CHAPTER 8

Morning came slowly. Not the soft kind with golden sun and birdsong. No. This one dragged itself across the sky like a wounded thing, grey and heavy and cold. The fire had burned out, leaving behind nothing but cold ash and silence.

I stood by the window, arms tight around myself. The trees outside swayed gently, but I didn’t feel calm. I felt watched. Like the forest knew things I didn’t.

Behind me, Maverick moved quietly. He didn’t say much. Just like last night. We hadn’t talked since I told him he disgusted me. He didn’t fight it. Didn’t defend himself. He just sat there like he was waiting for the verdict he already expected.

“You should eat,” he said now, his voice low, rough.

I shook my head. “I’m fine.”

He was quiet again. The kind of quiet that felt like pressure in the room, like something waiting to break.

I turned slowly. He stood at the counter, holding a cup of water, staring at it like he didn’t know what to do with it.

“You should’ve told me everything,” I said.

“I know.”

“You had time. Days. Weeks.”

He nodded once. “I told myself I was protecting you.”

I let out a soft, humorless laugh. “From the truth?”

No answer.

I studied his face. The lines there. The guilt.

“You used me.”

“No,” he said quickly. Then slower. “Not like that. I didn’t know everything. Not until after.”

I waited.

“When your bond with Mason broke… I felt it. Like a snap inside me. That’s when I knew. You were my mate. But the mark... I didn’t understand it until Felix and I carried you here.”

“You remembered something,” I said softly.

He nodded. “Dreams. Visions from when I was a kid. A woman with silver eyes. A crescent moon scar. She was always standing in fire. Sometimes holding light. Sometimes blood.”

I felt the chill crawl over me.

“I didn’t want to believe it,” he added. “Until I saw you.”

My hand touched my ribs. The mark had become more than just a scar. It pulsed now, soft and warm under my skin.

“I don’t hate you,” I whispered. “But I don’t trust you either.”

His voice cracked. “Then I’ll earn it. If it takes forever, I will.”

I turned away.

That night, the wind howled outside like it was trying to tell us something. I couldn’t sleep. The fire had died down to just embers, and I didn’t bother feeding it.

I pulled up my shirt slowly, checking the wound. It had almost healed, but what caught my eye was the crescent mark.

It glowed faintly. Like moonlight trapped under skin. When I touched it, something deep inside me stirred. Not fear. Not pain.

Memory.

Like I was waking up from something ancient.

“I don’t want this,” I whispered.

But the mark didn’t care.

I stepped outside.

The cold hit me first. Then the stillness. Even the trees seemed to be holding their breath.

A shape moved near the edge of the woods.

Felix.

He leaned against a tree like he’d been waiting for hours. “You should be resting,” he said.

“Couldn’t sleep.”

He stepped closer. “You saw the mark, didn’t you?”

I nodded. “Tell me what it means.”

“You already know. You just don’t want to say it out loud.”

“Say what?”

“That you’re not just someone’s mate. Not anymore.”

I looked away.

“They’re watching you,” Felix said. “The Council. The ones who remember the old prophecy.”

“Watching me for what?”

“For the signs. For when the Moon Priestess rises again. The mark is one. The child is another.”

My stomach twisted. “I didn’t choose this.”

“The mark chooses.”

“So what now? They kill me before I become a problem?”

Felix’s eyes narrowed. “They’ll try.”

I wrapped my arms around myself. The baby fluttered in my belly, just a soft reminder.

“What do you want from me, Felix?”

He stepped close. His voice dropped. “I want to see what happens when you stop being afraid. When you stop trying to survive and start becoming who you’re meant to be.”

“And who is that?”

His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “The girl who burns the old world down.”

The next day, I told Maverick we needed to leave.

“There’s a place,” he said. “Hidden. Not far. We might find answers there.”

So we ran. Through the forest, half-shifted for speed. My body ached but didn’t break. Something was changing in me.

We reached it by sunset. A stone outpost carved into the roots of a mountain tree. Ancient. Forgotten.

Inside, the air was thick with dust and old magic. Symbols covered the walls. Some pulsed faintly when I stepped near.

“This place is older than any of us,” Maverick said.

A man stepped from the shadows.

Tall. Pale. Eyes sharp like he saw everything.

“You brought her,” he said to Maverick.

“She brought herself,” Maverick replied.

“Show me the mark,” the man said.

I hesitated. Then I pulled up my shirt.

He exhaled slowly. “It’s real, then. The prophecy lives.”

“You know about it?” I asked.

He nodded. “I’m Solon. Keeper of what the Council tried to erase.”

And so he told us. Of the Moon Priestess. Of the wars. Of the peace she once bought with blood and fire.

“She wasn’t born to lead,” he said. “She was chosen. Like you. The mark appears when the world starts to unravel.”

“What happened to her?”

Solon looked away. “She died. They always do.”

My chest tightened. “So I’m meant to die?”

“You’re meant to decide. The prophecy doesn’t say how. Only your choice changes everything.”

I stared at the glowing walls. History etched into stone.

“I don’t want to burn,” I whispered.

“No one does,” Solon said. “But fire purifies.”

That night, I sat alone in the outpost, near the old carvings.

The mark on my side throbbed softly. The baby kicked once, like it was answering something I hadn’t asked.

I closed my eyes and remembered all of it. The rejection. The lies. The pain. The prophecy. The blood.

But also the strength.

Felix’s voice echoed in my head.

“I want to see what happens when the most powerful Luna in centuries stops begging for love… and starts demanding war.”

Maybe I wasn’t ready to burn the world yet.

But I was ready to stop hiding from it.