ELEANOR'S POV

I kept hearing the whispers in the wind, and it was getting louder. My heart began beating fast and my body was sweaty. I tried to focus but the voices were loud, it was saying: “The bloodline died two decades ago, but I bled and the moon responded.”

The voices sounded too loud, too real that I ran. The scene changed, and the next thing I saw terrified me the more—It was a burning village. Flames roared around me, swallowing the village in blinding heat and chaos. The sky was red and smoke was choking the stars.

And then I saw it—it was right in front of me.

A colossal wolf stood before me. Its fur was the colour of ash and its eyes glowed silver like a mirror reflecting a forgotten past. It stood bold and tall, its gaze pierced my very own soul—and yet… It whimpered. It sounded so raw, so broken that it rattled something deep in my chest. It was as if it called me for help, it needed me.

It stepped closer. Every step was as if the earth was trembling beneath its paws—not to attack, but to plead. Its gaze was locked with mine, and it lunged.

I screamed and woke up. I was drenched in sweat and sheets twisted around me like chains.

It's the dream again.

I reached out for my phone and it was midnight— a blood moon. It was my birthday, the day I turned twenty. I got up from my bed to get water but then, something sparked in me. A distant howl cut through the night like a blade. It was low, guttural and ancient.

“Did you hear that?” Mother's voice called from the next room.

“Yes, I hear it,” I replied, my voice shaky.

“Are you having the dreams again?” She asked, her eyes filled with concern as she opened my door. She must have sensed my struggle in my sleep.

I nodded. “It's the same dream again, the same whispers and the same wolf. I’m starting to think that something is wrong with me and I need answers, mother.”

“Fate knows how to unfold itself, my dear,” she said quietly.

She just knows how to speak in parables. But that was not what I wanted at this moment. I needed something more than riddles and old sayings. I needed answers—I needed to know the truth.

The wolf howled again, this time its tone was commanding, raw and closer. It had been over a century since a howl like that had been heard. I felt like it called me, and I needed to answer. I felt drawn and unable to resist.

I threw on a jacket over my pyjamas and stepped outside like I had been compelled. I felt the heavy air on my face. It was heavy with something I couldn't name. It was as if danger and magic rolled in one. My bare feet moved towards the Moonfire forest.

“Eleanor!” Julia's voice snapped behind me. I stopped and looked back.

She stood at the edge of the porch, her eyes wide and hair messy from sleep. She didn't utter a word—she just shook her head slowly like a silent plea: Don't go.

Everyone had heard the howl; they were terrified, hiding, locking their windows, whispering of old legends. But not me—I wasn't running away. I was running towards something, and I knew deep down I’d run to the answers I needed.

My bare feet slapped against the cold earth as I slipped past the iron gates of our pack and into the thick hush of the Moonfire Forest. The trees swayed as if they were whispering secrets to one another. My breath came in clouds, and my pyjamas clung to my skin.

I had no idea why I was drawn here. I walked with no clue but my senses were certain that I needed to be there.

The forest was alive tonight. The shadows seemed to breathe. The blood moonlight filtered through the land like a canopy, lighting the path like it had been waiting for centuries.

And then—I tripped.

“Damm it,” I hissed under my breath. I hit the ground hard, my hands scraping against roots and wet moss. My knee throbbed. But it was my palm that stung.

I felt the warmth of my blood. I was cut and a deep gash bled freely down my wrist. The blood pooled and dripped… right onto the roots of an ancient tree.

The bark of the tree shuddered.

I froze.

The moment the first drop of blood touched it, the air thickened. The moon above grew brighter, almost angrier. The howl echoed again—but this time it wasn't distant. It was here. Close. I felt it all around me and this time I was terrified. My heart began racing and I thought maybe I’d meet my doom on my birthday.

A wind tore through the branches, and suddenly I saw it—the same wolf from my dreams.

It was massive, silver-eyed, regal and broken at once. Its fur shimmered like steel. It stood just beyond the clearing, half-shadowed, half-seen.

It didn’t growl or attack. It just stood there, whimpering in pity.

The wolf lowered its head slowly and solemnly as though in mourning or reverence.

My chest tightened. The whispers returned, louder than ever.

“The bloodline died two decades ago, but she bled... and the moon responded.”

I stared at the wolf, my heart pounding. It took a step towards me, then another and another. The moment it reached the bloodstained roots, the ground pulsed beneath us like a heartbeat. It stood right in front of me.

It seemed like it needed my help so I tightened my heart and moved closer to it. Maybe I was drawn to the forest to save this lone wolf.

"Who are you?" I whispered, unable to find my voice any stronger than that.

The wolf raised its head and looked into my eyes. Something ancient shimmered behind those silver eyes. I stretched my hand and touched the wolf, and suddenly there was a surge of energy. It shifted to its human form.

He was a tall man, his eyes were storm grey and they glowed just like the moon's crescent. He was bare-chested, and I could see how fine he was. His body was well structured—his broad shoulders, sharp jawline, muscular but not bulky build, everything about him looked divine. His scar on his ribs was definitely a mark that showed that he was forged from war.

I had never seen a god in a human form.

His eyes locked with mine. It was as if there was a magnetic force in the field as the air stood still. Even time itself was on hold at that moment.

“Who are you?” I asked again, my voice soft.

“You are real,” he said. His voice was smooth just like thunder before it broke. His eyes glowed, and I could hear voices slicing through my heart like blades saying, “He’s your fate. Your doom or salvation.”

“I’ve spent my whole life searching for you and the blood moon brought you to me,” he said. This time he looked at me with so much certainty and familiarity in his eyes. It was as if he knew me, and something in me felt connected to him.

Is this still a dream? Am I awake?

Thoughts like this filled my head at that moment. My mind was racing. I have a man who looks like a god in my arms—handsome, his eyes beautiful and seductive, his body was built like a panther in human form, his voice was soft and gentle and his lips moved like he wanted me. His wolf was like a myth—it was something I heard about in stories of legends. He was in my dreams, but now he is in my arm, fallen and broken, telling me I was real. Now I am stuck in time trying to know if I was still trapped in my world of dreams or if I was real.

“Wha—what are you?” I asked again. This time my lips trembled and my hands shook as I ran it through this raven black hair.

“I am your fated mate, and I need you to break my curse.”

There was a pause. The wind became still. Even the trees and birds became silent at once.

Fate. Mate. Curse. These three words sent my soul straight to hell where I’d burn ruthlessly. The three words carved themselves into my soul and my chest tightened. I felt a warm tear down my cheeks and my tongue tasted the salt. Then I realised that I wasn't dreaming—it was my nightmare coming to life.

“You have to claim me and break my curse, I’ve suffered long enough. I need my soul to be free,” he said again. This time the voices in my head became louder that I didn't know what to focus on. I stood up, moved back with chills down my spine. Words were heavy but I found a way to say it.

“I am Eleanor, and I don't need a mate with a curse.”