CHAPTER 4 : THE BLEEDING MOONLIGHT

Silence closed in around Moonstone Temple, thick and heavy. Nobody moved. Nobody even dared to breathe. A silvery mate bond shimmered between Seraphine and Kaelen—alive, almost buzzing with its own moonlit energy. They both felt it, and everyone else in the hall did, too. It wasn’t supposed to exist. Every wolf there knew that. Mate bonds were old. Sacred. Untouchable. That’s what they'd been told since they could remember. If you rejected your mate, that was it. The bond broke. Always. No exceptions. But this bond didn’t break. It shifted. Changed into something none of them recognized. Seraphine could see it in the way the Council watched her, terror etched across every face. Whatever had happened, it rattled them deeper than any rule ever could. Seraphine stood motionless at the altar. Her heart felt like it was trying to hammer its way out of her chest. The silver glow faded, but the feeling lingered. Something inside her had woken up. Something old. Something that felt as though it had been waiting just for this moment. It was there, now—awake and breathing beneath her skin. She felt exposed. Hunted. From across the altar, Kaelen stared, his usual arrogance nowhere to be seen. He looked—genuinely startled. Maybe even frightened. Why did he look like that? She wanted to hate him for what he’d done—publicly rejecting her like she was nothing—but mostly she just felt lost. Why would he go through all that, only for the bond to survive? Elder Rowan cut through her thoughts, his voice rough: “Enough.” The old wolf actually shook. “The ceremony is over.” The crowd broke, noise rushing in—whispered questions and nervous accusations. People didn’t understand what they’d just witnessed. Seraphine didn’t, either. The Elders wasted no time in pushing everyone toward the exits. They moved fast, and it felt off—in a way that buzzed warning in Seraphine’s bones. This wasn't to calm the crowd. This was about hiding something. That chilling realization crawled along her skin. She slipped outside. The night felt colder, the Blood Moon still heavy in the sky, casting everything in an unreal, reddish light. Wolves clustered in nervous groups and stared as she walked past. Whispers trailed her wherever she went. The rejected mate. The packless girl. The cursed wolf. The impossible bond. She heard every rumor. Every frightened glance and mocking laugh. But tonight, the stares carried something new. Fear. That was the most dangerous thing. Fear twisted people. Made them cruel. Made them reckless. A voice snapped through her daze. “Quite the performance.” She turned. Lyra Ashwood stood there, her clique of girls right behind her—waiting, smirking. “Leave me alone,” Seraphine muttered. Lyra laughed. “Or what?” Seraphine clenched her jaw. She had nothing left. No patience. Just exhaustion, scraping at her nerves. But Lyra wasn’t finished. “You should be grateful,” she said. Seraphine frowned. “For what?” Lyra’s eyes glittered. “Kaelen rejected you before you embarrassed yourself.” The other girls snickered. The words stung, more than she cared to admit. For a heartbeat inside the temple, she had believed destiny might—just might—choose her for once. Stupid. Lyra stepped closer, voice low: “You don’t belong here.” The words landed like a bruise. It was what Seraphine had been afraid of all along—the Registry Book, the missing portraits, every judgmental glare. Maybe she really didn’t fit. Maybe everyone could tell. A sudden, sharp pain jolted her back. She looked down—her fingernails had dug hard into her palm. Blood welled up, bright and red. At first. Then the blood began to glow. Silver. Pure, living silver. Light bled from her skin, brightening the courtyard. Lyra’s laughter broke off. The girls stepped back, eyes wide. Seraphine stopped breathing, just watching as the glow spread—over her fingers, up her wrist, flowing through veins that lit up beneath her skin. Her heart raced with panic. Every wolf bled red. But she… she was bleeding moonlight. The courtyard erupted into gasps. The silver droplets rose from her hand, hanging in the air—impossible, gravity-defying little moons. Lyra stumbled back, terror plain on her face. “What are you?” she whispered. Seraphine had no answer for her. Not anymore. Suddenly, the sky changed. Heavy clouds slid over the moon. The wind cut sharp and cold. Wolves stared upward, sensing something was wrong, really wrong. Her hand trembled violently. The silver blood kept floating, swirling around her and then rising, drawn toward the big bloody moon above. The pressure in the air pressed down—crushing, ancient, overwhelming. It felt like a thousand unseen eyes watched her. Not the pack’s. Not anything from this side of the moon. Her skin prickled with dread. The silver droplets shot upward, streaking toward the moon. The moment they touched the light, everything changed. The earth shuddered, humming with power. Trees bent. Glass shattered. Wolves stumbled and cried out as the crimson moon above darkened further and further, until the color looked dangerous, wrong—deep blood-red. Screams broke out across the territory as panic set in. Everyone saw it—the moon responding to her. And everyone knew that just wasn’t supposed to happen. Kaelen pushed through the crowd. His face had changed—he looked not just confused, but like he recognized something he wished he didn’t. He reached her, grabbed her wounded hand. The instant he touched her, the glow flickered. The pressure eased. The silver droplets vanished. The sky cleared, as if none of it had ever happened. Silence dropped over them—a heavy, wary hush. Wolves stared. Nobody moved. Kaelen let go, almost flinching away. His face closed down, but he couldn’t hide the fear in his eyes. Not fear of her. Fear of what she could turn into. And that difference mattered. Even if she didn’t understand why yet. The crowd scattered, but rumors just spread faster—monster, moon-touched, abomination. She heard it all. Each word chipped away a little more of who she thought she was. Who was she, really? Why did reality buckle around her like that? And why did Kaelen act like he’d seen this coming? The questions circled in her head long after she’d slipped away to her room. Nobody checked in on her. The house stayed quiet, pretending nothing had happened. Outside, the moon shone soft and white—as if it wasn’t just blood-red hours ago. Seraphine stared at her hand. The wound was gone, not even a scar left behind. Nothing about tonight—about her—was normal. She climbed into bed, too tired to fight off sleep. Darkness found her almost immediately. Then she heard a voice. Gentle. Ancient. Far away, but not far enough. Her eyes flew open. But the room stayed black and silent. Still, the whisper came again, closer this time—a thread of sound winding straight into the heart of her. “I found you.” Then: utter silence. Yet deep in her chest, something old and powerful stirred in answer. For the first time, Seraphine realized she wasn’t the only one living in her head.