Page 31 of Moonlit Fate

She looked up at me, her eyes glimmering with unshed tears. A silent plea for understanding or perhaps forgiveness, for a gift she never asked for. “I’m scared. This kind of power, gift—whatever it is—it’s not allowed. It’s forbidden. If anyone finds out, I could be exiled from the pack.”

I took Seren’s hand in mine. “I won’t let that happen.” The underlying current of my commitment pulsed silently between us. “Your secret is safe with me.”

We returned to our research, the aged texts before us whispering secrets of a time long past. Our fingers delicately touched the leather and parchment as we searched through the knowledge they held, hoping to find answers.

“Listen,” I said, breaking the heavy silence that had hung too long, “Ilaric might be able to help. He’s been there for me before in certain… unusual situations. Apart from Ilaric, I haven’t told this to anyone, but you aren’t alone, Seren. I don’t see spirits, but I can manipulate water.”

Her reaction was immediate, a flash of shock in her face that mirrored my own trepidation. It was one thing to share the burden of her newfound ability, another entirely to reveal my own.

“I don’t want it getting out,” she said quickly. “You know how the pack is about stuff like this.”

Seren’s refusal to seek Ilaric’s counsel didn’t surprise me. The stubborn set of her shoulders, the way she crossed her arms around herself defensively, was so much like the way I’d carried myself before Ilaric helped me. But the seconds stretched out, each tick of the clock seeming more hesitant than the last until she relented, if only slightly.

“Maybe,” she said. “I just... why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

In a world where our kind were already deemed other, additional powers were labeled an aberration, a deviation to be feared. And here I was, future alpha of the Silver Claw pack, harboring the very thing that could unravel my birthright. The irony wasn’t lost on me, nor was the danger.

“Because I’ve known for years.” The secret and lies were suddenly oppressive. “And every day, the terror of it slipping out grips me tighter than any enemy’s claws ever could.”

She nodded once in understanding. We turned back to our task again. Every page turned was a step closer to unraveling the tangled web of fate.

I was on the verge of giving up and calling it a day when I turned the page. It felt alive, pulsating with every word I consumed, and the hair on the back of my neck stood on end.

“Seren,” I called out softly, almost in disbelief. “Seren! I think I’ve found something.”

With careful attention, I read the words in front of me. Words of the past, of a future foretold.

“Under the eclipse moon, two souls shall arise.”

The magnitude of the prophecy started to really sink in. This wasn’t gossip or rumor. This was real, this was happening, and I appeared to be at the heart of it, along with Atticus.

“Under the eclipse moon.” It wasn’t just any night they spoke of, but one our kind held in high regard, one of legend and mystical energy, as the celestial event unfolded. And we, two souls touched by fate and hidden magic, couldn’t ignore the call.

“Could this be about...?” Seren, now reading over my shoulder, didn’t finish her sentence. She didn’t need to. We both knew.

“Maybe.” It was a confirmation and a question all at once, a tentative step into the unknown.

Under the eclipse moon, two souls shall arise.

With marks of the ancient crescent, a bond none can disguise.

One from the shadows, the other of alpha blood,

Together, they hold the power to calm the raging flood.

But beware, for their union shall bring forth either salvation or doom,

A balance of power, or an all-consuming gloom.

“An ancient crescent...” Her brow creased in concentration. “Your birthmark?”

I nodded, unable to form the words as the truth of it settled. The mark I bore was more than just a fluke of birth. It was a harbinger of a future written in the past, with the potential to unravel the threads of power.

“This rogue, Atticus,” Seren added. “He’s the phantom the elders speak about, isn’t he? Theone from the shadows?”

I could only nod again. Atticus, with his enchanting ice-blue eyes and enigmatic presence, truly exemplified the description. He had the remarkable talent of manipulating shadows, and his touch had awakened sensations in my body that defied logic.

“Then there’s you.” Her hand gently touched my arm as she read the line. “The other of alpha blood.”

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