Chapter Five – The Moon’s Prison

I woke up drowning in light.

It wasn’t water—it was thicker, colder. Every breath burned my lungs, and when I opened my eyes, everything around me shimmered like glass. The world was white—sky, ground, horizon—all swallowed by the same endless, blinding glow.

At first, I thought I was dead. Then I felt it—the faint, stubborn beat of my heart. And beneath it… his.

Rowan.

The bond pulsed weakly, a thread of gold through the fog. But it was dimmer than before, flickering like a dying flame.

“Rowan?” My voice was a whisper, echoing into the silence. “Can you hear me?”

Nothing.

Only the hum of the light around me, as if the air itself was alive. When I stood, my bare feet sank into something soft—ashes that glowed faintly beneath my steps. I looked down. Every print I left shimmered gold, before fading into silver smoke.

Where am I?

“You’re between,” a voice said behind me.

I spun around. A woman stood there—tall, pale, dressed in robes of moonlight. Her hair floated like mist, and her eyes were silver without pupils. There was no warmth in her face.

“Who are you?” I asked.

“The Moon’s Keeper,” she said. “Guardian of those who should not exist.”

I frowned. “What does that mean?”

“You are alive when you should be gone. Dead when you should be free. Your bond keeps you tethered to the mortal world, witch.”

Her gaze swept over me, cold and knowing. “A curse wrapped in love. How poetic.”

I took a step back. “You don’t understand. I didn’t ask for this bond—Rowan didn’t either.”

“No one ever asks for fate.” Her lips curved faintly. “They only beg when it’s too late.”

Her words crawled under my skin. “Then help me,” I said. “If you’re some kind of guardian—”

“I guard balance, not hearts,” she interrupted. “And your bond breaks it. The Alpha’s rage and your magic feed each other. If left unchecked, you will destroy more than each other—you will destroy everything.”

I shook my head. “I don’t believe that.”

She stepped closer, her presence like gravity pulling me down. “You think love will save you?” she asked softly. “Love is the oldest curse of all.”

Before I could answer, the world around us shifted. The air rippled—then shattered like glass.

I was standing in a forest. But it wasn’t real. The trees glowed silver, their leaves whispering secrets in a language I didn’t know. The ground pulsed faintly beneath my feet, like a living heartbeat.

And then—I saw him.

Rowan.

He stood at the edge of the clearing, half in shadow. His eyes burned gold, wild and desperate. But when I called his name, he didn’t move.

“Rowan!” I ran toward him—but the closer I got, the farther away he seemed. His image flickered like smoke, until it vanished completely.

“Rowan!” I screamed. “Come back!”

Silence.

The Keeper’s voice drifted through the trees. “You can see him because your souls are tied. But he walks the realm of flesh, while you walk the realm of memory. The bond is your bridge—and your chain.”

I clenched my fists. “Then I’ll find a way across.”

“Every step toward him costs you your life,” she said calmly. “And every step he takes toward you costs his. The prophecy cannot be unmade.”

“What prophecy?”

She tilted her head. “You really don’t know?”

I shook my head.

“The Moon’s prophecy speaks of two cursed souls—one of magic, one of fury—bound by the same thread of fate. Together, they will awaken the Omega Queen, and when their marks burn as one, one of them must die for the other to live.”

The words struck like ice in my veins. “No…” I whispered. “That can’t be true.”

She smiled faintly. “The moon does not lie.”

I turned away, refusing to believe her. “I’ll find another way. I don’t care what prophecy says.”

But even as I said it, doubt coiled in my chest. Because deep down, I remembered the night Rowan marked me—the way the burn had felt almost holy. The way it still pulsed with his heartbeat. What if the Keeper was right? What if the mark was counting down—to one of our deaths?

The Keeper began to fade, her form turning translucent. “You have six nights before the moon completes its circle. If you are still bound by then… the light will choose.”

“Choose what?”

“Which one of you remains.”

Her voice echoed as she disappeared, leaving me alone with the silver forest and the weight of her words.

---

I don’t know how long I wandered after that. Time didn’t exist here. The sky never changed; the light never dimmed. The air was thick with whispers—some of them familiar, some not.

At one point, I heard Rowan’s voice again. Faint, angry, desperate.

“Celine… hold on.”

Tears stung my eyes. “I’m trying,” I whispered. “I’m trying.”

I followed his voice, through forests of light and rivers of glass, until I reached what looked like a mirror suspended in the air. Inside it, I saw him—kneeling before a fire, blood on his hands, eyes full of guilt.

He was alive. But broken.

And then, behind him, I saw movement—shadows slithering through the smoke. A woman’s silhouette. Mira.

She was alive too.

“Mira…” I breathed, anger flooding my chest. “You betrayed us.”

The mirror rippled, and her laughter echoed through it—sharp and cruel.

“Oh, little witch,” her voice purred. “You think the curse was about you? You were just the key.”

“What do you mean?”

But the image blurred before I could hear more. The mirror shattered into a thousand shards, each reflecting Rowan’s face, each flickering with light—and then, nothing.

The air trembled again.

Something ancient stirred in the silver trees, like the entire realm inhaled at once.

Then a voice spoke—not the Keeper’s, not Rowan’s.

“Celine Hale.”

The name froze my blood.

It came from everywhere—and nowhere. Deep, resonant, divine.

“Who’s there?” I whispered.

The trees bent toward me. The ground glowed brighter.

“You wear my mark,” the voice said. “My light burns in your veins.”

“The Moon?” I whispered.

A low hum filled the air, like laughter made of thunder. “You should not be here. You tampered with fate. But I am merciful.”

“Merciful?” I spat. “You cursed me!”

“I chose you,” it said simply. “And I can unchoose you just as easily.”

My chest ached, my mark flaring hot under my skin. “Then do it. Take it back. End the curse.”

“You misunderstand.”

The light around me deepened, turning from white to gold. “I cannot unbind what was made whole. The Alpha marked you, and in doing so, completed my design.”

“What design?”

“To awaken what sleeps. The Omega Queen.”

The ground cracked beneath me, sending silver dust swirling. “I’m not your queen,” I hissed.

“No,” the voice said, almost tender. “But you will be her vessel.”

A cold wind whipped through the clearing, and suddenly I wasn’t alone. Dozens of shadowy figures stepped out from the trees, their eyes glowing with moonlight.

My pulse raced. “What are they?”

“The first wolves,” the voice murmured. “My children. They await their queen.”

The shadows moved closer, surrounding me.

I tried to summon my magic, but nothing happened. The light smothered it.

“Stay away from me,” I warned.

They didn’t stop.

One of them—taller than the rest—reached out, his claws brushing my arm. The mark on my chest blazed in response, sending pain shooting through my body. I screamed—and the forest exploded in light.

When the glow faded, the shadows were gone.

But on the ground before me, burned into the ash, was a symbol I’d never seen before: a crescent moon intertwined with a wolf’s eye.

And under it, glowing faintly, were words written in gold:

“When the mark burns red, blood will decide the throne.”

My breath caught. Red—the same color it had turned the night Rowan and I first touched.

Suddenly, the air shifted again, and I felt it—his heartbeat, wild and panicked, through the bond.

Rowan was coming.

But so was something else.

Something older.

Something hungry.