The Pack camped in silence that night, deep within a sheltered hollow known as Whispering Hollow—an ancient clearing where the trees grew so tall they hid the moon, but not its presence. Even in the darkness, Kael could feel its pull.
He sat alone on a rock near the center of the clearing, the firelight casting long shadows across his face. The mark on his hand still pulsed faintly, like a heartbeat not entirely his own.
Around him, the Pack moved carefully. Brann kept watch, his gaze constantly shifting toward the woods. Lyra tended to Torren, who, though battered, had miraculously survived the earlier encounter. The others whispered when they thought Kael wasn't listening.
They weren't afraid of him. Not exactly.
But something had changed.
Kael could feel it too.
🌓 Echoes of Power
"Hey."
Kael turned. Lyra stood behind him, holding two wooden bowls of steaming stew.
"I figured even a Moonbound Alpha still needs to eat," she said, offering him one.
He gave a tired smile. "Thanks."
They sat together for a moment, the fire crackling between them. Lyra didn't speak, but Kael could feel her watching him.
Finally, she said, "You scared the hell out of us, you know."
Kael looked into his bowl. "I scared myself."
"You were glowing."
"Yeah… I noticed."
Silence.
Then she asked the question he had been avoiding.
"What was that power? Where did it come from?"
Kael didn't answer right away. Instead, he held up his hand, letting the flickering firelight dance across the silver crescent embedded in his skin.
"I don't know," he said quietly. "But it felt… old. Like it didn't come from me, but through me. Like it's been waiting to wake up for a long time."
Lyra studied him. "You're not just one of us now, Kael. You're something else. The Pack's looking to you."
"I'm not ready," he said without hesitation. "I don't know how to lead. I don't even know what I am yet."
"Well," she said, setting her bowl down. "You'd better learn fast."
Kael looked up, startled by the steel in her voice.
"Because we just got word from the outer scouts," she continued. "The corrupted zone is spreading. Faster than before. Something big is coming."
🐾 A Journey to the Lorekeeper
The next morning, Brann approached Kael as the sun began to rise, red and cold above the forest.
"There's someone you need to meet," he said simply.
They departed before midday. Brann, Kael, and Lyra, with two silent scouts who barely spoke but never missed a sound in the trees. Their destination was a sacred place known only to the oldest of the Pack:
The Hollow of Glass Bones.
It was said to lie deep in the Forgotten Hills, a dead zone where nothing grew and the wind whispered in languages lost to time. There, the Lorekeeper waited—the last living archivist of the Moonbound bloodlines.
It took them two days to reach it.
On the third night, the wind shifted.
Kael woke to the feeling of being watched. Not by an animal, but something... conscious. The trees creaked. Mist pooled low to the ground. The scouts were tense, eyes flicking to every shadow.
And then, they reached it.
🕯️ The Hollow of Glass Bones
The Hollow was a ravine shaped like a shattered ribcage. Jagged stone formations jutted out of the earth like the remains of a long-dead titan. Inside, the air was thin and dry. Bones littered the ground—not of beasts, but of wolves.
And there, seated on a throne of root and crystal, was Saerith, the Lorekeeper.
His robes shimmered like moonlight on water, and his eyes—one silver, one black—looked into Kael with unsettling clarity.
"So… the lost son of the Moonbound finally arrives," Saerith said in a voice that was neither young nor old.
Kael hesitated. "You know who I am?"
"I know what you are," Saerith said, rising slowly. "But that's not the same, is it?"
📖 Secrets of the Bloodline
Over the next hours—maybe longer, time felt strange in the Hollow—Kael listened as Saerith spoke.
Of the Moonbound, guardians chosen by the first moon goddess to keep the balance between the wild and the civilized.
Of a hidden war, centuries old, between the Moonbound and those corrupted by the Crimson Eclipse, a force of entropy that devours nature and leaves nothing behind.
Of Kael's father—Tirian Wolfheart, a Moonbound Alpha who vanished during the last Crimson Rising. And Kael's mother, a human seer who gave her life to hide Kael from the enemy.
"You are the bridge," Saerith said. "Born of wolf and man. Of power and prophecy."
Kael's mind reeled.
"Why didn't anyone tell me?"
"Because truth is heavier than lies. And you weren't ready to carry it."
Kael stood, fists clenched. "So what now? I just accept it and lead?"
"No," Saerith said, his voice low. "You train. You prepare. And you survive."
🌫️ The Enemy Moves
As they prepared to leave the Hollow, one of the scouts returned—injured, breathless.
"The corruption," he gasped. "It's moving. It's not spreading… it's marching."
Kael stepped forward. "Toward where?"
The scout looked up, blood on his lips. "Toward the Pack."
A chill settled over them.
Saerith turned his gaze to Kael.
"Then the first trial is upon you. Return quickly, Moonbound. The enemy will not wait."