon
The moon bled red.
High above Blackridge's forested hills, it loomed like an unblinking eye, casting a crimson glow over the dark, sleepy town. It wasn't the kind of night you took selfies under a full moon or sat outside sipping tea. This was the kind of night when animals grew silent, when shadows twisted the wrong way, and when even the bravest souls locked their doors — and didn't look outside.
Aria Blake did the opposite.
She stood barefoot on the porch of her aunt's rickety cabin, the wind clawing through her hair, her eyes fixed on the sky. The cold air bit at her skin, but the chill in her spine came from something deeper — something ancient. Something watching.
Something inside her stirred.
Her wrist burned.
The crescent-shaped birthmark she'd always hidden with bracelets pulsed under the red moonlight, glowing faintly as if reacting to the sky. She pulled her sleeve over it quickly, glancing back at the house. Her aunt was asleep, and the last thing Aria needed was another lecture about "moon omens" and "generational curses."
She turned toward the woods — the same woods her aunt had told her never to go into. Especially on nights like this.
But tonight felt different.
Like it was calling her.
She didn't know what made her step off the porch, or what drew her bare feet across the frozen grass, but her heart thudded like a war drum in her chest. Something was waiting for her. She could feel it.
Maybe she was losing it. Maybe turning twenty-one had snapped something loose in her brain. But the truth was: Aria had never felt sane. Not really.
Not with the dreams.
Not with the whispers.
Not with the voice that had started haunting her nights since her birthday last week — low, rich, and painfully familiar, though she didn't recognize it.
"My queen... find me."
It always ended the same way — with the image of glowing silver eyes and a burning crown sinking into the sea of flames.
She shook her head.
Crazy. She was going crazy.
But just as she was about to turn back toward the house, a scream pierced the air.
It came from the woods.
Aria froze.
Another scream followed — high-pitched, frantic, and fading fast. Her breath caught in her throat. She knew that voice.
Lena.
Aria took off running.
---
The trees seemed to close around her as she sprinted into the forest. Branches whipped against her arms, roots snatched at her ankles, and every shadow looked like it might lunge. But she didn't stop. Not until she found the clearing.
And the blood.
It was fresh — still steaming against the cold earth, soaking into the pine needles. A ripped jacket lay nearby.
Lena's.
"No... no, no—"
A sound behind her.
Aria spun, heart thudding.
The forest was silent again.
Too silent.
She turned back, panic rising.
Lena was gone. No body. No signs of struggle. Just blood… and a mark.
A crescent, carved crudely into the bark of a tree, glowed faintly under the blood moon.
Her mark.
She stumbled backward.
The air shifted.
A low growl rumbled from the shadows. Then another. And another.
Eyes — golden, glowing, inhuman — opened in the dark.
They were watching her.
Hunting her.
She ran.
---
Branches tore at her. She didn't know how long she ran or where her feet carried her, but the howls followed — one after the other, closing in. A blur of red leaves and black fur shot past her. Something snapped at her ankle. She tripped, rolled, and slammed into the ground.
And then… silence.
She blinked, vision spinning.
The growls had vanished.
Instead, there was a whisper in the trees.
Soft. Commanding. Familiar.
"Aria."
She lifted her head.
A figure stepped from the trees.
Tall. Wounded. Shirt torn and bloodied. Eyes like molten silver glowing in the dark.
He stumbled forward and collapsed at her feet.
"Y-you're real," she whispered.
He reached up, his hand trembling, fingertips brushing the crescent mark on her wrist.
"I found you," he breathed.
And then he passed out.
---
Aria dragged him through the woods.
She didn't know how, but some kind of surge — panic, adrenaline, instinct — pushed her through the trees until the house came into view again. The porch lights flickered. The blood moon dipped lower, veiled behind a thick wall of clouds. Whatever chased her had stopped at the edge of the trees… but they hadn't left.
She could feel it.
She dragged the man inside, locked the doors, and bolted the windows.
Then she looked at him.
Who the hell was he?
His chest rose and fell unevenly. Deep claw marks raked across his side. He smelled like forest and smoke and something… wild. Something not quite human.
Aria reached for the first-aid kit, fingers trembling.
When she turned back, he was awake.
"Don't scream," he rasped.
Too late. She stumbled back, but he didn't move. His silver eyes were glowing again, but not with malice — with pain. And something else.
Grief.
"You're bleeding," she said dumbly.
"You're glowing," he answered.
She glanced at her wrist. The crescent mark pulsed like a heartbeat.
"What are you?" she whispered.
He closed his eyes, as if the question exhausted him.
"I'm yours."
---
"Okay," Aria said finally, pacing the kitchen with a knife in one hand and her phone in the other. "I'm dreaming. I hit my head, passed out in the forest, and this is some crazy dream hallucination, right?"
"You're not dreaming," the man said.
"Shut up."
"I would," he groaned, "if I didn't need your help."
"You broke into my life, bled all over my floor, and said I was glowing like some kind of cursed firefly. You'll forgive me if I don't feel super helpful."
He smiled, just slightly.
"You still talk too much."
She froze. "What did you say?"
His eyes met hers, fierce and vulnerable all at once.
"I remember you."
"No," she said, shaking her head. "We've never met."
"We have. Not in this life… but in the one before."
Aria's pulse skipped.
The house suddenly felt too small. The air too tight.
She backed away. "You're insane."
"No," he said softly. "Just late."
He pushed himself up despite his wounds. "You don't remember me yet, but you will. The mark — it called to me. The blood moon awakened your power. And now the others know you're alive."
"Others?"
He limped forward.
"Aria, they will kill you before they let you remember. Before you awaken."
She stared at him, eyes wide.
And then he said the one thing that shattered the last bit of her sanity.
"You are the Moon Queen."
---
Outside, the wind screamed. Trees thrashed against the windows. Somewhere deep in the forest, a howl rose — long, mournful, and chilling.
She stepped back.
"No," she whispered. "This is a mistake."
"Your dreams. The fire. The voice you've heard since you turned twenty-one," he said. "That was me."
He reached for her hand. "Aria, you died protecting us. And now you've been reborn. But they will hunt you again."
She shook her head, tears rising to her eyes. "I don't know you."
"Then let me remind you," he said softly. "My name is Kael Draven. I was your mate. Your protector. And your killer."
Her breath caught.
"My what?"
Kael's eyes burned brighter.
"I killed you in your past life to save you."
Before she could speak, the porch light exploded. The front door blew open with a roar of wind and flame.
And standing in the doorway — glowing red eyes, bloodstained fangs, and claws longer than knives — was a creature Aria had only ever seen in dreams.
A nightmare in wolf's skin.