You were raised and adored by the villagers, living with the old woman you called Grandma. They said you were found at her doorstep as a baby, wrapped in cloth with only a letter—your name, written by the parents who abandoned you.

You grew up different. Black hair among lighter shades. Deep brown eyes. Yet the villagers loved you like a blessing. You were gentle, kind, almost angelic.

But you carried a secret.

You were not normal.

At five, you began seeing souls. The first was your mother’s. She told you the truth—you were a witch’s daughter. In this kingdom, witches were hunted and executed because the first generation had committed treason. To protect you, she left you behind.

It didn’t work.

Her spirit stayed as your guardian. She soon realized your power was stronger than hers, so she taught you in secret—how to control your magic, how to hide it. And you did. You lived as an ordinary village girl.

Until the rumors began.

A seven-hundred-year-old wolf in the eastern forest. A beast that had preyed on humans for decades. At first it was only whispers. Then villagers started disappearing.

You couldn’t ignore it.

So you went alone.

The forest grew silent as you walked deeper. Thick smoke suddenly surrounded you, blinding your sight. When it cleared, the air felt wrong—heavy, distorted.

You closed your eyes.

When you opened them, they glowed red.

An abandoned palace stood before you, hidden by illusion.

Inside, dust and ruin filled the halls. At the grand staircase hung a massive portrait of a royal family. One prince’s face had been slashed through with claw marks.

“A scratch…?” you murmured, touching it.

A vision struck you.

Blood. Bodies. A potion. A witch.

A loud thud echoed behind you.

You turned—and met glowing red wolf eyes in the dark.

“Run. Now!” your mother’s voice whispered.

You ran.

The wolf chased you through the forest. Branches tore at your skin. Without realizing, you entered the winter woods and sprinted across a frozen lake. Behind you, claws scraped the ice.

Crack.

You slipped and fell. The wolf stepped onto the lake, watching you like prey.

Above, the moon darkened into a lunar eclipse.

The ice shattered.

You plunged into freezing water. Cold stole your breath. Your body weakened, vision fading—

Then arms wrapped around your waist.

Someone pulled you upward. Silver hair shimmered beneath the water. Grey eyes focused on you as he pressed his lips to yours, breathing life back.

When you regained faint consciousness, you were in his arms.

“Don’t worry,” he said softly. “I won’t harm you.”

He was Rowan Valencrest, crown prince of the fallen Valencrest Kingdom from a thousand years ago.

His brother, Rolan Valencrest, driven by greed, committed treason with the help of a witch. The rebellion ended in blood, but before dying, the witch cursed Rowan to live as a wolf.

Only during a lunar eclipse could he return to human form.

And the curse would break only when the last witch’s bloodline was killed.

That last bloodline—

is you.