Rachel's POV
"You thought you could outrun me, Rachel," his voice reverberated in the stillness, his words resembling a dark storm approaching. I did not turn around. I was unable to. His presence was so overwhelming that I was paralysed. Tall and powerful, his figure came out of the shadows as though he were created from darkness itself. Those icy, penetrating eyes of his fixed on me and I felt my stomach turn. "You are mistaken," I responded, attempting to seem more robust than I actually was. You don't run me. He laughed softly, the sound low and threatening, causing the hairs on the back of my neck to rise. Should I tell you again, Rachel? You are my moon. You always were. Your fate is set; you cannot escape it. My throat was parched, so I gulped. The cult had been a shadow in my life for too long; now they were pushing in closer, tightening their hold. His words and confidence sliced through me, leaving only uncertainty and dread behind. He moved closer, his body in the way. You can battle it all you want. But it will be of no use. The prophecy has already decided your fate." His smile turned nasty, something terrible flaring in his eyes. Rachel, you will regret refusing to accept your fate. The results will be terrible. Luka and Mika's conflict had become intolerable. Whenever the three of us shared a room, I could feel it in the air, heavy and tangible. The competition was about me, not only who would head the pack. It was getting more and more difficult to overlook. Luka had grown more adamant, more certain that we were linked. The tie between us, he added, was real, not only about power or fate. Every look, every word, every touch let him make sure I was aware of it. He was all-consuming. I could not elude him. Then Mika showed up. Mika's intensity was unique. It wasn't about directly asserting me. It was about pushing limits, testing me, and finding out how far I would go before I broke. He didn't believe Luka, and that scepticism permeated all he did. Every touch deliberate, every talk with me a test, every interaction with me a test as if he were trying to determine what I would provide him. What I was ready to let. It was stifling. It was exciting. And it was ripping me apart. I didn't know how to play our odd dance, a risky game. Luka's eyes would fix on me and for a brief while I would experience this unshakeable draw. Mika's gaze would also catch mine, and the tension between us would change as if a switch had been flipped, leaving me with an uncomfortable sensation I didn't know how to fix. Luka and Mika were strolling a few feet behind me in rhythm today as I crossed the university quad. Their voices, quiet and tense, reached me. Their remarks were a blend of competition and... something more. It seemed as though they were competing to see who could have more of me without ever really stating it. Luka moved past me, his shoulder brushing mine, sending a unignorable thrill through me. When his eyes met mine, they had that unspoken claim. Whispering under his breath, his voice hoarse and menacing, "You're mine whether you acknowledge it or not," he said. My body reacted before my thoughts could catch up, my skin tingling with the heat of his touch. Mika was there, though, stepping into my way with a grin that sent a different sort of shiver down my back before I could think about it. You believe he's the only one who can assert you? Mika's speech was sombre, his eyes shining with something hazardous. Trying to keep my thoughts concentrated, I strolled across the campus the following morning, the crisp fall air nipping at my skin. But the reality was becoming more difficult to reject. The more I studied the cult, the more I saw that their intentions for me had nothing to do with liberty. They want power. They intended to use me as a tool to manipulate the Alpha Kings, hence I had no option but to surrender. Earlier that day, the letter I had gotten from Ymir's family sat heavy in my backpack. It had arrived with just a chilly, foreboding message, no explanation or warning. What had they delivered to me? What did they know about the truth I had spent my whole life running from, about my past? Lost in contemplation, I failed to see the figure coming towards me until it was too late. From behind, a cloaked figure crept towards me, fast vanishing into the throng after placing a letter into my hand. Staring at the package made my heart skip and sent a shiver down my back. The same emblem as the letter from Ymir's relatives sealed it. I opened it fast; the words within sent a jolt through me: "The Luna must embrace her fate, or the future will burn." Breathless, I was. Holding the letter from Ymir's family, the weight of its contents pushing against my chest made my hands tremble. Every word inside the letter looked to be meant to ruin what I believed I understood as I carefully unfurled the paper, which crinkled under my touch. I had hoped for responses, but this was beyond what I was ready for. Though every word seemed like a hammer hitting me from inside, the letter was only a few lines long. Ymir was never intended to be your name, Rachel. The actual goal of the Luna lineage is far darker than you have been taught to believe. The universe around me looked to freeze. The room was too silent, too still. But the words on the page never changed, my eyes skimming over them over and again. Reading the same material over, I attempted to grasp its meaning. The lineage. The Luna lineage. I had always knew there was something unique about me, something I could never really describe. Hearing it in black and white, in such frigid, detached language, made it all too true. Ymir... my name... it had never belonged to me. The actual goal of my ancestry. What goal? How long had I been living a deception? The room's walls seemed to be closing in on me, the air dense and oppressive. My heart raced in my chest. The Luna lineage. Those words' weight destroyed me. What had I been involved in all this time? Who was I turning into? Sinking to the ground, the letter falling from my hands and crumpling into a pile at my feet, my head whirled. Every bit of hope I had held onto, every conviction that I could discover freedom in this life, appeared to disintegrate to dust before me. Ymir was never meant for me. The awareness sliced deeper than I had anticipated. Who had I been all these years? And who was I meant to become into? The last line of the letter, nevertheless, really bothered me. The actual goal of the Luna lineage is much darker. I was unable to avoid it. It was impossible for me to disregard. The sect. My fate. It was all interwoven in me, and I didn't know how to resist it. I could not stop trembling. Though the letter lay on the floor discarded, its words seared into my head. What the Luna bloodline really aims for. Those words' meaning rang out in my mind, becoming louder and darker until I felt as like I was drowning in them. Trying to understand what I had just read, I walked back and forth across the room. But that was illogical. How could it even be? How could Ymir's folks, who had been my only family for so long, have concealed this from me? What were they getting me ready for? And why had they allowed me to remain uninformed? I paused at the window, my reflection gazing back at me in the glass. The lady gazing at me was unknown to me. I wasn't certain I ever had. The past I had believed to be my own, my life, my recollections, seemed false. What more had they concealed? What else was unknown to me? A tap on the door brought me back to reality. Too buried in my own perplexity and too afraid of the reality gnawing its way into my chest, I did not respond. The door creaked open, yet there he was. Luka Without waiting for me to ask him in, he entered, his presence filling the room and his gaze fixing on me with such intensity that it was almost suffocating. His look softened as he absorbed the chaos I had created of myself, suggesting he could feel the turmoil surrounding me. You look like you've seen a ghost, he said softly, his voice nearly too quiet for the storm inside me. My voice shaking, I confessed, "I... I don't know what to do any more." I had never been so lost, so little. Everything I believed I knew about myself had simply come undone. In two steps Luka crossed the room, his hand softly touching my arm, anchoring me in a manner I didn't want. But his warm, firm touch seemed to be all that kept me together. His low, intense voice said, "You don't have to do it alone." We will find a solution. We will solve this out. "Together."