Morning drifted softly over Bloomfield Pack, but the warmth that usually came with dawn felt muted.
A gray haze hung low above the trees, muffling the usual sounds of laughter and howls. The air was heavy, thick with something unspoken.
Serena moved through the village square with a basket of herbs balanced on her arm, greeting the wolves who crossed her path.
They smiled back, but there was a stiffness in their eyes she couldn't quite place.
Yesterday, they had laughed with her beneath the moon. Today, they avoided her gaze.
She set the basket down by the infirmary steps, trying to shake off the unease.
"Morning," she greeted softly. No one answered. A few wolves exchanged glances before disappearing into their cabins.
From the training yard, the sound of clashing swords broke the silence.
Serena turned just in time to see Aria sparring with two younger warriors, her movements sharp and precise.
Sweat glistened on her brow, the controlled fury behind every strike impossible to miss.
When Aria's eyes met Serena's, her expression softened instantly into a pleasant smile.
"Luna," she called, lowering her sword. "You're up early."
"I couldn't sleep," Serena replied, returning the smile even though her chest felt tight. "You're training hard this morning."
"Routine keeps the pack sharp," Aria said easily, wiping her blade. "Especially with tension running so high lately."
Serena frowned. "Tension?"
Aria tilted her head, as though hesitant to continue. "It's probably nothing. You know how talk spreads." She lowered her voice, glancing toward the nearby warriors.
"Some of the pack are uneasy. They say the celebration last night stirred bad luck. That maybe your bloodline ..."
"My bloodline again," Serena cut in quietly.
Aria's face softened with practiced sympathy. "I don't believe it, of course. But some wolves fear what they don't understand. Maybe if you spoke to them, it would ease their minds…
Serena nodded, though her stomach twisted. "Thank you, Aria. I'll think about it."
As she turned to leave, Aria's smile lingered—a small, knowing curve that never reached her eyes.
By midday, Kol could sense the unease too. The patrols reported fewer smiles and more whispers.
When he entered the council lodge, the elders stood waiting with grim expressions.
"Alpha," Elder Rowan began, "we've noticed a change in the pack. Many are questioning the Luna's origins."
Kol's jaw tightened. "Her origins have never been a secret. Serena is my mate, chosen by the moon itself."
"That may be," Rowan said carefully, "but wolves are afraid of what they cannot explain. The curse that follows her family.
"There is no curse," Kol snapped, his voice cutting through the room.
The elders flinched, and the Beta—Calen, loyal and level-headed stepped forward to ease the tension.
"Alpha," Calen said calmly, "no one doubts your authority. But fear breeds faster than reason. If we don't address it, it could divide the pack."
Kol drew a slow breath, forcing his anger down. "Then I'll speak to them tonight. Make it clear that anyone spreading lies will answer to me."
The elders nodded but avoided his gaze as they left. Calen lingered. "She's strong, Kol. But you should talk to her. She's feeling the weight of this too."
Kol ran a hand through his hair. "I know. I just don't want her to think she's the problem."
When he found Serena later that evening, she was sitting by the window of their chamber, staring out at the fading light.
Her hands were still stained green from sorting herbs, but she didn't seem to notice.
"Rough day?" he asked gently, crouching beside her.
She smiled faintly. "Just tired. I keep hearing the same whispers. I thought they'd stop after the Gathering."
Kol reached for her hand. "They will. I'll handle it."
"You shouldn't have to." She looked at him then, eyes filled with quiet worry. "It's my fault the pack feels divided."
He shook his head. "Don't say that. You've done nothing wrong."
Serena wanted to believe him. She wanted to believe that love was enough to silence fear, but even love had its limits in a world ruled by instinct.
When Kol left to meet the night patrol, she lingered by the window, watching the forest sway under the wind. Somewhere out there, a lone wolf howled, the sound long and broken.
Meanwhile in the training grounds, Aria moved among a small circle of warriors, her tone soft, almost comforting.
"I only worry about the pack," she said, stirring their unease with well-placed concern. "If the curse is real, we must be ready. We can't afford to lose another generation to blind faith."
A young wolf frowned. "You're saying the Alpha's wrong to trust her?"
Aria lowered her gaze, pretending guilt. "I'd never say that. Kol's wisdom is beyond question. I just hope his heart isn't clouding his judgment."
The comment settled like poison in the air. By the time the conversation ended, two more wolves were questioning Serena's right to be Luna.
Aria walked away satisfied, her mind already turning toward what would come next.
That night, Serena dreamed.
She stood in the heart of the woods beneath a blood-red moon.
The air reeked of smoke and iron, heavy with the stench of blood and sweat. All around her, wolves circled, their faces once familiar, now twisted into grotesque masks of fury.
Their eyes burned with an otherworldly light, glowing silver in the dark, their growls rumbling low and hungry, like thunder before a storm.
She tried to run, but the earth shifted under her feet, becoming ash. From the shadows, a whisper slid into her ears, soft and ancient and unmistakably female.
"Beware the heart that envies, child of the moon. Betrayal sleeps beside you."
Serena spun around, searching for the voice, but the forest dissolved into mist. Then she saw it: a pair of golden eyes watching her through the fog, familiar and filled with hatred.
She gasped awake.
Her heart pounded as she stared into the darkness of the room. The fire had burned low, and Kol slept beside her, his arm draped over her waist.
Everything looked normal, yet her skin prickled with the memory of those eyes.
Slowly, she eased out of bed and went to the window.
The night was silent except for the rustle of wind through the trees. But somewhere beyond the clearing, she thought she saw movement, a shadow that vanished as soon as she blinked.
"Just a dream," she whispered to herself. "Just a dream."
Still, when she lay back down, she didn't sleep. The whisper from her dream echoed in her head, chilling and impossible to forget.
By dawn, Bloomfield Pack seemed peaceful again, the previous day's tension buried under routine.
But beneath the calm surface, the whispers still spread, winding their way through the pack like roots searching for weakness.
And at the center of it all stood Aria, smiling, patiently waiting for the moment her loyalty would no longer have to be an act.