Chapter 8 The Forbidden Link

• Night fell heavy and quiet over Mooncrest Academy.
• The kind of silence that made every creak in the walls feel like a secret being whispered.
• The guards had been doubled since the council meeting. Every corner had eyes.
• But none of that mattered—because I could feel him.
• That faint pulse beneath my skin, the same rhythm as his heart…
• Lucien was near.
• I slipped out of my dorm window just before midnight. The cold air bit at my skin, and the moon hung low—blood-red, like it was watching. My wolf stirred restlessly inside me, drawn toward him like gravity itself.
• The courtyard was empty.
• At least, it seemed that way—until I heard a low growl from the shadows.
• “Thought I told you not to come here.”
• Lucien stepped into the moonlight, his hair messy, eyes glowing faint gold. There was something wild about him tonight—something barely restrained.
• “You also told me not to trust them,” I said softly. “So which one do I follow?”
• He exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “You shouldn’t be here, Scarlet. If the council finds us—”
• “They’ll what? Lock me up again?” I snapped. “I’m tired of being treated like a weapon they don’t understand.”
• Lucien’s eyes softened. “You don’t understand either.”
• “Then make me.”
• For a moment, neither of us spoke. The wind rustled the trees, carrying the faint scent of pine and smoke. Then, slowly, he reached out and brushed his fingers against the mark on my arm.
• Instantly, warmth shot through me—sharp, electric. My breath hitched.
• “This link,” he murmured, “it’s not just fate’s trick. It’s… old magic. From before the first packs existed.”
• I frowned. “What kind of magic?”
• He hesitated, as if saying it aloud would make it real. “The kind that created the Blood Wolves.”
• My pulse quickened. “That’s just a legend—”
• “No,” he cut in. “It’s real. And your mark proves it.”
• I stared at him, heart pounding. “You’re saying I’m one of them?”
• “Not just one,” he said quietly. “You might be the last.”
• The world tilted. The Blood Wolves—the ancient line cursed with untamed power. Feared by every pack. Hunted to extinction centuries ago.
• “No,” I whispered. “That’s not possible. My mother was human—”
• “Was she?” he asked, voice low, almost sad.
• Something inside me cracked. “What do you know, Lucien?”
• He stepped closer. His scent—pine, smoke, danger—wrapped around me. “I know that your mother wasn’t who she claimed to be. And your father…”
• He paused, eyes burning gold. “Your father was the wolf who destroyed half the Eastern packs twenty years ago.”
• I stumbled back. “You’re lying.”
• “I wish I was.”
• The mark on my arm blazed painfully, glowing red. A strange energy rushed through me—too much, too fast. My wolf howled inside, wild and free.
• Lucien caught me before I hit the ground. His touch steadied the storm—but only barely.
• “Your power’s waking up,” he said. “And if you don’t learn to control it soon, it’ll control you.”
• The mark pulsed again, harder this time, and for a heartbeat—I saw flashes.
• Fire. Blood. A man with eyes like mine.
• Then everything went black.
• The last thing I heard before the darkness took me was Lucien’s voice, raw and desperate:
• “Hold on, Scarlet. Don’t let the darkness take you.”