The moon hung high in the sky, a sliver of silver light that bathed the quiet village in an ethereal glow. A cool breeze whispered through the trees, carrying with it an omen—one that would forever alter the fate of the land.
In a small, crumbling cottage at the edge of the woods, a woman screamed in agony. Her name was Maelis, and she was laboring in the throes of a dangerous birth. The midwives, trembling, worked frantically at her side, their faces pale with fear. Maelis had already lost two children, and the very thought of another death was enough to send chills down their spines.
But Maelis did not fear death.
She had been prepared for this night for many years.
With a final scream, a baby girl was born into the world—Layla. Her eyes, though not yet fully open, glowed faintly, like twin stars, piercing the darkness. The midwives gasped, whispering among themselves, their eyes wide with disbelief. This child was not like any other. There was something… ancient about her, a power that pulsed beneath her skin like the very heartbeat of the earth.
Across the room, the door creaked open, and in stepped a figure that cast a shadow even in the pale light of the moon.
Catherine, Luna of the White Shen Pack, stood tall and regal, her presence suffocating. Behind her were two others—men cloaked in shadow, their eyes gleaming with dark intent.
"She's here," Catherine murmured, her voice cold, betraying no emotion as she gazed at the newborn. "The prophecy has come true."
The midwives bowed their heads, trembling in her presence. They knew who she was—knew what she represented. And they knew why she had come.
Maelis, her face drawn with exhaustion, locked eyes with the Luna. She had long suspected the truth—the truth that would destroy her family and her pack. The prophecy had been whispered for years, a secret only the most powerful knew.
Layla would be the one to heal the broken, to bring death to life, and to never be defeated. She would be the greatest weapon in the world—a weapon that could shatter the very balance of power.
But there was more. Maelis's eyes flickered to her husband, Rhys, standing in the corner, his expression unreadable. The father of this child was no longer a man who could be trusted.
Rhys had known. He had always known. The prophecy was his to keep hidden, for he had plotted its concealment with Catherine—his lover.
Catherine stepped closer to the bed, her eyes narrowing as she reached out to touch Layla's tiny, glowing hand. "The Moon Goddess has given you a rare gift, little one," she whispered, her voice filled with both reverence and malice. "But no gift comes without a price."
And with that, the decision was made.
That very night, Rhys, Catherine, and the two shadowed figures took matters into their own hands. The council members—those who knew of the prophecy—would be silenced, for no one could stand in the way of their plot. They would kill them all. And Maelis, already weak from childbirth, would fall ill, her life drained by a sickness so terrible that not even the Moon Goddess herself could save her.
As Catherine left the room, her heart heavy with the weight of the prophecy's truth, she glanced back at Layla, the infant she would one day use as a pawn.
"I will raise you to be my weapon," she promised softly. "And your father will never know you live. Not until it is too late."
In the coming years, the world would tremble at Layla's power, and those who once loved her would find themselves destroyed by the very thing they had tried to bury.