Bound by Moonlight

Bound by Moonlight

Blossom · Ongoing · 105.3k Words

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Introduction

When Aria stumbles across Kael while trespassing into Nightclaw territory to gather rare herbs, the pull between them is instant—and undeniable. But their packs are enemies. Her Alpha would never allow it. And Kael has sworn off the bond that fate once used to destroy someone he loved.

Yet every moon draws them closer.

And when a dark force threatens to wipe out both packs, Aria and Kael may have no choice but to either fight fate—or surrender to it.

Chapter 1

ARIA POV

The air smelled like rain and blood.

Aria crouched beside the mossy tree line, the soft undergrowth damp beneath her knees. Her fingers were stained green and brown from the herbs she’d gathered—comfrey, yarrow, and a few stubborn wildflowers growing between the roots of an old elm. But it wasn’t the herbs making her heart pound.

It was the border. She was too close.

Aria's breath quickened as she realized how close she had ventured. The border was a dangerous place, a no-man's land where the peaceful realm of her herb-gathering ended and the unknown began. She could sense the change in the air, a tangible weight to it that spoke of secrets and hidden dangers. The sweet scent of the flowers she held was now overpowered by the iron-rich smell of blood. It was a warning, a sign that something was wrong, and her heart raced as she considered turning back. But something compelled her to stay, to discover what lay beyond.

The trees loomed taller here, their branches twisting and knotting together to form an impenetrable wall. Their gnarled roots twisted through the soft earth, mirroring the veins of the herbs she had carefully plucked from the forest floor. Aria felt a connection to this place, as if the very life force that flowed through the plants also coursed through her veins. Yet, she knew this was not her domain.

With a final, cautious glance, Aria rose, brushing the damp earth from her knees. She turned away from the border, her steps slow and deliberate as she retraced her path back into the familiar woods. But even as she moved away, she couldn't shake the feeling that something watched her from the shadows, its presence as heavy as the rain-laden air.

Her father would be furious if he knew she’d wandered past the hunting paths, this near the shimmering silver line that cut through the forest like a scar. This was the edge of Moonfang land, and beyond it... Nightclaw.

Enemy territory. But Aria didn’t care. Not tonight. Not after the dreams.

For the past three full moons, she’d woken breathless, sweat-soaked, and tangled in her sheets, haunted by a presence she couldn’t explain. A wolf — huge, golden-eyed — always watching her from across a clearing. He never approached, never spoke. Just stood there, silent. Waiting.

And tonight, she’d stopped resisting the pull.

Something inside her — something old and quiet and feral—was done pretending she didn’t feel it. That she didn’t ache for answers. That she hadn’t been drawn here on purpose.

The forest thinned just ahead. Through the trees, she saw it: a faint glow along the earth, like moonlight spilled into the cracks of the world. The border. The air buzzed with static. With magic.

She stepped forward — just one step — and her wolf surged beneath her skin, alert, ears forward. Not afraid. Not exactly. It was more like recognition. Like instinct.

A warning... or a welcome. That’s when she heard it. A howl — low, guttural, primal.

It was no ordinary call. It vibrated through her chest, wrapped around her ribs, curled tight in her gut. Her breath caught, frozen in the back of her throat. Her wolf pressed closer, eyes wide behind hers, alert with something like hunger.

The howl came from the other side. Nightclaw.

Aria reached out, steadying herself against the bark of the nearest tree. The rough texture grounded her. Just barely.

She shouldn’t be here. She should run back, cross the fields, and sneak in through the back of the apothecary before anyone notices. But she didn’t move. Because for the first time in weeks... it felt like someone was calling her.

Not by name, but by something deeper. By the bond. Her mate.

She hadn’t told anyone. Not even Lyra. Not yet. Her sister would panic, and Aria didn’t have answers — just instinct. Just the quiet certainty that her mate existed, and he was across that cursed line.

She shivered. Not out of fear. Out of knowing.

KAEL POV

From the shadows, Kael watched her.

She was exactly as he remembered from that first moment three moons ago — wild red curls tumbling down her back, skin lit by silver dusk, eyes narrowed like she could see into souls.

Aria. His mate.

He hadn’t planned to follow her tonight. He’d told himself to stay away. The packs couldn’t afford another war — not when they were still licking wounds from the last.

But his wolf had other ideas. And when her scent hit the wind — rose and fresh rain — he’d moved before he even realized it.

Now she stood not ten paces from the border, one foot nearly across.

His chest ached. His hands clenched at his sides.

She didn’t know.

She didn’t know he was the one her wolf had been dreaming of. That the pull in her chest was tied to his heartbeat. That the bond had already begun to root in his bones.

But he knew. The moment he scented her that fateful night — he knew.

But how could he explain it to her? How could he tell her who he was?

Nightclaw’s Alpha. The son of the man the Moonfang blamed for murdering their last Alpha. The heir to a blood feud neither of them had started. He stepped back deeper into the trees, heart thudding. If she saw him now — if she knew who he was — she’d run.

She wouldn’t believe the bond. She’d call it manipulation. War tactics. Or worse—lies.

So he watched her. And he waited.

ARIA POV

The howl faded into the night, but the weight of it lingered in Aria’s bones — heavy, warm, and utterly inescapable. She finally stepped back from the border, chest heaving with quiet breaths, her fingers trembling slightly at her sides.

“I’m not ready,” she whispered to no one. To the trees. To the shadows. To the ghost of the voice that hadn’t spoken yet.

She could feel him. Whoever he was.

Not just in the echo of the howl, but in the way her pulse slowed and steadied, like her body recognized something her mind refused to. She didn’t know his name or his face, but she knew this much: He was Nightclaw. And that terrified her.

Not because she feared him. But because part of her — deep and instinctive and wild — had never felt safer than in the heart of that howl. Like she belonged to it.

And that was the most dangerous thing of all.

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