The halls beneath the Crescent Moon estate whispered with secrets.
Adriana followed Adrian down a torch-lit staircase, the walls lined with ancient murals—some painted in gold leaf, others in blood-like rust. A cold draft trailed behind them, and though her fingers were entwined with Adrian's, she couldn't shake the feeling that something was waiting for her at the bottom.
Something older than werewolves.
Something watching.
"We keep the oldest records in the Catacombs," Adrian said, voice tight. "Lira believes there might be something there. Something about… the Order. About you."
Adriana tensed. "What about me?"
He hesitated. "We don't know yet."
That was a lie. She felt it.
When they reached the arched doorway, Lira was already waiting, her hands resting atop an obsidian cane carved with crescent moons and runes that pulsed faintly with energy.
"I wasn't expecting you both," she said, though her eyes were fixed on Adriana.
"I asked him to bring me," Adriana replied. "If I'm being hunted, I deserve answers."
Lira nodded solemnly. "Then come. But be warned—the truth sleeps in shadows. And sometimes, it bites."
---
The archives felt like another world.
Stone walls dripped with condensation. Shelves of leather-bound tomes stretched far into darkness. Scrolls lined with ancient writing hummed faintly, vibrating with locked magic. It smelled like dust, old blood, and power.
Lira led them to a sealed door. She ran her fingers over a carved moon crest, whispered a phrase in a tongue Adriana didn't recognize, and the stone groaned open.
Inside the chamber was a pedestal—and on it, a single book. Bound in gray hide. Sealed with violet wax.
Adriana's heart pounded the moment she stepped inside.
You've been here before.
The thought came out of nowhere. Not memory. Instinct.
Lira broke the wax seal and opened the book.
"This," she said, turning it toward Adriana, "is a record of the Obsidian Order's last known attack. Thirty years ago. They nearly succeeded in wiping out an entire bloodline. A child was the only survivor. A girl."
Adriana's breath caught.
Lira turned the page.
There, sketched in rough charcoal, was the face of a woman. Her eyes were Adriana's. Her hair was the same thick coils. Her jaw, her cheekbones—everything.
"My mother," Adriana whispered.
Lira nodded. "She was marked for death by the Order because of what she carried in her blood."
Adrian moved beside her, tense.
"She was a blood-mage hybrid," Lira said. "One of the last."
Adriana turned to Adrian. "You knew?"
"I suspected," he admitted. "But I didn't want to say anything until we were sure. I didn't want you to panic."
Adriana stepped back. "You mean until you could control it?"
The room fell silent.
Adrian's jaw clenched. "That's not fair."
"You kept this from me!"
"I was protecting you."
"From what? Myself?"
"No," he said, stepping forward. "From the weight of knowing what the world expects from someone like you. Because once this truth is out—once they know—you'll never be safe again. Not even with me."
Adriana's eyes burned.
"So what am I?" she whispered. "Some rare weapon? A Luna with magic blood? Something for everyone to use or fear?"
Lira raised her cane. "You are not a weapon. You are the turning point."
Adriana's voice shook. "Why does the Order want me?"
"They believe your kind weakens the wolf line," Lira explained. "Hybrids like you can disrupt their power. Nullify their dark magic. That's why the hunter marked you. Not just because you're Luna… but because you're dangerous to them."
Adriana swallowed hard. "Then I need to learn how to use it."
Adrian stepped forward, softer now. "And I'll help you."
She hesitated.
"Will you really, Adrian? Or will you always try to protect me from myself?"
His silence said more than his words.
She turned back to Lira. "I want to train. I want to learn about my blood. About what I can do. I want to fight."
"Good," Lira said. "Because war is already coming."
---
That night, Adriana couldn't sleep.
She stood on the balcony overlooking the woods, the pendant still glowing faintly against her chest. The sky was quiet, the moon high—but the air felt charged. Like something brewing beyond the trees.
Behind her, she heard footsteps. Adrian.
He didn't speak. He stood beside her in silence for a long moment.
Then he said, "I'm sorry I didn't tell you."
Adriana didn't look at him. "I'm not just your mate, Adrian. I'm not some puzzle to solve or power to harness. I'm me."
"I know."
"Do you?" she asked, finally turning to face him. "Because sometimes it feels like you see me as part of the prophecy. The bond. The role. Not the girl."
Adrian looked at her, eyes full of fire and sadness.
"You're not just my Luna," he said. "You're my heart. And maybe I don't know how to show that without trying to protect you. But I'm learning."
Adriana's chest tightened. "Then let me fight. Beside you. Not behind."
He reached for her hand. She let him take it.
"No more secrets," she whispered.
"No more hiding," he promised.
Then he leaned in, and their foreheads touched.
"I don't know where this road goes," she murmured.
"Wherever it leads," he said, "we walk it together."