Chapter 2 The Orphan Girl

The world blurred around her. Branches whipped past. Roots threatened to trip her with every step, but Demetrius' grip on her hand was firm, guiding her with inhuman speed through the forest. Eirene could barely keep up. Her lungs burned. Her legs screamed. But she didn't dare stop. Not with the memory of that beast-the thing with claws and eyes like hellfire-still fresh in her mind. "What was that thing?" she gasped, nearly stumbling again. "A rogue," Demetrius replied without looking back. "A lost one.

Born of the curse, but twisted beyond redemption." "Rogue? Like a feral werewolf?" "Something worse. Something... empty." His words made her shiver more than the cold night ever could. After what felt like hours, the trees finally parted to reveal a clearing encircled by standing stones. Moonlight spilled down into the center like a spotlight, catching on silver runes etched into the stones' surfaces. Despite the red hue of the blood moon, the center of the circle glowed with a calming pale light-cool, serene, almost holy. Demetrius released her hand and stepped into the circle. The wind died instantly. The air grew still. Sacred. Eirene hesitated on the edge. "Where are we?" "A Sanctuary Circle. Hidden by old magic. Rogues cannot cross this line." She finally stepped in and felt it: warmth under her skin, a pulse of something deep and ancient, almost like a heartbeat that wasn't her own. The aching in her legs dulled. The terror calmed. It was the first place that felt safe since her world began to unravel. Demetrius sat on one of the stones, silent for a moment. The moon cast silver along his bare shoulders, catching in the faint scars that crossed his chest like constellations. "You should rest." Eirene shook her head, arms crossed tight. "I want answers." He glanced at her, golden eyes unreadable. "Ask." Her throat tightened. So many questions crowded her mind she didn't know where to begin. But one finally rose above the others. "Why me?" Demetrius stood slowly. His bare feet made no sound as he stepped closer to her. She should have flinched when he neared, should have recoiled from the raw power in his presence, but she didn't. "You are the last of the Lykarian bloodline," he said, voice low. "The final descendant of the first werewolf-Lykaios, the cursed warrior of the gods. His blood sleeps in your veins, waiting for the moon to wake it." "That's impossible. I'm nobody. I was raised in foster homes. I don't even know who my parents were." "You know more than you think," Demetrius murmured. "Your dreams... your instincts... even your defiance. They're all signs." Her eyes narrowed. "And what about you? Why are you helping me?" His jaw clenched. "Because I was sworn to protect the Luna-Born, even if it meant my death." "Sworn by who?" He turned away, as if the answer pained him. "By your mother." Eirene froze. The word hit her harder than anything else he had said. "My... mother?" "She was once part of my pack. A fierce warrior. She vanished before your birth. We all thought she had died." He paused. "But she hid. To protect you." Eirene sank onto one of the stones. Her knees felt weak. "So she was like you? A werewolf?" He nodded. "I always thought she abandoned me." "She saved you," he said gently. "From a war you weren't ready to fight." Eirene looked up at him, and for the first time, she didn't see a monster or a stranger. She saw sorrow. Depth. Memory. "What was she like?" Demetrius gave a small, distant smile. "Strong. Sharp-tongued. Reckless. She had your eyes." A lump formed in Eirene's throat. She blinked hard. "Why now? Why is everything happening tonight?" He sat beside her, close enough that she felt the heat of his skin. "The prophecy." She exhaled shakily. "You keep saying that." He looked at her, golden eyes burning with purpose. "The Moon Goddess, Selene, bound our kind to fate. She cursed Lykaios and all his descendants. But she also promised that one day, a daughter of his blood would rise-one born under a blood moon-and that she would either end the curse or doom us all." "And you think that's me." "I know it is." Eirene looked down at her trembling hands. "I don't feel like a savior. I feel like I'm losing my mind." Demetrius reached out and, to her surprise, gently tucked a loose curl behind her ear. "You don't have to believe yet. But you are changing. Your blood is waking. Soon, the first shift will come." Her eyes widened. "Wait. I'm going to... turn? Like full-on wolf?" "Yes." "When?" "Soon." Her stomach dropped. She stood and paced the circle. "This is insane. I didn't ask for any of this." "No one ever does," he said softly. "But you're not alone." She turned back toward him, heat rising in her chest. "You don't know me." "I know your scent," he said, voice lower now. "I know the rhythm of your heart. I felt it the moment I saw you. You're not just Luna-Born, Eirene." He rose to his feet, stepping toward her again. "You're mine." She stepped back. "Excuse me?" "Fated. Bound by the old magic. Your soul is marked." She shook her head. "I don't care what kind of mystical moon-mating crap this is. I didn't sign up for it." Demetrius didn't argue. He simply nodded once, but the shadow in his eyes deepened. "You'll feel it soon. The bond. It's already begun." A sharp pain flared in her chest-right over her heart. She gasped and clutched it. Demetrius was beside her in an instant. "It's starting." "What is?" "The awakening." Her knees buckled, and he caught her. The pain was fire-racing through her veins like liquid silver. Her skin burned. Her spine arched. Her breath came in ragged gasps. "What's-what's happening to me?" she cried out. "You're shifting," he whispered. "Too soon..." He scooped her up into his arms and laid her gently on the moss within the circle. The runes beneath her body glowed. Her scream ripped through the clearing as her bones cracked and reshaped. Her nails lengthened into claws. Her skin shimmered, silver streaks racing across her limbs like lightning. Her eyes turned a fierce glowing white. And then-suddenly-it stopped. She was still human. But barely. Her body pulsed with a new energy. She sat up slowly, panting. Her senses had exploded. She could hear water trickling underground. Smell the moss, the dirt, the memory of fire in Demetrius' skin. "What the hell was that?" He knelt beside her. "The first stirrings of your wolf." "I didn't... shift all the way." "No," he said. "But the next time... you will." She clutched her arms around herself. "I'm scared." "I know." She looked up at him-and saw no judgment. No arrogance. Just quiet strength. Something in her chest softened. "Thank you," she whispered. "For not leaving me." He gave a quiet nod. "I've waited for you a long time." And though the night still held danger, and the prophecy loomed like a sword above her head, for the first time, Eirene felt something else stirring in her heart. Not fear. Not rage. Hope.