Chapter 1 The Girl Who Shouldn't Exist

The sky wept fire.

That was what the elders called the Blood Moon-when the sky turned crimson and the veil between instinct and reason thinned like smoke. When ancient bloodlines felt the pull of desires long buried.

And tonight... the sky was burning.

Rielle stood at the edge of the Thalvan border, cloaked in shadows and silence, her red hair braided and tucked beneath her hood. The cuffs on her wrists shimmered faintly beneath the moonlight, reacting to her rising heartbeat.

She wasn't stupid.

She knew what she was doing was madness.

But curiosity... was a beast of its own.

"Don't cross into Thalvan land," her aunt had warned. "They smell fear. They smell lies. They'll tear you apart."

And yet, Rielle crossed.

Not as a Velari.

But masked in the scent of a Lycan.

She'd stolen a vial from an old trader who dealt in forbidden goods-Lycan essence, bottled from a Thalvan warrior's blood and fused with herbs. Dangerous. Illegal. But powerful enough to mask her true scent... for a little while.

Just long enough to see them.

Long enough to finally understand why their kind feared the Lycans... and why part of her craved to feel it.

She moved quietly through the trees, inhaling the sharp, masculine scent of the potion that clung to her skin. It made her head spin. It felt wrong. But necessary.

Then she felt it.

A ripple in the air. A hum in the soil.

She was no longer alone.

---

Prince Darian crouched low on the cliff's edge, his golden eyes glowing beneath the hood of his obsidian cloak. The Blood Moon painted his bare chest in crimson as he listened to the rhythm of the land.

One beat.

Two.

And then-her.

His head snapped toward the trees.

A scent-familiar yet foreign-slithered into his senses like a lie dipped in perfume.

A Lycan? No.

It was wrong.

Too sharp. Too sweet.

Too desperate.

And beneath that layer of deception... was something wild.

Something Velari.

Darian moved.

Fast. Silent. Deadly.

---

Rielle stepped into a clearing bathed in red light, her breath catching at the sight of Thalvan ruins-giant black stones, cracked and half-swallowed by the earth, carved with runes she'd only ever seen in forbidden books.

So this was their world.

Silent. Cold. Ancient.

She took a step forward-then froze.

The wind shifted.

She wasn't alone.

From the shadows, he emerged.

Tall. Sharp. Commanding.

With golden eyes like the dying sun and a body sculpted from dominance itself, Prince Darian looked like something carved from a war god's memory.

And he was staring directly at her.

Rielle swallowed, resisting the urge to run.

"Lost, are we?" His voice was like velvet draped in steel. Smooth, but edged with danger.

She forced a soft smile. "I was just-curious."

"Curious?" He took a step closer. "You reek of lies."

Her stomach flipped.

The scent should have fooled him. The trader swore it would.

"I'm one of you," she said carefully. "My name is... Ryla."

Lie. Another lie.

Darian tilted his head slowly, like a predator analyzing its prey. "Are you?"

"Yes."

He was closer now. Too close.

She could see the shadows dancing across his bare chest, the glint of a silver pendant resting just above his heart-the mark of the Thalvan royal bloodline.

"If you're one of us..." he murmured, stepping behind her, voice brushing her neck, "...why do I smell moonfire and forest ash beneath that fake perfume?"

Her breath caught.

He knew.

Rielle turned, claws instinctively slipping from her fingers, but Darian moved faster. In a blur, he had her against the stone wall, one hand gripping her wrist, the other pressed against her hip.

His face was inches from hers.

"Velari," he whispered, not with hate... but with fascination.

"How did you-?"

"Your lie was strong." His gaze dropped to the cuffs on her wrists. "But not stronger than this."

He raised her arm and studied the runes glowing softly on the metal.

"Where did you get these?"

"I-I was born with them."

His expression shifted. Slightly. Almost like... recognition.

"You shouldn't be here," he growled. "You shouldn't even exist."

"I didn't come to fight." Her voice cracked. "I came to know. To see."

"See what?"

"You."

And maybe... understand what this pull is between us.

For a moment, the world stood still.

His golden eyes flickered down to her lips.

Then back to her eyes.

The air pulsed.

Something ancient stirred between them.

But just as his grip loosened, a sharp howl pierced the night-followed by another.

Thalvan warriors.

They were coming.

"I have to go," she breathed.

"You're not going anywhere," he hissed.

She twisted, shoved her palm against his chest, and in a flash of defiant energy, vanished into the trees.

Gone.

Darian stood there, chest heaving, scent of her still clinging to the wind.

A Velari... with cuffs.

With ancient runes.

With power.

And yet-he'd let her go.

Why?

He stared at the blood moon overhead.

He didn't even know her name.

But his soul whispered it anyway.

Rielle.