In the shadow of a forgotten village, a hidden war rages- one that will soon drag Kiera Bellamy into a world she never believed existed. After the sudden death of her father, Kiera returns to her childhood home only to discover unsettling truths about her heritage and a family bound by ancient blood oaths. As a mysterious werewolf attacks the village, Kiera is thrust into a deadly game between rival packs, each seeking control of her family's legacy. Caught between betrayal, forbidden love, and her awakening power, Kiera must decide who to trust- and what she's willing to sacrifice to survive beneath the silver moon.
Chapter 1 1
Kiera Bellamy hadn't planned on coming back. The quiet streets of her childhood village, hidden deep in the rolling hills, had been a place she'd left behind years ago-vowing never to return. Her memories were tangled in the faded walls of the house where she grew up, each corner holding the echoes of a life she'd chosen to forget. But life had a way of dragging people back to where they began. Her father's unexpected death-a stroke, the doctors said-had left Kiera no choice but to return to the place she'd run from.
The winding road through the forest seemed narrower now, the trees leaning in as though watching her approach. The sun had just started to dip below the horizon, casting an orange glow over the mist that clung to the ground. Kiera felt the familiar weight of unease settle over her chest as the village came into view. The same village she'd once thought would be a prison for the rest of her life. She had left when she turned eighteen, eager to escape the suffocating quiet and the overbearing eyes of small-town life. Now, at twenty-six, she found herself back in the same place, but it didn't feel like home anymore.
Her old home stood at the edge of the village, a rambling Victorian house that had been in her family for generations. The garden was overgrown, the ivy crawling up the stone walls like an infection. Kiera hesitated as she reached for the front door, her hand brushing against the brass knocker that had once been the symbol of warmth and belonging. It felt cold to the touch now. She pushed the door open and stepped inside.
The air was stale, untouched for months. Dust hung in the air like particles suspended in time, settling on the furniture and the walls. A sharp scent of mildew mixed with something else-something familiar, yet unsettling. The house had been abandoned for too long. The furniture, draped in sheets, looked like a museum exhibit of a life left behind. Every room felt empty, as if the house itself had given up.
Her father's study was at the far end of the house, the door ajar. Kiera stepped inside, her eyes immediately drawn to the clutter of papers and books scattered across the desk. Her father had been a private man, a man who rarely let anyone into his world. Kiera had never been close to him, not after her mother died when she was ten. He had become a ghost of a parent-more a figurehead in her life than a source of comfort. She had no love for him, but she couldn't help but feel the twinge of something lost. Something she hadn't been able to reclaim even after all these years.
The journal was easy to find, tucked under a pile of letters. Kiera's fingers hesitated as they brushed against the worn leather cover. Her father had never been a man of words, but the journal was a window to a part of him she had never seen. She opened it slowly, the pages yellowed with age. The handwriting was small and tight, the words almost cramped. Kiera skimmed over the pages, her eyes catching fragments of sentences that made little sense.
*"The pack grows restless. The bloodline must be protected."*
*"Tonight, the moon is full. I feel the change within me, though I fight it."*
*"She must not know. It is better this way. The curse will not claim her."*
The words danced on the edge of Kiera's understanding, each line more cryptic than the last. Her fingers tightened around the journal, an uneasy feeling creeping up her spine. What had her father been hiding? Why had he kept this from her?
A noise from outside broke her concentration-a rustling in the bushes followed by the distinct crack of a twig snapping underfoot. Kiera froze, the journal slipping from her hands and falling to the floor with a soft thud. She hadn't heard anyone approach, and she wasn't expecting visitors. Her pulse quickened. She glanced toward the window, but the fading light made it impossible to see who-or what-was out there.
She moved cautiously to the window, her breath held in her chest. The garden was still, the trees lining the edge of the property swaying gently in the evening breeze. But the shadows in the distance seemed darker than usual. The forest beyond her house had always been a place of mystery, where the trees grew thick and the paths twisted and turned. Kiera had been told stories of the woods when she was a child, tales of wolves and spirits that roamed at night. She hadn't believed them, of course. It was just local folklore, designed to keep children from wandering too far. But as she stood at the window now, her unease deepened.
A flash of movement caught her eye-a figure darting between the trees. It was gone before Kiera could get a clear look. Her heart thudded in her chest.
Maybe it was just a deer. Or a trespasser. There was no reason to be alarmed. And yet, the unease lingered, gnawing at the edge of her thoughts. She turned back to the journal, but something had shifted in the room, a palpable tension in the air that hadn't been there before. The house felt too quiet, the walls too close. She picked up the journal again, determined to make sense of it, but her mind was clouded.
The doorbell rang, sharp and sudden, breaking the silence. Kiera jumped. Her instincts screamed at her to hide, to lock the door and retreat upstairs, but she quickly pushed those thoughts away. There was no reason to be afraid. She wasn't a child anymore.
When she opened the door, the man standing on the porch was a stranger-tall, with dark hair and piercing green eyes that seemed to gleam in the twilight. His clothes were simple, worn jeans and a jacket, but there was something about him that felt out of place. His presence was almost too commanding, like a shadow lingering at the edge of her vision.
"Are you Kiera Bellamy?" His voice was deep, steady, and when he spoke her name, it sent a shiver down her spine.
"Yes. Can I help you?" She couldn't hide the suspicion in her voice.
"My name is Finn," he said, his gaze never leaving hers. "I'm here because your father sent for me before he passed."
Kiera felt a knot form in her stomach. Her father had never mentioned anyone by name. She had no idea who this man was, and the strange way he looked at her made her uneasy.
"I'm sorry, but I don't understand," she said, her voice low. "My father didn't mention anyone coming by."
Finn's expression softened slightly, as if he were considering how best to explain. "Your father wasn't the man you thought he was, Kiera. He's... He was involved in something much larger than you know."
Kiera took a step back, instinctively reaching for the door to close it. "What are you talking about? I don't know you, and I don't have time for whatever this is."
Finn raised a hand in a gesture of peace. "I know this is hard to believe. But you need to hear what I have to say. It's about your father's death-and it's about you."
Her heart skipped. "About me?"
"You don't know it yet, but you're at the center of something ancient. And you're not safe here. Not anymore."
Kiera's mind raced. Her father had died of a stroke. There had been no foul play, no indication of anything more sinister. But something about Finn's words felt...true. Like a door had been opened in her mind, and she could feel the faint echo of something she couldn't place.
She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. "What do you want from me?"
Finn hesitated, then stepped closer, his voice lowering. "I want to help you, Kiera. Your father made me promise to protect you."
Before she could respond, there was another sound-this time, it was unmistakable. A long, low howl carried through the air from the forest. It was the kind of sound that chilled the blood, an animal's cry that was anything but natural.
Kiera's pulse spiked, and she instinctively looked at Finn for an explanation. His face had gone hard, his eyes narrowing.
"It's starting," he muttered under his breath. "We don't have much time."
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