The room was quiet—too quiet.
Only the sound of shallow breathing filled the cold space as Aira Moonstone twisted beneath the worn-out blankets. Moonlight spilled through the half-cracked window, painting her pale skin in silver. Her brow was damp, her fists clenched, her heartbeat uneven.
And then—
She was eight again.
The air smelled of ash and iron, thick with smoke and screams.The howl of pain echoed through the night as the Silverstone Pack was under siege.Rogues—ruthless, bloodthirsty, endless—descended like shadows, tearing through the trees, leaving nothing but fire and death behind.
Tiny feet hit the forest floor as Aira ran, her breath ragged, her legs burning. She didn't know where she was going—just away.Away from the fire. Away from the blood.Away from the eyes watching her from the dark.
A sharp growl. Then three dark figures emerged from the trees—rogues, snarling, grinning.
"Get her."
She screamed.
Suddenly—a flash of red.
A sword, glowing like it was forged from flame and fury. And wielding it was her mother, Selene Moonstone, warrior and mother, bloodied but unbroken. Her long black hair whipped in the wind as she swung the blade, slicing through one rogue with terrifying grace.
"Aira! Run!"
But Aira stood frozen. Watching.
Selene turned, battling the remaining three, blades clashing, claws tearing.She was holding her ground—but she was pregnant. Six months with Aira's unborn siblings. Her strength was waning. Her breath came harder.
Then—he appeared.
The Rogue King.
He stepped from the shadows, his eyes gleaming with malice. Taller than the others, crueler. And silent.While Selene was fighting the others, he struck. A coward's move.The red blade dropped from her hand with a clatter as his claws plunged into her stomach, sinking into flesh and life.
Selene gasped. Blood soaked her dress. Her knees hit the earth.
"No!" Aira cried, stumbling forward, but her legs wouldn't move fast enough.
The Rogue King turned, locking eyes with the trembling eight-year-old.A cruel smile curved his lips.
"I'll come for you," he whispered.
Then he vanished into the shadows.
Just as two wolves crashed into the clearing—Kael Moonstone, Aira's father and Beta of the pack, and Elijha Thorne, the Alpha. But they were seconds too late.
Kael dropped to his knees beside Selene, clutching her to his chest. Her blood stained his hands as he sobbed her name.
Selene's eyes fluttered open. She looked past him—straight at Aira.
Even in pain, her voice was soft, trembling, as she spoke her last words. A riddle. A gift.
"The moon hides its light not to fade… but to strike brighter in the dark.""You are my moon, Aira. You are the storm they never saw coming."
And then she smiled. One last, aching smile.And let go.
Aira sat up in bed with a gasp, drenched in sweat, her chest heaving, the sound of her mother's dying words echoing in her ears.
It was just a dream.But not a dream at all.
It was her past.Her curse.Her beginning.