The morning was too quiet.
No birds. No wind. Just the hum of something unseen pressing against the edges of my mind. The kind of silence that didn't feel like peace — it felt like warning.
Luca hadn't spoken since the sun rose. He moved with the precision of someone lost in thought, each step measured, each glance distant. I wanted to ask what he was thinking, but I already knew.
The prophecy.
Me.
Us.
I'd woken from darkness to find him sitting near the ashes of our campfire, silver eyes dulled by exhaustion. Now, hours later, he still hadn't met my gaze.
Finally, I said, "You can stop pretending you're not terrified of me."
That made him look up. His voice was low, rough. "I'm not terrified of you, Aria. I'm terrified for you."
---
We walked in silence for miles, through terrain that grew colder, steeper, more unforgiving. The canyon opened into a wide valley dusted with frost. Pale sunlight hit the mountains, and for the first time, I saw what looked like ruins — stone pillars carved with runes similar to the ones from before.
They weren't random carvings. They were words.
"Can you read them?" I asked.
He hesitated. "A little. Old language. Older than wolf-tongue."
"What does it say?"
He brushed his fingers over the symbols, voice soft.
> "The one born of moonlight and shadow shall break the chains of the cursed."
I swallowed. "Sounds… uplifting?"
"Depends who you ask," he said. "To the wolves, it's a promise. To everyone else—it's a threat."
---
The ground trembled faintly, enough to make the stones hum. Luca stepped back, tension crawling through his body. "We shouldn't stay here."
"Why not?"
He gave me that look again — the one that made me feel like he saw everything I tried to hide.
"Because those who wrote this… aren't gone."
Before I could respond, a faint light flickered between the pillars. Not bright like fire, but ghostly — shimmering with hues of silver and blue. I moved closer. It pulsed once, twice, and then something spoke.
Not aloud.
Inside my head.
Aria.
My breath hitched. "Did you—did you hear that?"
Luca's jaw tightened. "No. What did it say?"
I hesitated. "My name."
---
The light swelled again, and this time, a shape formed. A woman — tall, draped in silver mist, her eyes endless white. She wasn't solid, but she wasn't entirely gone either.
"Child of the broken moon," she said, her voice echoing in both sound and thought. "You've awoken too soon."
Luca stepped in front of me, shielding me instinctively. "Who are you?"
"I am the remnant," the figure said. "The last memory of the first wolves. The keeper of what you've forgotten."
Her gaze shifted to me. "Your blood sings loudly, little one. The chains tremble."
"I don't understand," I said, heart pounding. "What am I?"
"You are the bridge between light and sin," she replied. "A balance that was never meant to exist."
---
The air crackled. The ruins shook. Then, as suddenly as she appeared, the spirit began to fade.
"Wait!" I shouted. "How do I stop it? Whatever this prophecy is—how do I control it?"
Her final words drifted like wind:
> "You don't control what was born to rewrite the world."
And then she was gone.
Silence fell again. Luca turned to me, eyes wide — not with fear this time, but awe. "She spoke to you. Do you realize what that means?"
"I'm starting to wish I didn't."
He shook his head. "It means you're not just part of the prophecy, Aria. You are the catalyst."
---
We made camp later on the ridge, where the valley stretched below like a sleeping beast. The night was colder than before, and though I tried to sleep, the echo of her words burned in my head.
When I opened my eyes again, Luca was sitting by the fire, looking at me like he'd been watching for hours.
"You should rest," he said.
"I can't. My mind won't stop."
He hesitated, then took a seat beside me. The firelight painted his face in gold and shadow. He was so close I could feel his warmth, smell the faint wild scent that clung to him — pine, smoke, and something ancient.
"You don't have to do this alone," he said softly.
"I think I was meant to."
"Maybe," he murmured. "But I'm not leaving you to figure it out."
---
For a moment, the world shrank to the space between us — the unspoken understanding, the gravity pulling us closer. His gaze fell to my lips, then back to my eyes. My heart raced, not just from attraction, but from recognition.
Something about him felt written into me, like his soul and mine had collided long before we met.
"Luca…" I whispered.
He smiled faintly. "I know."
But before anything else could happen, a sharp pain hit the back of my skull. The world tilted, blurred, and went black.
---
When I woke, I wasn't by the fire. I was in a stone room lit by candles, wrists bound with silver threads that glowed faintly against my skin. Luca was nowhere in sight.
A voice echoed from the shadows. "At last, the silver-blood opens her eyes."
I turned, struggling against the bindings. A tall figure stepped forward, wearing black armor and a crown of bone. His eyes shimmered crimson — not wolf, not human. Something worse.
"Who are you?" I demanded.
He smiled. "I am what comes after prophecy. The end it promises."
He moved closer, his gaze sharp and hungry. "And you, little hybrid, are the spark that will burn the balance to ash."