The world was silent, save for the wind.
Celine stood on the stone balcony of her ancestral estate, silver hair unbound, rippling in the breeze. Her crimson eyes reflected the sky, now stained blood-red by the moon that should not have risen. The Blood Moon.
It hadn't been predicted. No priest, no astronomer had spoken of it.
And yet it hung there—heavy, ancient, watching.
Her breath was shallow, each inhale scraping her lungs. Her fingers trembled against the railing, nails digging into the cold stone. The pulse beneath her skin had returned, no longer a flicker but a storm. It raced through her veins like wildfire.
Then it hit.
Pain. Searing. Blinding.
Her knees buckled as a scream tore from her lips.
She collapsed, clutching her chest. Her skin felt aflame, her bones vibrating like struck steel. It was as if something vast and violent inside her had been chained for too long—and now the lock had broken.
And then—
She saw it.
Not with her eyes. Not with her mind. With something deeper.
A figure stood in the forest beyond the estate. Towering. Impossible.
A wolf.
No—The Wolf.
Massive, fur like storm clouds, eyes twin infernos of molten red. It looked through the trees, through the night, through the very world—and saw her.
Its voice echoed inside her skull.
> "You have awakened."
Celine gasped. "Who—what are you?"
> "I am the first. The forgotten. The flame before the fire."
"I am Velkhar."
The name vibrated with power. It was etched into the oldest songs, the lost stones, the forbidden pages. Velkhar—the First Werewolf.
> "You are mine."
The words struck her with weight and clarity. Not a threat. A truth.
She wasn't alone in her body anymore.
Memories that weren't hers flashed through her—war, blood, moons rising and falling, an ancient forest burning with silver fire.
She curled in on herself, panting. Her hands left shallow claw marks on the balcony stone. Her hearing sharpened until she could hear the heartbeat of a bird sleeping in the attic. Her nose twitched at the scent of iron from a rusted lantern.
Every sense screamed awake.
She stumbled to her feet. Her reflection in the window—eyes glowing, veins pulsing with red light. Her silhouette blurred, and for an instant, there was something not human standing there. Something taller. Stronger. Predatory.
Then she blinked, and it was gone.
She wrapped her arms around herself. This power—it wasn't just strength. It was dangerous. Raw. Ancient.
> "You are the last of my blood. The beginning and the end."
The voice was quieter now, retreating to the corners of her mind. A presence, always watching.
She had awakened.
But she couldn't tell anyone.
Not yet.
If the Council found out—if Prince Kael knew—
She'd be dragged into the Temple of Purity. Declared unstable. A threat.
No one trusted the forgotten bloodlines. Especially not the Wolf Soul.
---
Celine wrapped herself in her cloak and slipped into the library, silent as a shadow. Moonlight bled through the tall windows. She needed answers.
She lit a small silver lamp and navigated the rows of forbidden tomes her family had preserved—books older than the current kingdom, older than the crown Kael was destined to wear.
She pulled out a cracked leather volume: Chronicles of the First Howl. Dust rose like smoke. Her fingers flipped pages she barely remembered learning to read.
And there he was. Velkhar.
An ink drawing, faded but fierce. The caption beneath read:
> "The First to Rise Beneath the Blood Moon."
"Bearer of the Soul Flame."
"Devourer of War."
Her hands trembled.
The next page detailed the Awakening Ritual—and how Velkhar had left behind the blood-etched runes that had become today's ceremonies.
But something else was scrawled in red in the margins. Not printed. Not part of the official text.
Handwritten.
A warning.
> "The Soul does not grant power. It demands it."
Celine stared at it.
Was that what the elder had felt? Not a failure—but a delay?
What if the Awakening hadn't failed—but changed? Evolved?
---
Outside, the Blood Moon dimmed. The wind carried whispers that only she could hear.
Celine closed the book, held it to her chest. Her heart still glowed faintly beneath her skin.
She made a silent vow.
She would master this.
Train in secret.
And when the time came, she would return—not as a failure, but as something no one expected.
Not even Prince Kael Duskfang.
---