Chapter 1: The Crimson Birth (Elira's POV)
The first thing Elira remembered was blood—hot, sticky, running down her thighs as her mother screamed into the void. The midwives whispered of omens and gods, but Elira only knew pain. Born beneath the Blood Moon, cursed by ancient tongues, her existence was feared even by those who loved her.
She was sixteen the first time the curse claimed someone she loved. Her best friend Mirael fell into the river, pulled by something unseen. They found her body three days later—eyes wide, lips parted as though whispering secrets to the dark.
Elira had stopped dreaming after that.
She lived in a village carved between black mountains and haunted woods, where the stars never quite aligned. People smiled but never truly looked at her. Even her father—the chieftain—kept her hidden, ashamed of the daughter that made shadows grow longer.
Then the soldiers came.
Led by a silver-haired wolf prince, eyes cold as moonlight, they ransacked her home in the name of the Crown. Her village was accused of blood witchcraft. Elira was taken in chains.
In the cage cart, she saw him again—the prince who ordered her capture.
He stared. Not with hatred. Not with fear.
With recognition.