Chapter Five: The Witch Returns
The storm rolled in with Elena.
Not with lightning. Not with rain.
But with a thick, eerie silence.
Luna sensed it first—her magic tingled along her spine like static electricity.
Sitting in the west parlor, she nursed a glass of scotch she didn't even enjoy, gazing into the fire as if it held some sort of revelation.
It didn't.
Then, she heard the door creak open. Her heart dropped.
And then—
"Figlia mia."
Luna didn't look up. "You're two weeks late."
"I was watching you."
"Of course you were. That's your thing. Spy, manipulate, control."
Elena sighed and moved closer. She appeared unchanged: dark waves of hair, her all-black dress, skin too flawless for her age. An immortal elegance, untouched by time.
"You found the book," Elena stated.
Luna tightened her grip on the glass. "You knew my mother."
"She was my blood sister in the coven."
"You never told me that."
"I couldn't."
"Why not?"
"Because if you learned who she really was, you'd go digging for the truth. And you're not ready for that."
Luna rose slowly, her voice trembling. "Don't even think about telling me what I'm ready for. I lost my entire pack in one night. I watched my father die in flames. I buried a mother I barely even knew. I've had to fight through every lie, every secret, all the damn rules you've put in place for me—"
"Because I had to protect you."
"No, Elena. You wanted to control me. There's a difference."
Meanwhile, upstairs, Dominic stood outside the library, caught off guard. He hadn't meant to eavesdrop.
He'd just heard her voice.
Luna's voice.
Raw. Pained.
Like someone had ripped her open and doused the insides with gasoline.
He should've turned away.
But instead, he stayed and listened.
"Elena," Luna whispered, "what do you know about the prophecy?"
The room grew quiet. Even the fire seemed to crackle less loudly.
Elena stepped closer. "It's not a prophecy. It's a warning."
Luna swallowed. "About what?"
"Love."
Dominic felt something snap inside him.
Like a wire pulled too taut.
He stepped back from the door.
Quickly.
Elena touched Luna's arm. "He's dangerous."
"So am I."
"No, Luna. You don't get it. If you give him your heart, the wolf inside him will rise. And once that happens… he won't be able to control it."
"He already can't."
"I'm not talking about lust or power. I mean the Bond."
Luna blinked. "The what?"
"The sacred connection between soulmates of the old blood. If it completes, if you mark each other, you'll both spiral into madness before you find peace."
Luna stepped back, disbelief crossing her face. "You're lying."
"I wish I were."
Dominic slammed the door to his room, his breath coming in ragged gasps.
The Bond.
Of course.
He knew it. Felt it deep within. The way his bones ached when she was close. The fire on his skin. The feeling of possessiveness.
He'd witnessed it in his father.
How love had twisted him from a king into a monster.
It always leads to ruin.
He dragged a hand down his face.
Not her.
He wouldn't let her be cursed because of him.
He'd break it.
Even if it tore him apart in the process.
That night, Luna stood on her balcony, staring up at the stars as if they owed her an explanation.
Her body still buzzed with the memory of his kiss.
Her heart ached with Elena's warnings.
But what really kept her up?
The nagging feeling that something inside her had already chosen him.
Then she noticed movement.
Across the courtyard.
A dark figure. Tall, moving too quickly to be human.
She rushed downstairs, bare feet against the cold floor, no weapon in hand. Just instinct.
When she reached the rose garden—
There he was.
Dominic.
Half-shifted. Bloodied.
Beside him?
A body.
Not dead, but close.
A hunter.
Luna froze.
His eyes glowed—golden, wild, and terrifying.
"Stay back," he growled.
"What did you do?"
"He followed you. He was going to take you."
"So you tore him apart?"
"He deserved worse."
She stepped closer, anger surging within her. "You don't get to make that call. You're not God."
"I'm your Alpha!"
The words hit her hard.
Luna stared at him, her chest rising and falling heavily.
Then she whispered, "No, you're not."
He flinched as though she'd stabbed him.
And just like that—
The bond between them strained.
Not broken, just stretched. Fractured.
He turned away.
And vanished into the shadows.