Chapter 1: The Eclipse Child

LIRA

The moon shouldn’t have been that dark.

It hung low, smeared in shadows—silent, watching. My skin prickled with the familiar sense of being seen, judged by something far beyond this world. The same unsettling feeling I had every year when the eclipse returned. My eclipse.

“Lira!”

I winced at the urgency in my best friend Kora’s voice. I turned away from the clearing where the moonlight barely touched the earth. Kora pushed through the tall grass, her deep brown hair a mess around her face, her golden eyes wide with worry.

“There you are! The Elders are asking for you—again.”

I sighed. Of course they were. They always wanted something. Questions, stares, whispered conversations when they thought I wasn’t listening. The eclipse child. The unshifted one. The prophecy. The words followed me everywhere.

"Let them wait," I muttered, brushing my fingers against the bark of a twisted tree. "They'll say the same things they always do. Ask the same questions."

Kora grabbed my wrist, her grip surprisingly firm. “No, Lira. It’s different this time. They’re talking about him.”

I froze.

"Him."

Caius Vexmoor.

The name was a cold gust down my spine. Alpha of the Grimhowl Clan. Ruthless. Unyielding. The reason our pack didn’t wander too close to the northern borders. I’d heard the stories—the Wolf of the North, they called him. Said his wolf was as black as a starless night, his eyes silver like a blade’s edge. Said he didn’t hesitate to tear apart his enemies.

"What about him?" I asked, though I wasn’t sure I wanted the answer.

Kora bit her lip."Rumors. They think Grimhowl is preparing for something. And the Elders… they think it has to do with you."

Me.

Of course, it always came back to me. The girl who had never shifted. The girl they couldn’t quite understand, the one who was born under the rarest of circumstances. At nineteen, I should have shifted years ago. The others had done it when they were younger, their wolves bursting forth like wild things eager to be free. But mine had never come. I had waited. Hopelessly. And yet, the wolf never came.

I could feel the weight of the Elders’ eyes on me—their expectations, their silent judgments, and the ever-growing pressure of the prophecy that haunted my every step. They believed I was meant for something greater. But I didn’t believe them. I didn’t believe in fate, not anymore. Not after all the years of waiting.

“Do you think it’s true?” I asked, my voice unsteady. “That Grimhowl’s preparing for something... and that it involves me?”

Kora’s grip on my wrist tightened, her gaze hardening. “I don’t know. But the Elders are worried.”

I felt a rush of anger flood my veins, but it wasn’t directed at Kora. It was directed at them—the Elders, the pack, the world that had always looked at me like I was some kind of puzzle to be solved. Like I was broken.

Kora’s face softened, but there was a certain resignation in her eyes. She knew me better than anyone, knew my frustrations, knew how long I’d struggled to come to terms with what I was—or, rather, what I wasn’t.

“They just think you have a role to play. They think—” She paused, searching for the right words. “They think you are the role. But I don’t believe that. I never have.”

I turned away, pacing restlessly through the tall grass, unable to keep still. “What if they’re right, though? What if everything I’ve been avoiding… what if it’s the truth? That I’m meant to do something, meant to be part of something that I don’t even understand?”

Kora was silent for a moment, the air between us thick with the weight of the question. When she spoke again, her voice was gentle but firm. “Lira, I don’t know what’s going to happen. But I do know this: you’re not meant to be anyone’s puppet. Not the Elders, not Caius, not anyone. You get to choose what path you walk.”

I stopped pacing, her words settling over me like a blanket of warmth, yet there was still a coldness gnawing at the back of my mind.

“I don’t even know what to do anymore,” I admitted, my voice breaking slightly. 

Kora stepped closer, placing her hands on my shoulders, a comforting weight that anchored me to the present. Her gaze softened, and she spoke with quiet conviction. “You won’t be alone, Lira. I’ll be here. I’ll help you figure it out. Whatever happens, you don’t have to face it on your own.”

I nodded, grateful for her words, but my heart still felt heavy. Something about this night felt wrong, like the world was shifting in ways I couldn’t understand. And even though Kora was beside me, even though she had always been my rock, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was standing on the edge of something terrible.

“We should go,” Kora said gently, squeezing my shoulders before letting go. “They’re waiting. The Elders will want to speak to you. You don’t have to listen to them, but they’ll be furious if you don’t show up.”

I nodded reluctantly, but my eyes found the moon once more. It was still wrong, dimmer than I’d ever seen it. It wasn’t just the eclipse. It was as if the entire world had gone quiet, holding its breath, waiting for something. And I couldn’t help but wonder if the worst was yet to come.

“Alright,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “Let’s go.”

And as we walked back toward the village, the shadows of the trees stretching long and twisted in the moonlight, I wondered what path I was about to walk—and whether it would be one I could survive.