Alera sat on the edge of the cliff, overlooking the dark stretch of forest below. The night air whispered through the trees, carrying the scent of damp earth, pine, and something else danger. She wrapped her arms around her knees, trying to steady her thoughts. Too much had changed in too little time.
Kael had been gone for two days.
After returning from the rogue attack, he'd left to secure the outer borders of his territory. But with every hour that passed, unease coiled tighter in Alera's chest. Not because she doubted his strength Kael was a force of nature. No, what unsettled her was how fiercely she missed him.
It made no sense. She'd only just met him.
Yet it felt like a part of her had been ripped away.
Her wolf stirred, restless and pacing within her. Alera couldn't tell if it was because of Kael's absence or something else… something brewing in the distance.
Behind her, twigs snapped under heavy boots.
She rose swiftly, muscles taut, fingers twitching toward the blade strapped to her thigh.
"You always this tense?"
The voice was familiar. Deep. Dry. Teasing.
Alera turned to find Ronan—Kael's second-in-command and beta—walking toward her, his arms crossed and a half-smirk tugging at his lips.
"You move like a soldier," he said. "Kael wasn't exaggerating."
"I am a soldier," she replied flatly.
Ronan nodded, his eyes scanning her with quiet respect. "You were."
Her eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?"
"You're not just a soldier anymore, Alera. You're the mate of the Lycan King. That makes you… more."
Alera scoffed. "I didn't ask for more."
"No one ever does. But destiny doesn't care."
She looked away, back toward the horizon. The clouds were shifting, revealing the pale shape of the rising moon. But it wasn't silver tonight. It was red. Bloody. Ominous.
Ronan followed her gaze, and his expression sobered. "Blood Moon."
"What does it mean?"
He hesitated. "An old prophecy. Long forgotten. Or so we thought."
Alera turned sharply. "Tell me."
Ronan looked uneasy. "Not my place. Kael will—"
"I don't care. He's not here. You are."
For a long moment, Ronan said nothing. Then he sighed and sat beside her on the cliff's edge.
"There's a story," he began. "Of a time when the Blood Moon would rise, and a she-wolf powerful and marked by fate would awaken a power long lost to our kind. But with that awakening comes chaos. Blood. Betrayal. And a war that will tear the supernatural world apart."
Alera's pulse quickened. "You think I'm the she-wolf?"
He glanced at her. "You survived a rejection that should've killed you. You carry Kael's mark. And you've already drawn the rogues like flies to flame. So yes. I think you are."
The wind picked up, tugging at her hair. The forest below seemed to grow darker, the trees bending toward her like they knew something she didn't.
"But I don't feel powerful," she whispered. "I feel… lost."
"Then find yourself," Ronan said. "Before others do it for you."
Before she could respond, a low growl echoed from the woods.
Ronan leapt to his feet instantly, eyes glowing, muscles tense.
"Stay here," he ordered.
But Alera was already moving, following the sound. Her wolf surged forward, refusing to be sidelined again.
They reached the treeline just as a figure stumbled from the shadows.
A boy barely twelve bloodied and limping. His eyes were wide with terror.
"They're coming," he gasped. "The red-eyed ones. They took my pack. They… they're coming for her."
He pointed straight at Alera.
And then collapsed.
Alera dropped to her knees beside him, checking for a pulse. Weak, but there.
Ronan was already mind-linking the others, calling for backup.
"What do we do?" she asked, her voice tight.
"We run," Ronan said grimly. "Until Kael returns, we run."
But Alera shook her head.
"No. I've been running my whole life. From my rejection. From my worth. From who I am. Not anymore."
She stood, spine straight, shoulders squared.
"They want me? Let them come."
Ronan stared at her, a mix of pride and fear in his eyes.
"You sound like a queen."
Alera gave a bitter laugh. "Then I better start acting like one."
That night, the forest burned.
The rogues came in waves—wild-eyed, half-mad, and relentless. But Alera stood in the heart of the storm, blade flashing, wolf howling. She fought like she was born for it.
Because maybe… she was.
By the time Kael returned, the clearing was littered with bodies, and Alera stood bloodied but unbroken.
His expression was unreadable as he stepped over a fallen rogue, eyes fixed only on her.
"You defied me," he said quietly.
"I survived," she replied.
He reached for her, thumb brushing a cut on her cheek. "You led them."
Alera didn't speak. She didn't need to.
Kael kissed her then, fierce and claiming. The world fell away.
When he pulled back, his eyes glowed with something raw and ancient.
"The Blood Moon has risen," he whispered. "And with it, your power."
Alera stared up at him, breathless.
"Then let them come," she said. "I'm ready."