Chapter 4: The Hidden Message

The tension in the air was palpable as I stared down at the crumpled note in my hand. The words scrawled across the paper in that jagged handwriting felt like they were etched into my mind, a constant reminder that I was being watched—targeted.

You were warned. Now, suffer the consequences.

The thought sent another chill down my spine, but it was quickly replaced by a surge of anger. I wasn’t about to let whoever was behind this terrorize me or my pack.

But the question still loomed—what did it all mean? The symbol in the dirt, the cryptic notes... what were they trying to tell me?

My thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door. I hadn’t even noticed how tightly I’d been clutching the note until I heard the soft rap and felt the sharp edge of the paper digging into my palm.

I quickly shoved the note into my pocket, taking a deep breath to steady myself.

“Sera,” came Lysa’s voice from the other side, “we need to talk.”

I opened the door, meeting her concerned gaze. “Come in.”

She stepped inside, her eyes scanning my room before settling back on me.

“I’ve been thinking about that symbol we found,” she began, not wasting any time. “It’s familiar, Sera. I know I’ve seen it somewhere before.”

My pulse quickened. “Where?”

Lysa hesitated, her brow furrowing as she tried to recall. “It was in one of the old books in the pack’s library.

Something about ancient symbols and their meanings. I remember it because it was part of a larger section on... on curses.”

The word hung in the air between us, heavy with implication. A curse? My thoughts raced. Could this all be connected to the prophecy that had haunted my life?

“We need to find that book,” I said, determination flaring in my chest. “If there’s even a chance it could explain what’s going on, we have to know.”

Lysa nodded. “I’ll help you search. But Sera... if this is really about a curse, it could be dangerous.”

“Everything about this situation is dangerous,” I replied, heading toward the door. “But sitting around doing nothing isn’t going to make it any less so.”

We made our way to the pack’s library, a quiet, dusty room filled with shelves that seemed to groan under the weight of centuries of history.

The scent of old leather and parchment enveloped us as we stepped inside, the dim light filtering through narrow windows casting long shadows across the floor.

I started toward the section where the older books were kept, Lysa close behind. “Do you remember what the book looked like?” I asked, scanning the spines for anything that might stand out.

“It was old,” Lysa said thoughtfully. “The cover was dark, almost black, with faded gold lettering.

I think it was called ‘Legends of the Shadowed Moon’ or something like that.”

“Here,” I said, pulling a book from the shelf that matched her description. The cover was worn, the title barely legible, but it was clear this was a book that had seen many years and many hands.

I opened it carefully, flipping through the yellowed pages until I found what we were looking for.

“There,” Lysa said, pointing to a page that depicted a symbol eerily similar to the one we’d found. It was slightly different, but the resemblance was unmistakable.

My eyes scanned the text beside it, the words filling me with a growing sense of unease. “This symbol is called the Mark of the Shadowed Moon,” I read aloud.

“It’s said to be an ancient curse, placed upon those who seek to defy fate or disrupt the natural order of the pack. The mark is a warning—a sign that the bearer is being watched by forces beyond their control.”

Lysa’s face paled. “Sera, this sounds like... like it’s connected to the prophecy about you.”

I swallowed hard. It was too close to be a coincidence. But what did it mean? Was someone using this curse against me to prevent me from uncovering the truth? Or was there something even darker at play?

As I turned the page, my heart skipped a beat. There, beneath the description of the symbol, was a passage about the curse’s origins.

“The curse is said to be linked to the first Alpha of the Silverwood Pack,” I continued, my voice trembling slightly.

“It was used as a means of control, ensuring that those who were chosen to lead would do so according to the will of the pack’s ancestors.”

“The first Alpha?” Lysa echoed, her voice filled with disbelief. “But that was centuries ago. How could this still be affecting us now?”

I shook my head, the pieces of the puzzle still too scattered to make sense of. “I don’t know. But if this curse is connected to the prophecy, then it means that my rejection as Luna was part of something much bigger than we realized.”

“Do you think... do you think whoever is behind the attacks is trying to keep the prophecy from coming true?” Lysa asked.

“Maybe,” I said, closing the book with a heavy sigh. “Or maybe they’re trying to force it to happen. Either way, we need to be prepared for whatever comes next.”

As we left the library, I couldn’t shake the feeling that we were running out of time. The curse, the attacks, the prophecy—they were all converging, leading us toward something that none of us were ready for. And the worst part was, I still didn’t know who was pulling the strings.

That evening, the packhouse was unusually quiet. The tension was almost suffocating, the sense of unease hanging over us like a storm cloud waiting to break.

Even the usual chatter around the dinner table was subdued, everyone too on edge to engage in the usual banter.

I barely touched my food, my mind still reeling from everything we’d discovered. The Mark of the Shadowed Moon, the curse, the connection to the first Alpha—it was all too much. But there was no time to dwell on it. Not when lives were at stake.

After dinner, I retreated to my room, hoping to find some semblance of peace in the solitude. But the moment I stepped inside, I knew something was wrong. The air felt different, colder, as if the very room was holding its breath.

My heart pounded as I cautiously approached the bed, where a small, folded piece of paper lay on the pillow. Dread coiled in my stomach as I picked it up, unfolding it with trembling hands.

The message was short, but the meaning was clear:

You didn’t listen. Now, someone else will pay.

I barely had time to process the words before a blood-curdling scream echoed through the packhouse, followed by the sound of something crashing to the ground. I was out the door in an instant, racing down the hallway toward the source of the commotion.

Lysa and several other pack members were already there, surrounding one of the guest rooms. I pushed my way through the crowd, my heart in my throat as I reached the doorway.

The scene inside was chaotic. Furniture had been overturned, and there was blood—too much blood.

And in the center of it all was a pack member, one of the younger wolves, lying unconscious on the floor, their body covered in deep gashes.

Gideon was there too, his expression grim as he knelt beside the injured wolf, trying to stem the bleeding. “We need to get them to the infirmary,” he said, his voice tight with urgency.

I nodded numbly, barely registering what was happening as I helped lift the wounded wolf onto a makeshift stretcher.

We moved quickly, carrying them down the hall and into the infirmary where our healer, an older woman named Mara, was already waiting.

Mara immediately set to work, her hands moving with practiced efficiency as she assessed the extent of the injuries.

But even from where I stood, I could tell it was bad. The gashes were deep, the blood loss severe.

“What happened?” I asked Gideon, my voice barely above a whisper.

“We don’t know,” he said, his face pale. “I heard the scream and came running, but by the time I got there, it was too late. Whatever did this... it was fast, and it was vicious.”

I clenched my fists, anger and fear warring within me. This was exactly what the note had warned about. This attack was meant to send a message—a brutal, terrifying message.

“This wasn’t just an attack,” I said, my voice trembling with barely contained rage. “It was a warning. Whoever is behind this... they’re targeting us, and they’re not going to stop until we’re all dead.”

Gideon’s expression darkened, and he placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder. “We’ll find out who did this, Sera. And we’ll make them pay.”

But even as he said the words, I could see the doubt in his eyes. The same doubt that was gnawing at me.

Because the truth was, we had no idea who—or what—was responsible for this. And until we did, we were all sitting ducks, waiting for the next attack.

I looked down at the injured wolf, their breathing shallow and labored, and felt a surge of guilt. This had happened because of me—because I hadn’t listened to the warning. And now, someone else was paying the price.