The wind howled through the forest like a wounded beast.
The Blood Moon had begun to fade, yet its afterglow burned across the heavens — a silent reminder of what was coming.
Chloe Brown stood on the cliffs of Moonvale, watching the mist roll over the valley below. The world looked peaceful from afar, but peace was a lie — a fragile silence before the storm.
Behind her, the campfire hissed and cracked. The scent of smoke mingled with the musk of fur and blood. Wolves in human form gathered around, eyes gleaming gold beneath the fading light.
Gary White, their Alpha, rose to his feet. His presence commanded silence.
His body was scarred, his silver hair braided with wolfbone beads — each marking a life taken in battle.
"The Blood Moon has spoken," Gary said, his voice rumbling like thunder. "The heir of vampires breathes again."
A growl rippled through the pack.
Chloe's gaze hardened. "James Wilson," she murmured. The name tasted bitter on her tongue — ancient and cursed.
Gary turned toward her. "You've seen him?"
"Not him," she replied. "But the omen."
Gary's expression darkened. "Then tell us what you saw, Luna Wolf."
Chloe stepped forward, her silver eyes reflecting the flames.
"When the moon burned red, I dreamed of a man waking beneath the earth. His blood reached for mine like a shadow stretching through time. I felt his sorrow. His power." She paused, her voice trembling slightly. "And then, I saw our world drowning in crimson."
The camp fell silent. Even the night seemed to hold its breath.
Chris Moore, the seer, leaned forward. Her blind eyes glowed faintly blue. "The prophecy stirs, child. You are its heart, and so is he."
Chloe frowned. "You mean the vampire?"
"Yes." Chris' voice was barely a whisper. "The curse that binds your souls was written before the first howl and the first thirst. You cannot escape it."
Gary slammed his hand against a rock. "I won't let this prophecy decide our fate again! The last one took my son!"
Chloe flinched. The name Martin White echoed in her heart like a wound that never healed.
Chris' tone softened. "You can deny fate, Alpha, but it will not deny you."
Gary glared at the fire, breathing heavily. "Then we strike first. We find this vampire heir and end him before the curse awakes."
A murmur of approval spread through the pack, low and fierce.
But Chloe didn't move. She watched the moonlight glint across her pendant — the crescent fang of her fallen mate.
"War won't end the curse," she whispered. "It never does."
Gary looked at her sharply. "And what do you suggest, Luna Wolf? That we wait until he kills more of us?"
Chloe lifted her eyes to meet his. "No. I'll go alone. I'll find him before you do."
The pack erupted in protest.
"You can't!"
"It's suicide!"
"He'll tear you apart!"
Chloe's voice cut through them like steel. "If the prophecy binds us, then I'll face it myself. If it kills me, at least it ends with me."
Gary's jaw tightened. He could see the same fire that once burned in Lupus' eyes — stubborn, unyielding.
After a long silence, he nodded. "So be it. But take Taron with you."
Chloe turned toward the tall, dark-haired wolf who had remained silent. His green eyes met hers — full of worry and something deeper he never dared to speak.
"As you wish, Alpha," Taron said quietly.
Gary looked between them. "Find him. Learn his intent. If he seeks war…" His gaze turned to the forest, his voice dropping to a growl. "…then let the moon rise over vampire graves."
🌘 Later that night…
Chloe sat beneath the trees, the forest alive with whispers. The moonlight danced through the leaves, painting her silver hair in threads of fire.
She closed her eyes and reached inward — to the Luna Spirit that dwelled within her.
The world fell away.
She stood in a place between light and shadow.
A field of crimson flowers stretched endlessly beneath a bleeding sky. At the center stood a man — pale, regal, with eyes like twin storms. His hand was covered in blood, but when he looked at her, there was sorrow in his gaze, not hatred.
James Wilson.
Their eyes met across the distance of time and fate.
"Why do you call to me?" she whispered.
His voice, distant yet clear, echoed through her mind.
"I don't. The prophecy does."
The flowers turned to ash. The ground split apart. A voice older than either of them whispered through the dark:
"When blood drinks moonlight and wolf meet shadow,
the curse shall awaken, and the gods shall remember."
Chloe gasped and fell back to the earth, her hands trembling. The forest around her was silent again — too silent.
Somewhere beyond the hills, she heard the faint toll of a bell from the vampire citadel.
The heir of blood had awakened.
And now, so had the prophecy.