🩸 Crimson Moon Oath
A Fantasy Romance by Chizzy
Chapter Twelve – Between Fire and Shadow
Dawn broke like spilled gold over the ruins of Elarion. The Crimson Moon had retreated, leaving the sky faintly bruised, as if the heavens themselves still remembered its curse.
Avaline stood on the balcony of the abandoned tower they had claimed for the night. Below her, the city slept in uneasy silence, the mist curling around shattered rooftops. Her fingers traced the ancient markings carved into the stone — symbols that glowed faintly beneath her touch.
She didn't know what they meant. But they felt alive, pulsing in rhythm with her heartbeat.
Behind her, the sound of footsteps made her turn. Kael stepped into the light, his dark hair tousled, his eyes the color of dying embers. Even in daylight, he looked carved from shadow.
"You didn't rest," he said quietly.
Avaline shook her head. "Couldn't. Every time I close my eyes, I see her. The queen. Her warning."
He moved closer, resting his hands on the stone beside hers. "Selara was trapped by what she loved. She couldn't see past the rules she made for herself."
She met his gaze. "And what if I'm just like her?"
Kael's lips curved, though not in amusement. "You're nothing like her. She was a queen born of magic. You're a girl who survived the world's cruelty and still found the courage to care."
The sincerity in his voice struck her harder than any prophecy. For a heartbeat, she forgot the curse, the danger, everything. The distance between them shrank — one breath, one heartbeat, one impossible choice.
But before their lips could meet, the air shifted.
A low growl cut through the silence.
Lycian stood in the doorway, the light behind him casting his silhouette in gold and flame. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes — those wild, molten eyes — betrayed everything.
"Morning," he said, voice rough with sleep and emotion. "Or should I say, interesting timing?"
Kael stepped back instantly, his usual composure returning like armor. "You should learn to knock."
Lycian smirked. "You should learn not to hide."
Avaline exhaled softly. "Stop it, both of you. We can't afford this."
Lycian's gaze softened when it fell on her. "Then tell me what we can afford, Avaline. Because right now, every path looks like a grave."
She turned back toward the horizon, her voice quiet but firm. "I'm going to find a way to rewrite the oath. Selara said love was the key — so maybe love isn't the curse. Maybe it's the weapon."
Kael frowned. "You'd risk everything on a feeling?"
Avaline nodded. "It's not just a feeling. It's what the curse feeds on. That means it's also what can destroy it."
Lycian crossed his arms. "And how do you plan to fight a curse that lives inside you?"
"I don't fight it," she said, her voice trembling but steady. "I change it."
The silence that followed was thick with disbelief and something else — hope.
Kael's voice was low, reluctant. "To rewrite a blood oath, you'd need a conduit strong enough to hold the power of two worlds."
Avaline turned toward him. "Then we use both — vampire and wolf. Light and shadow."
Lycian gave a dry laugh. "You're suggesting we bind ourselves to the same curse we're trying to break?"
"Yes," Avaline whispered. "Because maybe it takes all three of us to undo what one queen began."
For a long moment, no one spoke. Then Kael said quietly, "If you do this, there's no going back."
"I already can't go back," she said. "None of us can."
The sun rose higher, washing the ruins in light. Somewhere deep within, the ancient runes began to hum, faint but growing louder — as if the world itself was listening.
That night, they prepared.
Kael gathered bloodstones from the remains of the queen's vault — shards that shimmered with captured moonlight. Lycian hunted through the forest for wild herbs and lunar roots, materials used in old rituals of balance.
Avaline studied the inscriptions that lined the royal chamber walls, her fingertips brushing the faded words of the oath. Every line seemed to breathe beneath her touch, like a heart buried under centuries of dust.
When darkness fell again, they stood in the center of the ruined throne room, encircled by silver and crimson light.
Kael's expression was grave. "Once the circle closes, the curse will react. It'll try to tear itself free."
Lycian smirked. "Then let it try. I've fought worse than fate."
Avaline looked between them. "No matter what happens, don't let go. If the bond breaks, it all ends."
They nodded.
As she began the chant, the air thickened. The bloodstones glowed, threads of light weaving between the three of them. Magic surged through the hall — ancient, wild, and terrifyingly alive.
Avaline's heart pounded. She felt Kael's stillness, cold and steady, on one side… and Lycian's fire, wild and protective, on the other. The forces collided within her, light and dark twisting together, consuming everything.
Then the floor trembled.
A voice — Selara's voice — echoed through the chamber once more. You cannot change what was bound by sacrifice.
Avaline's voice cracked. "Then I'll create my own sacrifice!"
She poured her power into the circle, feeling it burn through her veins. Pain exploded behind her eyes. Kael reached for her, but the magic flung him back. Lycian roared, shifting halfway, his claws tearing through the floor to anchor her to the earth.
The light reached a blinding crescendo — then shattered.
Avaline fell to her knees, gasping. The hall went silent.
Kael crawled toward her, his hand trembling as he touched her cheek. "Avaline…?"
Her eyes fluttered open, glowing faintly with twin colors — one red, one silver.
"I didn't break the curse," she whispered. "I changed it."
Lycian frowned. "Changed it how?"
She looked between them, her expression haunted and serene all at once. "Now, the moon won't choose for me. It will wait until I decide."
Outside, the Crimson Moon rose again, but softer now — its light no longer hungry, only watchful.
And for the first time in centuries, Elarion's cursed air carried something new.
Hope.
To be continued ...