Chapter 1
The rain had been falling for hours, a steady, rhythmic drumming against the windows of Selene Hart's apartment. The sky outside was thick with clouds that refused to break. She sat curled in the corner of her velvet armchair, a half-read book resting on her lap, untouched for the past twenty minutes. Her thoughts were elsewhere, tangled in the letter that had arrived that morning.
It wasn't a normal letter. No return address. No postage stamp. Just a black envelope, sealed with crimson wax, pressed with an unfamiliar crest: a wolf's head surrounded by thorns. The handwriting was elegant, almost archaic, and it bore her name in looping silver ink.
Selene Hart.
She had stared at it for a long time before opening it. Something about the envelope felt… alive. As if it pulsed faintly in her hand. Inside was a single sheet of parchment, thick and textured, with a message that read:
Miss Hart,
You are cordially invited to Blackthorne Manor to discuss a matter of great importance. Your presence is requested at midnight, under the full moon.
Transportation will be provided.
D.B.
No signature beyond initials. No explanation. Just a time, a place, and a promise of transportation.
Selene had considered ignoring it. She wasn't in the habit of accepting mysterious invitations from strangers, especially not ones that arrived without explanation. But something about the letter tugged at her. A whisper in her blood. A pull she couldn't name.
And so, at 11:30, she stood at the curb outside her building, dressed in a black coat and boots, her long dark hair braided down her back. The city was quiet, the streets slick with rain. A black car pulled up sleek, silent, and clearly expensive. The driver stepped out without a word, opened the door, and gestured for her to enter.
She hesitated only briefly before sliding into the leather seat.
The ride was long. Longer than she expected. They left the city behind, winding through forested roads that grew darker with each passing mile. The trees pressed close, their branches clawing at the sky. Mist curled along the ground, and the moon, full and silver, hung low above the horizon.
Selene felt the tension in her chest grow; something about the night felt… wrong. Or perhaps too right. Like the world was holding its breath.
At last, the car turned onto a gravel path, flanked by a shaped iron gate that creaked open as they approached. Beyond them stood Blackthorne Manor, a sprawling estate of stone and shadow, its towers reaching into the sky like claws. The windows glowed faintly, golden against the dark.
The car stopped. The driver opened her door again, and Selene stepped out into the cold.
The air smelled of pine and rain. And something else, something wild.
She walked slowly toward the entrance, her boots crunching on the gravel. The massive oak doors opened before she could knock, revealing a grand foyer lit by flickering candlelight. The walls were lined with portraits of stern men and beautiful women, all with eyes that seemed to follow her.
A man stood at the base of the staircase.
Tall. Broad-shouldered. Dressed in a black suit that fit him like a second skin. His hair was dark, swept back from a strong brow. His eyes, golden and glowing, locked onto hers with a force that stole her breath.
"Miss Hart," he said, his voice low and smooth. "Welcome to Blackthorne Manor."
She swallowed. "You must be Damien Blackthorne."
He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Indeed."
He stepped forward, and she felt the air shift around him. Power. It radiated from him like heat. Not just wealth, though, that was obvious, but something older. Something primal.
"I appreciate you coming," he said. "I know the invitation was… unconventional."
"That's one word for it," she said, trying to keep her voice steady.
He studied her for a moment, then turned. "Come. There's much to discuss."
She followed him through the manor, past velvet curtains and marble statues, down hallways that seemed to stretch forever. The place was beautiful, in a haunting way. Gothic and grand, with shadows that whispered secrets.
They entered a study warm, with a fire crackling in the hearth. Books lined the walls, and a bottle of Domaine de la Romanee-Conti Grand Cru 1945 sat on a nearby table.
Damien poured two glasses and handed one to her.
"To new beginnings," he said.
She took the glass but didn't drink. "What exactly am I beginning?"
He sat across from her, his gaze never wavering. "A partnership. One that could save your family's legacy."
Her heart skipped. "You know about Hart & Vale?"
"I know it's on the brink of collapse. I know your father's debts are mounting. And I know you've been trying to hold it together."
She stiffened. "How?"
"I have resources," he said simply. "And I have an offer."
She waited.
"I'll pay off the debts. Restore the company. Give you full control."
Her eyes narrowed. "And what do you want in return?"
He leaned forward, and the firelight caught the gold in his eyes.
"You."
The word hung in the air like smoke.
Selene's breath caught. "Excuse me?"
"I want you to stay here. With me. As my bride."
She stood abruptly. "This is insane."
He didn't move. "It's destiny."
She backed away. "You don't even know me."
"I know enough," he said. "I know you're mine."
The room seemed to darken. The fire flared. And for a moment, she saw something in him, something not human. A flicker of fur. A flash of fangs.
She turned to leave.
"Selene," he said, and her name was a command.
She froze.
"You feel it too," he said. "The pull. The bond. You've felt it since you arrived."
She didn't answer.
"I'm not asking for your answer tonight," he said. "But the offer stands. Stay. Learn the truth. And decide."
She turned slowly. "What truth?"
He stood, walked to the window, and looked out at the moon.
"The truth of who you are. And who I am."
She followed his gaze. The moon was full. Bright. And somewhere in the distance, a howl echoed through the trees.
Her blood turned to ice.
Damien turned back to her, his eyes glowing.
"You're not just a woman, Selene. You're a wolf. And you were born to be mine."
Selene's heart pounded in her chest. The firelight flickered across Damien's face, casting shadows that made him look almost inhuman. His words echoed in her mind. You're a wolf. And you were born to be mine.
She wanted to laugh. To call him insane. But the truth was, she couldn't. Because somewhere deep inside her, something stirred. Something ancient. Something wild.
"I'm not a wolf," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
Damien stepped closer. "Not yet. But you will be."
She backed away, her fingers tightening around the glass she still held. "This is madness."
He tilted his head, studying her. "Have you never wondered why you feel different? Why are your senses sharper than others? Why the moon makes your blood sing?"
She opened her mouth to protest, but the words wouldn't come. Because he was right. She had felt those things. For years. She had just buried them. Ignored them. Pretended they weren't real.
Damien reached into his jacket and pulled out a small velvet box. He opened it, revealing a silver pendant shaped like a crescent moon, etched with runes she didn't recognize.
"This belonged to your mother," he said.
Selene froze. "My mother died when I was a baby."
"She was one of us," Damien said. "She was part of the Moonborn, the sacred bloodline. She gave her life to protect you."
Selene's knees buckled, and she sank into the nearest chair. Her mind was spinning. Her mother. The Moonborn. A bloodline she'd never heard of.
Damien placed the pendant in her hand. It was warm. Pulsing. As if it recognized her.
"I don't understand," she whispered.
"You will," he said. "But you must stay. Let me show you."
She looked up at him, and for the first time, she saw something in his eyes that wasn't power or dominance. It was pain. Deep and old. The kind that came from centuries of loneliness.
"Why me?" she asked.
"Because you're the only one who can break the curse," he said. "The only one who can save me."
Selene stared at the pendant. Her world was unraveling. Everything she thought she knew was being rewritten.
"I need time," she said.
Damien nodded. "You'll have it. But know this, the blood moon rises in three nights. If you're not claimed by then, the curse will consume me."
She stood slowly, her legs trembling. "I'll think about it."
He stepped aside, allowing her to pass. "Your room is prepared. Stay the night. Leave if you wish in the morning."
Selene hesitated, then walked past him, the pendant clutched tightly in her hand.
As she climbed the grand staircase, she felt the weight of destiny pressing down on her. The manor seemed to breathe around her, its walls whispering secrets.
She reached the guest room, a lavish space with velvet drapes, a four-poster bed, and a balcony overlooking the forest. She stepped outside, the cold air biting her skin.
The moon hung high above, full and glowing. And in the distance, she heard another howl, low and mournful.
She closed her eyes.
Something inside her howled back.
Selene stood on the balcony, the pendant still warm in her hand. The forest below was cloaked in mist, the trees swaying gently in the wind. The moon hung heavy in the sky, casting a silver glow over everything. Somewhere in the distance, another howl echoed low, mournful, and ancient.
She pressed the pendant to her chest, feeling its pulse match her own heartbeat. Her thoughts were a storm. Damien's words, the manor, the invitation, all of it felt like a dream she couldn't wake from.
She turned back into the room, closing the balcony doors behind her. The guest room was luxurious, but it felt like a cage. Velvet curtains. Silk sheets. A fire crackles in the hearth. Everything was too perfect. Too intentional.
She walked to the mirror above the fireplace and stared at her reflection. Her dark eyes looked haunted. Her skin is pale. Her lips parted slightly, as if she were about to speak, but no words came.
Who was she?
She had spent her life trying to be normal. To fit in. To run her family's failing business. To ignore the strange dreams, the heightened senses, the way her body reacted to the moon. She had buried it all and locked it away.
But now, the lock was breaking.
A knock at the door startled her.
She turned. "Yes?"
The door opened slowly, and a woman stepped inside. Tall, elegant, with silver hair braided down her back. Her eyes were pale blue, almost translucent.
"I'm Isolde," she said. "Damien's housekeeper. I've prepared a bath for you."
Selene nodded, unsure what to say.
Isolde led her to a marble bathroom, where steam rose from a claw-foot tub filled with lavender-scented water. Candles flickered on the windowsill.
"Rest," Isolde said softly. "You'll need your strength."
Selene stepped into the bath, the heat soothing her tense muscles. She sank beneath the water, letting it wash over her. But her mind refused to quiet.
She saw her mother's face, the only photo she had—dark hair. Gentle eyes. A smile that held secrets.
Was she really one of them? A Moonborn?
Selene closed her eyes and let the water embrace her. But even in the silence, she felt the pull—the bond. Damien's presence was like a thread woven into her soul.
She didn't know what tomorrow would bring. But she knew one thing:
She was no longer who she thought she was.
And Damien Blackthorne was no ordinary man.
The bath had left Selene's body warm, but her mind was restless. She lay on the four‑poster bed, staring at the velvet canopy above her. The pendant rested on the nightstand, glowing faintly in the firelight as if it breathed. Every time she closed her eyes, she felt it calling to her, pulling at something buried deep inside.
The manor was too quiet. No creaking floors, no distant footsteps. Just silence heavy, suffocating silence. Yet she couldn't shake the feeling that she was being watched. The portraits in the hallway had followed her with their eyes, and even now, she swore she felt Damien's gaze lingering, though he was nowhere near.
She turned onto her side, clutching the sheets. Her thoughts spiraled back to his words: You're not just a woman, Selene. You're a wolf.
It was absurd. Impossible. And yet… she remembered the nights she had woken drenched in sweat, her body trembling under the full moon. She remembered the way her senses sharpened when danger was near, how she could hear whispers across a crowded room, smell rain before it fell. She had always dismissed it as imagination. But what if it wasn't?
A sudden sound broke her thoughts, a low, guttural growl, carried on the wind. She sat up, heart racing. It wasn't far. It came from the forest beyond the balcony. She rushed to the doors, flung them open, and stepped into the cold night.
The moon was enormous, bathing the forest in silver light. Mist curled along the ground, and in the distance, a shadow moved. A massive, black wolf at midnight, its eyes glowing red. It stood at the edge of the trees, watching her. Waiting.
Selene's breath caught. She should have been terrified, but instead, her pulse quickened with something else recognition. The wolf tilted its head, and for a moment, she felt as though it knew her. As though it had always known her.
"Selene."
The voice was behind her. Smooth, commanding. Damien.
She turned, and there he was, standing in the doorway of her room, his suit discarded, his shirt unbuttoned at the collar. His golden eyes glowed faintly in the moonlight.
"You shouldn't be out here," he said, stepping toward her. "The forest is dangerous tonight."
She gestured toward the wolf. "That… thing. It was watching me."
Damien's gaze flicked to the trees, then back to her. "It's one of mine. A guardian. It won't harm you."
"One of yours?" she whispered. "You mean"
"Yes," he said, his voice low. "A wolf. Like me."
Her stomach twisted. "You're insane."
He closed the distance between them, his presence overwhelming. "Am I? Or have you always known the truth, but been too afraid to face it?"
She backed against the railing, the cold iron pressing into her spine. "I don't want this."
"But you need it," he said, his hand brushing her arm. "You feel it, don't you? The bond. The hunger. The way your blood sings under the moon."
Her body betrayed her. Heat surged through her veins, her breath quickening. She hated it. Hated that he was right. Hated that she wanted to believe him.
"Stop," she whispered.
Damien's eyes softened, just for a moment. "I can't. Not when you're here. Not when fate has finally brought you to me."
The wolf in the forest howled, the sound echoing through the night. Selene's heart pounded in rhythm with it, her body trembling. She felt something inside her stir, a shadow, a beast, clawing to be free.
Damien leaned closer, his breath warm against her ear. "You are mine, Selene. Whether you accept it now or later, the moon will claim you. And when it does, you'll understand."
She closed her eyes, torn between fear and desire. The night pressed in around them, heavy with secrets. And for the first time in her life, Selene realized she was standing on the edge of a world she had never known, a world of wolves, blood, and forbidden love.