Moon bound: the curse of Ashbourne

through the undergrowth like ghostly fingers brushing against bark and bone. Rowan moved carefully beneath the ancient canopy, her boots crunching softly on the carpet of fallen le

o block the bite of the wind. The cold was not just physical-it wa

trees and settling into Rowan's bones. The sound made her skin crawl. It was beautiful in its own way-wild, raw-but it reminded her of what Silas was. What he c

e something carved from the land itself. Moss and ivy crept up the sides, and low fog rolled over the fields surrounding i

ation threading through the night. The pull of the moon was strongest here. In

t the weight of watching eyes on her-pack members lingering in the shadows, some perched on stone steps, others leaning against trees. Their gazes cut through

oodlines had written it in fire and curse. And yet, here she was,

s. Not anymore. At least,

shed forward. She didn't have

clung to the thick wooden beams. A massive fireplace dominated one wall, its flames crackling low, casting flickers of amb

oom. "Sit," he said, voice clipped, measured. There was

round the edges of her jeans, grounding herself. Her magic stirred beneath her sk

ross from her. His gaze was sharp, but no longer burning with rag

ll me everything. Every detail. If I'm going to help yo

old. "The curse is tied to my bloodline," he began, his voice low. "Passed down from

ed, watching

spent years building rituals, routines, walls inside my mind. But it still gets through.

er chest at the confession, b

ens. And every time the moon reaches its peak, someone in my pack dies. Always.

a whisper. "Last moon, it

as, but she knew the weight of loss. She kn

es with her. "This curse won't end quietly. If we break it

r voice steady. "Then we

moment, something unreadable flicker

your magic can f

o try. Because if we don't-if we let this curse ke

adows across his face, making him look both old

holding. This wasn't just about magic. It was about trust.

she was walking into. But one thing