(Rosa's POV)
The echoes of the scream still lived in Rosa's bones. The air in Lunar had changed—thicker, alive, as though the walls themselves remembered what had just happened. Every sound seemed too sharp, every shadow too deep. Her pulse refused to slow, each heartbeat loud enough that she thought it might betray her fear. Marshal walked ahead, his long strides measured and precise, the air shifting subtly around him as if the world itself deferred to his will.
"Stay close," he whispered without turning his head.
Rosa obeyed, her instincts overriding reason. The corridor they entered wound like a vein beneath the city, lit by flickering gold sconces that pulsed faintly, almost breathing. Her fingers brushed the wall, feeling warmth beneath the stone, as though the building itself was alive.
"What is this place?" she asked softly.
"A sanctuary," Marshal replied. His voice carried an undertone she couldn't name—part reverence, part warning. "And a prison, depending on who you ask."
The deeper they went, the more the rhythm beneath Rosa's skin matched the faint hum of the walls. A strange energy flowed through her, a pulse that was not entirely her own. She flexed her hand and caught the faintest shimmer under her skin—silver, like moonlight caught in her veins.
Marshal's head jerked in her direction. "You feel it now, don't you?
"Feel what?" she whispered.
"The mark."
Rosa scowled, though his eyes revealed nothing. "You're not making sense, Marshal."
His lips curved slightly, not in amusement but in knowing. "You will understand soon enough."
They entered a chamber bathed in soft amber light. The air smelled of old incense and rain-soaked earth. Three figures stood in the center—elders, their presence commanding but not loud. Their gazes followed Rosa as she stepped into the room, eyes gleaming with something more than curiosity.
"She's the one," one of them quietly said, his voice deep and worn with centuries.
The words hit her like a physical touch. "The one what?"
Marshal placed a steadying hand at her back. "Easy."
The heat from his palm burned through the thin fabric of her blouse, grounding her in a way that made her knees weak. Rosa wanted to step away, to demand answers, but something in his tone made her still. The elder with silver streaks in his hair stepped closer, eyes narrowing as he studied her.
"The blood hums in her," he said. "Stronger than any we have seen since—"
"Enough," Marshal interrupted, his tone sharp but controlled. "She's not ready for that truth."
Rosa's voice shook as she spoke. "Ready for what? What's happening to me?"
Silence stretched too long. Then Marshal turned to her, his expression unreadable. "You're changing, Rosa. The moon has chosen you."
She laughed-too high, too uncertain. "That's preposterous."
"Is it?" one of the elders asked, eyes gleaming like molten silver. "Look at your hands."
Rosa glanced down. The shimmer she had noticed earlier was no longer faint. Silver light threaded through her veins, pulsing in rhythm with her heartbeat. She stumbled back, her breath catching.
"No. That's not real."
Marshal stepped closer, his presence steady, commanding. "It is real. You stepped into our world, and now it has answered you."
She shook her head. "I didn't ask for this."
His eyes met hers, shining with silent intensity. "Neither did I."
The weight in his voice struck her deeper than the words. There was pain there—old and buried—but unmistakable.
Before she could speak, movement in the shadows caught her eye. A shape detached itself from the darkness beyond the doorway, moving with inhuman fluidity. A low growl rumbled through the air.
Instantly, Marshal's voice hardened. "Get behind me."
Rosa did, though her body trembled. The intruder stepped into the light—a man with pale eyes and a cruel smile. His presence filled the space like poison, the air thickening around him.
"So this is her," he said quietly. "The moon's new favorite."
"Leave," Marshal warned.
The man laughed, low and mocking. "You cannot hide her, Wolfe. The mark has already been seen."
Rosa's heart pounded as Marshal's body shifted slightly, his stance widening. "You're not walking out of here alive."
"I don't need to," the man hissed. "I only needed to see her for myself."
And then he moved.
The attack was a blur—motion faster than sight. Rosa barely registered the sound before Marshal was gone from her side, intercepting the strike midair. The impact shook the chamber. The fight unfolded with brutal beauty: claws against flesh, light against shadow. Marshal fought like something beyond human—controlled, graceful, lethal. Each movement was a balance between precision and rage, violence and restraint.
The elders stood firm, their expressions grim, while pack members emerged from hidden alcoves, circling like silent sentinels.
Rosa pressed herself against the wall, trying to breathe, her eyes locked on Marshal. He wasn't just defending her; he was fighting with purpose that went deeper than duty.
When the final blow came, it was decisive. The intruder fell, his body flickering with a strange light before dissolving into smoke that vanished into the cracks of the stone floor.
Silence ensued.
Marshal stood breathing hard, blood streaked across his jaw, his chest rising and falling in measured rhythm. He turned toward her, eyes darker than before, haunted yet alive.
"You're safe," he said softly.
Her voice came out as a whisper, "You killed him."
"He would have killed you."
She stepped closer, drawn by something she couldn't control. "Why do I feel this way?"
Marshal hesitated, his gaze dropping to where the faint silver light still shimmered beneath her skin. "Because you were never just human."
The words hit harder than the battle had. "You're lying."
He shook his head. "You came here for truth, Rosa. You found it."
Her breath trembled. "You think I'm like you?"
His hand lifted, brushing her cheek - gently, reverently. "Not like me. More."
The contact burned—soft, electric, intimate. Their eyes locked, and for one suspended heartbeat, the world fell away. Rosa felt the pull again, stronger than before, deep and inevitable.
"Marshal…" she whispered.
He leaned closer, his voice barely audible. "If you stay, there is no going back."
"I don't think I can leave."
His lips arced in a faint, sad smile. "That's what I'm afraid of."
The air shifted again. A new sound rose—a low growl from beyond the walls, followed by the heavy thud of something massive moving in the tunnels. The elders turned sharply, exchanging silent looks of dread.
Marshal's face hardened. "They found us."
Rosa swallowed hard. "Who did?"
Before he could answer, the chamber door splintered open, and a cold wind rushed through, carrying the scent of blood and night.
Marshal stepped in front of her, his voice low and lethal. "Stay behind me, Rosa. No matter what happens."
She gripped his arm, fear clawing up her throat. "Marshal, what's coming?"
He glanced back at her; his eyes gleamed like molten silver in the flickering light.
"The ones who don't serve the moon," he replied. "They serve the darkness."
A shadow shifted in the doorway, taller than a man, its eyes burning like coals. Rosa's breath caught as the shimmer beneath her skin flared to life, answering the threat before her mind could. And in that heartbeat, she knew-whatever she had become, it had only just begun.
To be continued…