Aurora hated silence.
Not the natural kind—like the hush after rain, or the quiet hum of trees swaying in the dark. No, this was different.
This silence pressed against her cottage like a hand around the throat.
She stood by the window, contract in one hand, a cup of lukewarm tea in the other. Neither brought comfort. The words on the contract blurred the longer she stared.
One year.Public alliance.Shared space, shared danger.Shared… secrets.
"Insane," she whispered to herself.
But still… she hadn't thrown it away.
And that unsettled her more than the scratch she'd gotten on her finger from that symbol earlier — the one that hadn't stopped tingling since Damien left.
She glanced at the clock. 11:57 PM. The night was thick. Even the moon looked shy, hiding behind black clouds.
Then — the lights flickered.
All of them. Once. Twice.
Then they died.
Click.
Every candle she'd lit sputtered out in a synchronized breath.
Aurora's skin prickled.
The wards around her shop buzzed — low, like an irritated wasp — then fell dead silent.
No hum. No shimmer. Just… nothing.
She moved slowly through the cottage, feet bare against cold floorboards. Her fingers instinctively reached for the crying mirror above her fireplace, just to get a glimpse into the veil.
She whispered an incantation.
The mirror shimmered, fogged—
And then it showed her own reflection… with something standing behind her.
Tall. Shadowed. Crooked. Its head cocked sideways, mouth hanging open like it had never learned to close.
Her heart lurched.
She spun around.
Empty room. No sound. No breathing. Nothing.
But she felt it.
A low, unnatural growl rose from outside — long and scraping, like rusted iron against pavement.
Then—
Scratch.
At her bedroom window.
Deliberate. Slow.
She held her breath.
Scratch… Scratch… Scratch.
She moved toward the window, feet nearly trembling beneath her. The curtains fluttered gently, taunting her.
She pulled them open.
It was there.
Crouched on the roof edge, its limbs too long, joints too bent. Skin black and thin, like burnt paper pulled tight over bones. Its face was a smudge, hollow except for two glowing red eyes.
She couldn't scream. She couldn't look away.
The thing smiled, slow and wrong. Then it whispered her name.
"Auroraaaa…"
The voice was gravel and glass and fire on her spine.
And then, with a bony finger, it drew something into the fog of the window — a curved, twisted symbol that burned into the glass with a hiss.
She stumbled back.
And in a blink, the thing was gone.
The room was deathly still.
Until—
BANG!
The front door slammed open downstairs.
Aurora gasped, grabbing the closest thing she could find — a silver dagger wrapped in ivy roots.
Footsteps stormed up the stairs.
She braced herself.
The door burst open.
Damien.
Soaked from the rain. Eyes burning gold. Breathing hard.
He scanned the room like a soldier. "Where is it?" he barked.
"Gone," she whispered. Her voice shook. "I didn't summon it. I swear."
He crossed the room in two strides, grabbed her wrist. His grip was tight, not painful, but commanding. Dominant.
"You were marked," he growled. His fingers turned her hand over — and there, etched like fire beneath her skin, glowed the same sigil the creature carved into the window.
"It knew your name. You're not just hiding," he muttered, eyes narrowing. "You're being hunted."
"I didn't ask for this," she whispered.
His voice dropped an octave, full of something primal. "Neither did I. But here we are."
For a moment, they just stood there — face to face, breathing heavy.
Her pulse raced. His grip loosened.
Then his eyes darkened. "You don't even know what you are, do you?"
Aurora stared up at him. "What… do you mean?"
Damien stepped back, frustration radiating off him like heat. "We're out of time. You have twenty-four hours to make your choice."
"And if I say no?"
"I'm taking you anyway."
He turned on his heel and left the room like a storm breaking.
She stood there, chest rising and falling, completely undone.
Only when she calmed her breathing did she notice the slip of parchment on the floor. Someone—or something—had slid it under her door.
It was hand-written in ink darker than blood.
You are not safe in the light or the dark.The hunt has begun.He can't protect you when the Third Moon rises…Not even your Alpha.
Her knees almost buckled.
----
Aurora seeks answers from the forbidden grimoire left behind by her mother — and discovers a spell that could bind her power to Damien's forever.
But casting it comes at a deadly price.
----