The moon cast a silver veil over New York City, turning its bustling streets into a labyrinth of shadows. In the heart of the city, the Blackwood mansion stood tall, a fortress of old money and even older secrets. Tonight, it was filled with life—warmth, laughter, and the rare feeling of family unity.

Celia Blackwood moved through the grand hall, the soft glow of chandeliers reflecting off the family portraits lining the walls. Each face, each name, was a reminder of her lineage—hunters, protectors, warriors against the supernatural. Tonight was meant to be a celebration, a night to honor that legacy. But as her father spoke proudly of their victories, Celia couldn't shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong.

Then her phone vibrated—a text from her handler. Her heart skipped a beat as she read the words: *Attack. Werewolves. It's bad. Get to the old safehouse—now.*

The safehouse. A place her family had abandoned years ago, its existence known only to those closest to the Blackwoods. Who could have known to attack there? And why?

Excusing herself, Celia slipped out into the night, her pulse racing. The drive through the city felt endless, her thoughts swirling with questions she had no answers to. The safehouse had been a sanctuary once, a place of safety and secrecy. But as she arrived, the sight that greeted her was anything but safe.

Blood stained the walls, and the bodies of hunters and innocents lay scattered like broken dolls. But it wasn't the carnage that made her blood run cold—it was the symbol carved into the stone floor, a mark she had only seen in her family's most guarded records. The mark of a werewolf pack thought to have been destroyed generations ago.

The name slipped from her lips, almost a whisper: "Lucian."

A presence stirred in the shadows, and Celia's heart slammed against her ribs. She turned slowly, dread pooling in her stomach. And there he was—Lucian, the werewolf who had vanished from history a century ago, standing before her like a ghost from a nightmare. His eyes, a haunting blend of regret and something darker, locked onto hers.

For a moment, the world seemed to stop. Celia felt an inexplicable connection, a pull she couldn't understand. But before she could speak, before she could even think, the air exploded with the sound of footsteps—other hunters, responding to the carnage. Lucian's eyes flickered with something she couldn't decipher before he melted back into the shadows, disappearing as suddenly as he had appeared.

The hunters swarmed around her, weapons drawn, demanding answers. But Celia could only stare at the blood-streaked symbol, her mind reeling. This wasn't just an attack—it was a message, a threat from the past, reawakened and aimed directly at her family.

As the sirens grew louder, signaling the arrival of the authorities, Celia realized with a jolt that nothing in her life would ever be the same. The nightmare her family thought they had buried had returned, and it was up to her to stop it—or risk losing everything she loved.