Fated to Ruin The Luna-Crimson Moon Oath.

Lyra’s POV.

The forest burned with silver light. The Blood Moon hung swollen above the Vale cliffs and every wolf in the territory howled its name.

Their voices were a hymn of power, but beneath the harmony, I could hear the truth, a pulse of fear. It threaded through the smoke and the drums and the crackle of fire, whispering of something no one dared speak aloud.

That fear had a name, which is mine. I stood at the edge of the bonfire circle, the flames painting my skin in restless gold. Every gaze cut toward me, not with reverence, but with calculation. Waiting for me to stumble. Waiting for the curse to show.

“You don’t belong here, Lyra.” Rowan’s voice sliced through the night like a blade. The son of the Beta, drunk on his father’s pride, his teeth gleaming as if he already tasted victory. Around him, the pack watched, eager for blood disguised as laughter.

I smiled, sharp and dangerous. “Funny, Rowan. I thought the invitation said all pack members, not just the idiots.”

A ripple of laughter broke, uneasy but real. His smirk faltered... Good.

But then he stepped closer, his breath reeking of wine and arrogance. “Your father may be Alpha, but that doesn’t make you one of us. Cursed blood doesn’t make a wolf, Vale.”

The word cursed landed like a blade. For a moment, something ugly burned in my chest: shame, rage and the memory of the whispers that had followed me since I was born under an eclipse. But I didn’t flinch.

“Careful,” I said, letting my voice drop to a low growl. “You keep talking and I might prove how wolf I really am.”

He barked out a laugh. “Prove it tomorrow. If you even shift.” My nails dug into my palms until I felt the bite of skin. I wanted to tear him apart, not just to silence him, but to silence the doubt clawing inside me.

Because what if he was right? What if the moon rose and I didn’t change? What if the curse everyone whispered about finally showed its teeth?

Before I could answer, a change in the air stilled me and there was a shift in the crowd, not fear, but awareness.

That’s when I saw him. Across the circle, standing apart from the Vale wolves like a shadow against flame, was a man whose presence demanded silence. Broad-shouldered, wrapped in black trimmed with silver, marks of another pack. His gaze caught mine and the world dimmed.

Kael Aeson, heir of the Blackthorn Pack and our sworn enemies. What the hell was he doing here?

The stories hadn’t lied: his eyes were black fire and his face carved from command. But what no story had captured was how it felt when he looked at me, like he saw straight through my skin and into the chaos beneath it.

Rowan noticed my distraction and sneered. “Looks like even the Blackthorns came to watch the Alpha’s daughter fail.”