The collar gleamed under the hallway light; silver, thick, and humming with magic.
Mira's stomach turned. She hadn't seen one since she was sixteen.
Used by hunters to control rogue wolves. Not to kill. To break.
"Get behind me," Grey rasped, forcing himself to his feet.
But Mira didn't move.
Her eyes locked on the intruder's. "You're not here for him," she said coldly. "You're here for me."
The hunter stepped into the apartment. His boots crunched the broken wood beneath him. The mask he wore was obsidian-black, marked with a faded white crescent.
"I don't know you," she said, keeping her voice level. "But you clearly know me."
The man didn't speak. He lifted the collar, slowly, deliberately.
Grey snarled. "If you think you'll touch her…."
The hunter struck.
Faster than she could follow, he lunged. Mira barely had time to dodge, her body moving on instinct, slamming into the wall beside the door. Grey charged, his knife flashing.
The hunter caught his arm mid-swing and slammed him into the floor hard enough to crack tile.
Grey gasped, stunned. His injured shoulder throbbed with black veins. He wasn't healed, not enough to fight.
Mira didn't hesitate. She grabbed a syringe from her counter, adrenaline and jabbed it into Grey's thigh.
He roared, golden eyes blazing with a sudden burst of life.
But the hunter was already turning back to her.
She moved fast. Too fast for a human. Her wolf rose in her veins, sharpening her movements.
She grabbed a lamp and smashed it against the hunter's side. He grunted, stumbling slightly, giving her just enough room to bolt across the apartment.
He threw the collar.
It whirled through the air, clinking, deadly, aimed for her throat.
Snap.
It caught.
Mira hit the ground, choking.
The silver seared her skin. Wolfsbane burned through her blood. Her vision blurred.
The world tilted.
Grey's roar split the air.
He launched himself at the hunter, this time with full force. The two collided, fangs, claws, blood.
Mira could barely see.
Her hands clawed at the collar, but it was sealed tight.
She couldn't breathe. Couldn't shift. Couldn't think.
And then, just as she began to black out,
The pressure eased.
A cold burst of air hit her face.
She gasped.
The collar was gone.
Grey stood over her, panting, blood dripping from his jaw.
The hunter lay unconscious or dead on the floor, unmoving.
Mira tried to sit up. Her body trembled.
Grey helped her gently. His touch, even bloodied, was careful. Reverent.
"You saved me," she said, voice barely a whisper.
He looked at her like she was the most fragile thing he'd ever seen. "You're mine. Of course I did."
A part of her wanted to pull away from the bond growing between them. But another, buried deeper, ached to lean in.
The pain from the collar lingered, more than physical. It had been meant for her. Not Grey. Not any random rogue.
Someone had sent this hunter, specifically, to bring her down.
Her hands shook.
"What does he want with me?" she whispered. "I'm not in the game anymore. I don't run with packs. I'm not Luna to anyone."
Grey's jaw flexed. "You don't get it yet, do you?"
"Get what?"
"Some wolves are born with power," he said. "Some are made. But a true Luna? She's something else. She doesn't just stand beside an Alpha. She holds his fate. Guides it. Changes it."
She scoffed. "You're talking mythology."
"No. I'm talking about you."
She stared at him.
He wasn't trying to flatter her.
He believed it.
Mira turned back toward the hunter. He was starting to move again, groaning. She marched over and kicked his side hard enough to roll him.
Then she froze.
His mask had shifted, just enough to see part of his face.
Not human.
But not a full wolf either.
Scars marked his jawline. One eye was clouded over…blind!
And on the side of his neck, burned into his skin, was a symbol she hadn't seen in ten years.
An upside-down crescent flanked by two daggers.
The mark of the Ghost Howlers.
Mira's blood turned to ice.
They were a pack that had been wiped out during the last war. Brutal. Merciless. Hated by every faction, rogue and royal alike.
"I thought they were extinct," she whispered.
"They were," Grey said grimly. "Until now."
"What the hell do they want with me?"
Grey didn't answer immediately.
But then he looked at her, something dark and knowing in his eyes.
"They don't want to kill you, Mira," he said quietly. "They want to claim you."
Her stomach dropped. "Why?"
Grey's silence stretched too long.
Then, finally…
"Because you weren't just born under the red moon," he said.
Mira stiffened.
"You were born of it," he finished. "And if the legends are true… the Luna born of the blood moon can awaken powers that died with the ancient line."
Mira took a step back. "You're talking prophecy. That's a bedtime story."
"No," he said. "It's war. And you're at the center of it."
And then..
The hunter's radio, still clipped to his belt, crackled to life.
A voice, deep and distorted, spoke through the static:
"Status report. Is the Luna secured?"
End of Chapter Five
.....
The Ghost Howlers are alive and they're hunting Mira for reasons rooted in ancient prophecy. But what is the truth about her birth… and how far will they go to control her?