Chapter 8 CHAPTER 8
Damian Blackwell had never been the type to lose control, not over women, not over his wolf, and definitely not over his thoughts. He was the Blackwells' bad boy for a reason.
But ever since that day in the lab, his mind had been hijacked by one name.
Luna Rivers.
He tried to ignore it, but his curiosity got the best of him; she's an interesting history topic hidden behind nonchalance. A part of him feared this part that wanted to know more about her, and he tried to drown it in gym workouts, whiskey, and meaningless texts from girls who would kill just to be seen with him.
But her scent clung to him wild, untamed, addictive.
Why did the gods choose to connect him with the curse? Why is he having a growing attraction to a known taboo that has been drummed into his ears since he was a child?
Is he suffering from his father's sins?
Every time he closed his eyes, he saw flashes of silver fur, trembling lips, and the faint glow of the moon against her fur.
She seemed not to be aware of the effects they had on each other, or maybe she has a good way of hiding it, he wondered deeply.
It wasn’t normal.
It wasn’t lust.
It was a bond.
AN ABNORMAL BOND
And it was driving him insane.
So, he started watching her.
At first, from a distance.
A quick glance in the hallway when he was surrounded by the soccer team boys who wanted to be his friends by all means. An unnoticed shadow outside the library and in the library. But soon, it became deeper, darker.
He knew her routes.
When she sat in the cafeteria near the window, he did not blink while he watched her; he did not want to miss a beat of her existence. She was always reading something she never seemed to finish.
How she bit her pen when she was lost in thought.
How she smiled only when she was alone. She seemed delusional, like she talked to herself a lot. Had a series of conversations with her inner being.
How she wore that same brown hoodie like armour.
He knew she walked home every evening through the old market street, cutting through the woods behind the school.
And every night, he followed on foot, unseen, silent.
Her guardian and her ghost.
Rogues had been moving closer to New Orleans lately. His father had increased patrols, but Damian could smell the taint in the air. Something dark was stirring. And every instinct in him screamed that Luna was the reason.
But why?
Did he activate something the night they mated under the moonlight?
That question pushed him to do what he wasn’t supposed to: research her bloodline and the curse.
He broke into the private archives of the Crescent Moon Council: old scrolls, sealed prophecies, and forbidden records of ancient clans.
And when he typed her surname—Rivers—into the database, he froze.
The screen flickered, and an old text appeared in blood-red letters:
“The Silver Line.”
Descendants of the Lost Moon.
Those who carry both gift and curse. When the Golden Blood unites with the Silver Flame, the heavens will tremble, and the bond will bring ruin.
He scrolled further, heart pounding.
Another prophecy was one his mother had whispered in her dreams:
The dark heir shall find his equal not in wealth or power, but in the one cursed by light. Together, they will end the reign of kings or begin an age of chaos. Their love will either save the packs or burn them all.
Two prophecies.
Two warnings.
One truth.
His mother also said,
When the golden heir binds with the cursed blood, the moon will fall and the empire will burn.”
Luna Rivers wasn’t just an outcast; she was the descendant of the Silver Pack, a bloodline wiped out 300 years ago for defying the Blackwells.
She was his family's weak point and must be eliminated.
Her ancestors were accused of heresy for using moon magic to alter fate itself. It was said that their Alpha had once loved a Blackwell heir, and their forbidden union ended in massacre. The Silver Pack was destroyed, their blood cursed by the Moon Goddess to never find peace again.
And now, history is repeating itself.
Damian’s hands trembled as he read. Every word felt like a dagger.
He was the golden heir.
She was the silver flame.
Their bond wasn’t just dangerous; it was apocalyptic.
He should’ve stayed away.
He should’ve broken the connection, warned his father, and done anything but want her.
But every time he saw her, every time her scent drifted near, his resolve shattered.
He found himself driving past her house at night. Watching her from the shadows as she tucked stray hair behind her ear while reading on her porch.
He told himself it was protection; the rogues were hunting something, and he couldn’t let them find her.
He also knew he needed to protect her from his father by all means.
But deep down, he knew the truth.
He wasn’t protecting her.
He was addicted to her.
She was his weakness and his destruction.
While deep in thought, his phone rang.
It was Lesley, he didn't tell her he wasn't coming back to New York because he never intended to stay in New Orleans.
He picked;
Lesley: Hey, sugar.
Damian: Yes.
Lesley: I miss you, baby. My sex toys are tired of me. When will you be back?
Damian: I'm not sure yet.
Lesley: Well, that's not a good response for me. I need you.
Damian, uninterested in the conversation and still in deep thoughts, said, “I need to go; I have a business call.’
Lesley heard the phone go beep at ones‘ She knew she needed to go get her man, so she booked a flight to New Orleans.
That night, as Damian watched her window glow faintly from across the street, his mother’s words echoed in his mind, words she’d spoken years ago when he was still a boy.
“When love feels like war, my son, you’ll know it’s the kind that changes worlds.”
Scoff “Love”? He mocked himself and stayed in denial, but deep down, he knew.
He finally understood.
And it terrified him.
Because he didn’t just want Luna Rivers.
He needed her.
Even if the universe itself burned for it.
How was he going to burn his whole lineage for a woman as ordinary as Luna Rivers?
He knew he was far from home, so he headed back towards the other end of Eden Forest to find his way home.
