Chapter 3: The Wolf Beneath Her Skin
The moon was sinking behind the treetops by the time Lysandra reached the edge of the forest. Dawn lay like a whisper on the horizon—pale, hesitant, unaware of the storm that had just brushed past her soul.
Her hands were still trembling.
Not from fear.
Not from the cold air.
But from him.
Evander.
A human boy with nothing extraordinary about him—
no magic, no claws, no wolf inside—
Yet he had walked into a cursed forest for a stranger's scream.
Had reached out to her without hesitation.
Had looked at her as though she wasn't dangerous.
And worst…
Her wolf had gone quiet around him.
Almost gentle.
Lysandra didn't like how that made her feel.
She pushed open her cottage door. The hinges creaked in the familiar way, and the warm air from inside brushed her face like a comforting palm.
The cabin was small—just one bedroom, a hearth with dying embers, shelves filled with herbs and books, and the faint glow of moon talismans she used to keep her wolf asleep on dangerous nights.
She slid down to the floor, back against the door, and let herself breathe properly for the first time since the forest.
Her wolf stirred.
That boy…
Lysandra closed her eyes, exhausted.
Don't say it.
He smells like something we know.
She frowned.
You're imagining things. He's human.
Humans can carry ancient blood too.
She stiffened.
Evander? Impossible.
Nothing in this world is impossible, Moonblood.
Lysandra pushed her fingers through her hair.
"I don't want to talk about him."
Her wolf huffed.
You always talk about him. Even when your lips don't.
Lysandra groaned and stood up.
Enough.
She walked to the washbasin, splashing cold water on her face—and gasped.
A faint mark glowed across her collarbone.
Silver.
Like a crescent claw.
She ripped her cloak off and stared into the cracked mirror.
A mark.
Moon-white.
Shaped like a clawprint.
Her wolf whispered:
He touched you.
Lysandra's breath hitched.
"The Shadow Heir? That wasn't his hand—he didn't touch my skin."
He touched your magic. That is worse.
"No…" Lysandra whispered.
"I can't be marked. My wards should've stopped—"
Her wolf snarled softly.
Your wards were made for Nightborne.
Not for him.
Lysandra clutched the table.
If the Shadow Heir had marked her—
That meant he could track her.
Anywhere.
Anytime.
Her chest tightened.
Evander.
He walked her through the forest.
He heard her scream.
He found her.
Her feet moved before thought caught up. She grabbed her cloak, tying it hastily. She had to warn him. He shouldn't be near her. Ever.
As she stepped outside, a shadow landed in front of her.
Literally landed.
Lysandra flinched, stepping back.
A tall man—easily as tall as the forest trees—stood before her, wearing a cloak woven from moonlight itself. His eyes glowed silver, and his hair looked like stardust.
Caelum.
The Moon Guardian.
He bowed slightly.
"Moonblood."
Lysandra swallowed.
"Don't call me that."
"It is what you are."
"I didn't ask to be."
He straightened, studying her carefully.
"You were seen," he said in a grave voice.
"You should not have been alone in the forest last night."
Lysandra hesitated.
She didn't want to tell him about Evander.
"Something happened," Caelum continued.
Lysandra's blood ran cold.
Caelum pointed to the mark on her collarbone.
"You were touched by shadow."
"It wasn't him," she lied instantly.
Caelum's eyes narrowed.
"Do not lie to me."
Her throat tightened.
"I… don't know what it was."
Caelum stepped closer, gaze soft but heavy.
"I do."
Lysandra clenched her fists.
"What does the mark mean?"
Caelum inhaled slowly.
"It means the Night Heir has claimed interest."
Lysandra's breath trembled.
"No. He doesn't know me."
Caelum looked at her with quiet sadness.
"He spoke your full name last night."
Her heart stopped.
"How do you—?"
Caelum cut her off with a raised finger.
"The moon told me."
Lysandra collapsed onto the doorstep, head in her hands.
"I didn't ask for any of this."
Caelum's voice gentled.
"No heir ever does."
Silence settled between them.
Then Caelum spoke again.
"You must leave Luneville."
Lysandra looked up sharply.
"No."
"You are not safe here."
"I don't care about safety. This is my home."
"You are putting others at risk!" Caelum snapped.
The words hit her like a slap.
Evander.
The townspeople.
The children who bought flowers from her.
Her heartbeat grew erratic.
Caelum crouched in front of her, his tone gentler.
"If the Night Heir wants you… he will not stop. He will tear apart this entire town to find you."
Lysandra swallowed thickly.
"What if I go alone? Into the mountains?"
"No," Caelum said instantly.
"You cannot face him without training."
She shook her head.
"I don't want to fight him."
"You will have no choice."
Her voice cracked.
"I'm not strong enough."
Caelum lifted her chin gently.
"You are Moonblood. You are more powerful than even the moon knows."
She blinked back tears.
"What if I hurt people? What if I—"
Her voice broke.
"What if the wolf inside me becomes something I can't control?"
Caelum looked deep into her eyes.
"Then control it before it controls you."
Lysandra took a shaky breath.
"And Evander?" she whispered before she could stop herself.
Caelum froze.
His silver eyes sharpened.
"The human boy you met in the forest?"
Lysandra stiffened.
"How do you—?"
"Moonblood does not hide easily," Caelum said. "Your emotions flare like light. He is tied to your aura."
Her cheeks heated.
"We're not tied. He was just… helping."
Caelum hummed softly.
"You like him."
Lysandra's eyes widened.
"No, I— it's not—"
Caelum smirked faintly.
"Your wolf likes him even more."
Her face turned bright red.
She stammered, "He's—he's HUMAN!"
"Moonblood does not love by species," Caelum said simply.
"It loves by fate."
Lysandra froze.
Fate.
That word tasted too sharp in her mouth.
"What does fate have to do with him?" she whispered.
Caelum gave her a long, knowing look.
"The Shadow Heir has marked you."
He paused.
"The moon… does not want you marked."
Lysandra's heart pounded.
"And Evander?" she pressed.
Caelum's voice softened.
"There are two kinds of bonds in our world, Moonblood."
He lifted one finger.
"One born in darkness."
Then another.
"And one born in choice."
Lysandra's breath caught.
"Which one is Evander?"
Caelum smiled faintly.
"You already know."
Her chest tightened painfully.
"Will he be in danger?"
Caelum's expression hardened.
"Yes."
She tried to stand—but Caelum pressed a hand to her shoulder gently but firmly.
"You cannot warn him."
Lysandra shook her head violently.
"I have to."
"The more you run to him, the more the Night Heir will notice him."
Lysandra's voice cracked.
"But he helped me."
"Then repay him by staying away."
Tears blurred her vision.
The thought of not seeing Evander again made something inside her wolf whine with pain.
"I can't do that," she whispered.
"You must," Caelum said.
"For his safety."
The wind shifted—cold and familiar.
A whisper slid across her skin.
Running from me won't save him.
Her breath shattered.
The Shadow Heir was listening.
Caelum's face grew grim.
"He is close," he warned.
"We don't have much time."
Lysandra stood, wiping her tears.
Her wolf rose with her—
strong, fierce, protective.
"I won't let him hurt Evander," she said.
Caelum nodded.
"Then come with me. Now."
Lysandra hesitated.
Her cottage behind her…
Evander somewhere in town…
The forest hiding a monster who wanted to claim her…
She clenched her fists.
"Where are we going?"
Caelum extended his hand.
"To the Silver Sanctuary.
To train you.
To awaken what lies inside."
Lysandra took a deep breath.
Then took his hand.
As they vanished into moonlight—
far away, in Luneville—
Evander stood outside her empty cottage, frowning.
He had come to check on her.
To make sure she was safe.
He didn't know he had arrived just minutes too late.
And he didn't know—
someone else arrived even sooner.
A shadow moved behind him.
Violet eyes glowed.
And a cold voice whispered:
So this is the boy she protects.
Evander stiffened, sensing danger but unable to see it.
The Shadow Heir smiled.
Interesting.