Luna Everleigh's POV
***
Kael had been watching me.
Not just in passing, not just as another outsider among his people.
No—his gaze was sharp, calculating, lingering on me for longer than necessary.
I felt it now, even as I walked through the heart of the kingdom, the midday sun casting long shadows against the cobbled streets. The weight of his scrutiny pressed against my spine, and when I turned, sure enough, there he was—leaning against a stone archway, arms crossed, eyes unreadable.
I stiffened but didn't look away.
He smirked, as if he could sense my unease.
"You're still here," he mused, pushing off the wall and making his way toward me.
I lifted my chin. "Clearly."
His gaze flickered, scanning me like he was searching for cracks, for weaknesses. "Tell me, Luna… do you truly believe you belong here?"
The question sent a sharp pang through me.
I didn't answer.
Kael took a slow step closer, his presence imposing but not aggressive. "You're a curiosity," he murmured. "And I don't trust curiosities."
I exhaled. "I'm not here to prove anything to you, Kael."
"Maybe not." His smirk faded slightly. "But sooner or later, you'll have to prove it to them."
His meaning was clear—the pack, the advisors, those who still saw me as nothing more than a human interloper.
I swallowed hard.
Kael tilted his head. "I wonder… is it fate that brought you to Rhydian? Or just a well-crafted lie?"
The accusation stung more than it should have.
Because deep down, wasn't that the same question I had been asking myself?
—
Later that evening, I found myself in the library.
The towering bookshelves stretched toward the vaulted ceiling, the scent of old parchment and ink thick in the air. I traced my fingers along the spines of ancient tomes, searching for something—anything—that could help me understand what I was.
Then I saw it.
A book, older than the rest, its leather cover worn with age. The title was nearly illegible, but as I pulled it free and flipped through the pages, the words sent a shiver down my spine.
The Marked Ones.
A story—no, a legend—about a human bound to a wolf. A connection forged not just by fate, but by something older, something lost to time.
My fingers tightened around the pages.
Could this be the answer?
Before I could read further, a shadow loomed over me.
I turned sharply—
And froze.
Rhydian stood there, watching me, his presence a storm barely restrained.
"What are you doing here?" His voice was low, quiet—but not unkind.
I hesitated, then held up the book. "Looking for answers."
Something flickered in his expression. "And did you find any?"
I bit my lip. "I'm not sure yet."
He stepped closer, close enough that I could feel the warmth of him, the raw energy he always carried.
"You're searching for something that no book can tell you," he murmured, reaching out. His fingers brushed mine, just barely.
The contact sent a spark up my arm, like the touch of fire against ice.
I inhaled sharply.
Rhydian didn't move away.
Neither did I.
—
To be continued...