Silvercrest Academy – Midnight
The academy was never truly silent.
Even at this hour, whispers of magic drifted through the air. The moonlight pooled over the marble corridors, stretching eerie shadows across the walls.
Ronan moved without a sound, his senses sharper than before—too sharp.
He should have been exhausted after the combat trials, after the surge of whatever-the-hell power had awakened inside him. But instead, he felt... wired. Aware. Restless.
I shouldn't be alive.
The thought gnawed at him as he reached the entrance of the Forbidden Archives.
Selene was waiting.
She leaned against the heavy bookshelf, arms crossed, her violet eyes gleaming under the candlelight. Unlike the other students, she wasn't sizing him up for weakness—she was studying him like a puzzle with missing pieces.
"You're late," she murmured.
"You're impatient," Ronan shot back.
Selene smirked. "And you're reckless." She let her gaze linger on him, calculating. "That little stunt in the arena? That wasn't werewolf strength, Ronan."
He clenched his fists. "Then what was it?"
Selene turned and pulled a massive leather-bound book from the shelf. The cover was ancient, marked with deep claw slashes and strange runes.
"You ever heard of the Blood Moon Curse?" she asked.
Ronan frowned. "It's a myth. An old werewolf legend about a cursed bloodline."
Selene opened the book, flipping to a page covered in blackened ink and faded gold lettering. She held it out to him.
"Read."
Ronan's gaze dropped to the text:
The Forsaken Ones. Cursed by the Blood Moon, neither wolf nor man, but something in between.
Banished from the packs, feared by the elders, hunted by the supernatural world. Their existence defies nature, their power threatens the balance itself.
Marked by the moon, their souls are tethered to something older than time.
Ronan's stomach clenched.
"You think this is me?" His voice was flat, but something deep inside him—something primal—felt the words echo through his bones.
Selene's expression turned unreadable. "Your wolf is gone, but you're still alive. Your body moves faster, your wounds heal too quickly, and you're immune to things that should kill you. Tell me that doesn't sound like the Blood Moon Curse."
Ronan didn't want to believe it.
But he couldn't deny what he had felt in the arena.
That unnatural power. That pulse.
He inhaled sharply, closing the book. "So what does this mean?"
Selene hesitated. "It means you're in more danger than you realize."
Then—
The doors burst open.
Ronan's instincts screamed.
The scent hit him first—wolves. But not ordinary ones.
Hunters.
Five figures entered the room, cloaked in black and silver, their hoods shadowing their faces. They moved with precision, authority, purpose.
Selene's face darkened. "Shit."
The leader stepped forward, lowering his hood. Silver-streaked hair. Piercing green eyes. His presence was suffocating, his aura thick with unnatural stillness.
"Ronan Blackwood," he said smoothly. "We've been looking for you."
Ronan tensed. "And who the hell are you?"
The man's lips curved into a dangerous smirk.
"We are the Moon Reapers. And you, boy, are a problem that needs to be erased."
The Moon Reapers.
Ronan's blood went cold.
Every supernatural had heard rumors about them. A secret order dedicated to hunting things that should not exist.
Creatures like him.
Selene's fingers twitched toward the dagger at her waist. "We need to move," she muttered.
The Reaper leader raised a hand, and the assassins lunged.
Ronan didn't hesitate. He moved.
The first hunter came at him fast, silver blade glinting. Ronan twisted, dodging just as Selene's dagger slit another attacker's throat.
Another Reaper lunged. Ronan countered, catching the man's wrist—
Then something happened.
The moment their skin touched, a shockwave of raw energy rippled through Ronan's veins.
The assassin's eyes widened in horror.
And then—
BOOM.
An unseen force exploded outward, launching the man into a bookshelf with a sickening crack.
Silence.
Ronan stared at his own hands.
What the hell was that?
Selene grabbed his wrist. "We have to go. Now."
But the Reaper leader was still watching.
Studying him.
"It's true," the man whispered. "The prophecy is real."
Then, his golden eyes locked onto Ronan's.
"You are not supposed to exist."
Ronan's breath hitched.
And for the first time since waking up in Silvercrest, he felt something worse than betrayal.
He felt hunted.
They didn't stop running until they reached the abandoned sector of the academy.
Selene shoved Ronan against a wall.
"Do you have any idea what you just did?" she hissed.
Ronan was still trying to catch his breath. "I—"
"You used pure lunar energy. That's not werewolf power, Ronan. That's something forbidden."
His stomach twisted. "Then what the hell am I?"
Selene exhaled, her violet eyes sharp. "That's what I'm trying to figure out. But the Reapers?" She shook her head. "They already know."
Ronan clenched his fists.
He didn't understand this power.
But if the Moon Reapers wanted him dead for it—
Then he sure as hell wasn't going to make it easy for them.
Selene studied him for a long moment. Then her voice softened.
"You really don't know what you're becoming, do you?"
Ronan shook his head.
Selene sighed. "Then I'll help you figure it out."
For the first time, Ronan felt like he wasn't alone.
But one thing was clear—
This was only the beginning.