The Blood Moon rose in the sky like a wound in the night. Its crimson light seeped through the cracks of the Hollow, bathing the cavern in red shadows. Aria stood at the edge of the stream, claws flexed, pulse thrumming in time with the mark on her neck. She could feel the moon's power calling to her—pulling, demanding, intoxicating.
Lucian watched her from across the water, eyes gold and unreadable. His chest rose and fell slowly, almost deliberately. Every movement, every muscle in his body radiated control and power. He had survived centuries of the hunt, yet tonight, he seemed as tense as she felt.
"You're ready," he said, voice low, almost a growl.
"I… I don't know if I am," she admitted, feeling the raw pulse of the mark. It was stronger than ever, coursing through her veins like molten fire. Her claws ached, her senses screamed, and somewhere deep in her chest, the beast within demanded release.
Lucian stepped closer. "Do you want to control it, or do you want it to control you?"
Her jaw tightened. "I want to control it."
He nodded, as though that answered some unspoken question. Then he leaned in, brushing a finger along the mark. The silver light pulsed beneath his touch. "Then we begin. You will feed tonight. Not on prey you hunt, not on the forest—but on me. Only this way will the bond strengthen, and only this way will the mark stop consuming you."
Aria swallowed hard. Fear, desire, and instinct warred inside her. She had tasted his presence, his blood in the Hollow before, but never like this. The Hunger—the thing that lived inside her now—roared, demanding release.
She nodded, and Lucian tilted his head, exposing the pulse at his neck. The scent of blood hit her full force—metallic, warm, alive. Her claws flexed, instincts flaring, heart hammering.
Her teeth grazed his skin, a flicker of silver light pulsing in tandem with her heartbeat. He inhaled sharply but did not pull away. "Good," he whispered. "Give in to it, but remain yourself. Remember—control is everything."
Aria bit gently, then tasted. The sensation was electric, wild, intoxicating. The mark burned, her senses exploded, and the Hollow itself seemed to pulse with her power. Silver light raced through her veins as if the moon itself had entered her body.
She pulled back, gasping, eyes wide. Lucian's fingers grazed her jaw, gentle but firm. "You did well. Now remember this feeling. The first kill is always… the hardest. Tonight, it will be your first test outside the Hollow."
Her stomach tightened. "Outside? You mean… in the world?"
He nodded. "A pack of rogues is moving through the forest. They've been hunting us since the Hollow fight. They won't stop until they find you—or until they die. Tonight, you will learn what it means to survive as marked. And tonight… you will kill."
The words sent a thrill through her chest. Fear mixed with desire, with power, with a thrill she could not name. She wanted it, even as her humanity screamed no.
Lucian led her through the cavern's exit, the night cold and sharp against their skin. The forest around them was alive—senses flaring, prey and predator intermingled. The rogues' scent was thick in the air: musk, corruption, anger. Her mark pulsed, urging her forward, demanding she embrace it fully.
"Focus," Lucian murmured. "You're not hunting them as prey—they're threats. Protect yourself. Protect me. Protect the bond."
Aria nodded, muscles coiling, senses stretching. Her eyes adjusted to the crimson light filtering through the blood moon. Shapes moved in the shadows—four figures, larger than any human, with eyes faintly glowing amber. The rogues.
Her claws extended, teeth bared, every nerve alive. She could hear the heartbeat of the forest, the flow of water, the wind whipping through leaves. She could feel Lucian beside her, his presence a tether grounding her even as the Hunger screamed inside her.
They attacked simultaneously. Lucian's roar split the night, a sound that made the rogues hesitate. In that instant, Aria lunged. The first rogue met her claws, and instinct guided her. The blow was precise, fast, efficient. She felt the snap of bone, the rush of power, and then a flood of sensation—the first kill.
Her stomach twisted, body trembling, but the mark pulsed, silver light flaring brighter. She had survived. She had struck. She had controlled the Hunger.
Lucian moved like a shadow beside her, tearing through the others with brutal efficiency. He caught her gaze once, golden eyes glowing in the red moonlight. "You're ready," he said, voice low, almost a growl. "But remember—this is only the beginning. The Blood Moon rises fully in three nights. By then, your power and mine will be tested like never before."
Aria swallowed, tasting the adrenaline and something else—something darker and more intoxicating. Her claws retracted slowly, and she turned to face the last rogue, lying still beneath the blood-red light. Her pulse raced, breath uneven, body humming with the raw electricity of life and death.
Lucian placed a hand on her shoulder. "Tonight, you survived. You fed. You killed. You embraced the mark without losing yourself. That's all anyone could ever ask."
Her heart still thundered, but she felt… alive. Complete. And somewhere, beneath it all, a dangerous thrill pulsed: the knowledge that this bond—the mark, the Hunger, the Blood Moon—would only grow stronger. That the next fight would test them beyond anything she had ever imagined.
Aria looked up at the Blood Moon, crimson and unforgiving, and she felt it in her bones. The Hollow had changed her. The mark had tied her to Lucian, to power, to survival—and the first kill had proven something terrifyingly beautiful: she was no longer human, but something greater. Something dangerous.
And she would not go back.