The storm had passed, leaving behind the soft hush of wet leaves and the steady drip of water from the trees. A thin veil of mist drifted through the forest, silvered by the pale light of dawn.
Their campfire burned low, a faint ember glow flickering between the shadows. The others slept Asha curled beneath her cloak, Kael resting against a tree with his blade across his lap, Darian's arm draped loosely over his eyes.
Only Melody and Lucien were awake.
She sat near the fire, knees drawn close, her cloak wrapped tightly around her shoulders. Her fingers absently traced the edge of her pendant, a moonstone dulled by time and touch. Across from her, Lucien leaned against a fallen log, watching the dying flames, his face half-lit in amber.
For a long while, neither spoke. The silence between them was not empty; it was heavy with what had been seen in the crypt, what had been unspoken since.
Finally, Melody broke it. "You haven't looked at me the same since last night."
Lucien's gaze lifted, slow and deliberate. "You touched something ancient, Melody. Something that should have stayed buried. Forgive me if I'm… cautious."
Her lips curved faintly, though her eyes didn't soften. "Cautious," she repeated. "That's one word for it."
He sighed quietly. "You could've died."
"And you would've dragged me back," she said, a little too quickly, the edge of defiance masking something fragile underneath.
Lucien's eyes darkened. "Don't make light of this. That thing Moonbound it marked you."
Melody's voice grew quieter. "Maybe it didn't mark me. Maybe it remembered me."
Lucien stilled. The words hung between them, dangerous and uncertain.
He rose, crossing the small space between them. The firelight caught the edge of his jaw, the faint scar that traced from his neck to his collarbone a reminder of another life, another curse.
When he spoke again, his voice was softer, stripped of the usual restraint. "You can't keep running toward the darkness, Melody. It's not a place you can save."
Her gaze lifted to meet his. "And you can't keep pretending you don't belong to it."
The air between them shifted sharp and quiet, like the breath before lightning.
Lucien's hand twitched at his side, as if fighting the instinct to reach for her. "You don't know what you're saying."
"I do," she whispered. "Every time I look at you, I see the part of myself I buried. The wildness. The hunger. The ache to belong somewhere that doesn't exist anymore."
His throat worked, but no words came. The forest around them seemed to fade, leaving only the flicker of firelight, the sound of their heartbeats syncing in uneasy rhythm.
Lucien sat beside her finally, close enough that the warmth of his presence chased away the night chill. He didn't touch her not yet but his nearness was enough to unravel something in her chest.
Melody spoke again, her voice fragile as ash. "When I touched the altar… I saw her. The woman in the moonlight. She wasn't afraid. She was grieving."
Lucien's jaw tightened. "You saw the first Luna. The one who bore the curse. She gave everything to keep the worlds apart, the wolves and the bound."
"And now it's bleeding through again," Melody said softly. "Because of me."
He shook his head. "No. Because of what was done to you."
Her eyes shimmered faintly, silver catching the firelight. "It's strange. The curse feels less like a chain now, and more like a heartbeat. Like it's waking up inside me."
Lucien looked at her for a long time longer than he should have. "That's why I'm afraid."
Her breath hitched, quiet. "Afraid of me?"
He met her gaze, unflinching. "No. Afraid of what I'll do to keep you safe."
Something in her expression cracked then a tremor of emotion she tried to hide. "You can't keep saving me, Lucien. I don't want to be another shadow you carry."
He exhaled slowly, the ghost of a smile touching his lips. "And yet you keep walking into the dark."
"I walk," she said, voice trembling, "because I trust you'll follow."
The silence that followed was soft, almost tender. The kind of silence that didn't need to be filled.
Lucien's hand finally moved tentatively, carefully brushing a strand of hair from her face. His fingers lingered at her cheek, tracing the faint tremor of warmth there. "You make it very hard to keep my distance."
Her eyes fluttered closed. "Then don't."
For a heartbeat, the world stilled the fire, the forest, the dawn itself holding its breath. But he didn't kiss her. Instead, he lowered his hand, resting it briefly against her shoulder, grounding her in a way words never could.
"Get some rest," he murmured. "Tomorrow, everything changes."
Melody opened her eyes. "Promise me one thing, Lucien."
He hesitated. "What?"
"That when it does… you won't face it alone."
His smile was faint, tired, but real. "I've been alone for a very long time, Melody. You don't break that kind of habit easily."
She reached out, brushing her fingers against his wrist light as breath. "Then let me try."
The touch lingered, fragile as dawn.
When she finally lay down, the forest began to stir with the first whispers of morning. Lucien stayed awake, watching the fire die to embers, watching the faint rise and fall of her breathing.
And for the first time in years, he let himself feel the quiet ache of hope, small, dangerous, and impossibly alive.
Melody drifted toward sleep, the echo of his voice still in her mind. Somewhere deep inside, beneath the pulse of her curse and the whisper of the Moonbound, she felt something shift not the pull of darkness, but a thread of warmth.
Maybe hope was a curse too, she thought, one she was finally willing to bear.
Outside the clearing, the red moon had faded to silver, but in its light, something unseen moved through the trees, a shadow wearing the shape of a wolf, eyes gleaming like mirrors.
It watched the camp for a long moment before disappearing into the mist.
The bond had been forged.
And the Moonbound had begun to stir.