The Moon's Devotion
A Tale of Love Beyond Species
Prologue: The Silverwood Legend
The Silverwood Forest was a place of myths, an ancient expanse untouched by time. Travelers spoke of strange lights flickering between the trees, of whispers carried by the wind that did not belong to men. The villagers of Eldermere, a quiet settlement at the forest's edge, warned of a single, chilling tale—
"No man who enters Silverwood ever returns."
Elias had always been drawn to stories. He had spent his youth buried in books, searching for the truth behind old legends. And so, when he learned of the Moonbound Wolf—a creature said to be neither man nor beast, forever cursed under the moon's gaze—his curiosity became an obsession.
Despite every warning, despite the fear in his mother's voice as she begged him to stay, Elias set out for Silverwood one autumn evening. The wind howled like a mourning widow, and the trees loomed like silent sentinels as he stepped into the unknown
Elias moved cautiously through the dense undergrowth, each step crunching over fallen leaves. The air smelled of damp earth and something more—something ancient. He gripped the hilt of his dagger, more for comfort than for actual defense.
Night fell swiftly in Silverwood. The trees stretched toward the heavens, their branches a tangled web that blocked out the moon. Only thin slivers of silver light pierced through, illuminating the mist that curled around his boots like ghostly fingers.
Then, he heard it.
A low growl, deep and resonant, vibrating through his bones.
He turned, heart hammering. Eyes.
Two luminous eyes, golden like molten fire, glowed in the darkness. The creature was there, watching. He barely had time to register its form—a great wolf, larger than any he had ever seen, its fur silver as the moon.
His breath caught.
"The Moonbound Wolf…"
It moved in a blur.
Pain. A sharp, searing agony tore through his side as claws raked his flesh. Elias gasped, stumbling backward, the world spinning. His vision blurred.
The last thing he saw before darkness claimed him was the silver wolf standing over him, those golden eyes filled not with savagery—
But with sorrow.
Warmth surrounded him. Soft fur pressed against his cheek. He stirred, wincing at the dull ache in his side. His mind swam through fog as he forced his eyes open.
He was in a cave, the walls smooth and dark, lit only by the flickering glow of firelight. He tried to sit up, but pain lanced through his ribs. A soft whimper echoed nearby.
Then, he saw her.
The wolf.
She lay a few feet away, curled up like a guardian watching over him. The firelight caught her fur, making her look almost ethereal. But there was something… unnatural about her. Something more than just an animal.
"You should not have come here."
The voice did not come from her mouth, but from somewhere inside his mind. It was soft yet powerful, carrying a weight of sorrow.
Elias tensed, his pulse quickening. "You—" He stopped, his throat dry. "You can speak?"
The wolf's ears flicked. "Not in the way humans do. But yes."
Disbelief and fascination warred within him. He had come searching for a legend, and now he was lying in its presence.
"You attacked me." His hand drifted to his bandaged side.
"I saved you."
The words hung between them.
Elias frowned. "Why?"
For the first time, the wolf hesitated. She stood, shaking out her fur, and in that moment, something shifted. The air around her shimmered, bending like heat rising from stone.
Then—
She changed.
Before his very eyes, the wolf's form elongated, her fur fading into pale skin. Her limbs became slender, her body taking the shape of a woman. Long silver hair cascaded down her back, her golden eyes remaining the same—filled with both wisdom and grief.
Elias sucked in a sharp breath.
She was beautiful.
"I am Lyria," she said softly. "And I am cursed.
Elias stared, his breath shallow, as Lyria stood before him. The firelight flickered over her skin, casting shadows that danced along the cave walls. She was unlike any woman he had ever seen—feral yet graceful, powerful yet delicate.
"You… you're human," he murmured, his voice raw with disbelief.
Her golden eyes darkened. "No. Not fully."
Elias pushed himself upright, wincing as pain flared through his ribs. "I don't understand."
Lyria knelt beside him, her movements fluid and quiet. "Few do," she said. "I was born of two worlds—one of man, one of beast. But I belong to neither."
Elias swallowed, his throat dry. "You're the Moonbound Wolf."
She nodded slowly. "A name given by those who fear what they do not understand."
He had studied legends, but none of them had described this—a woman who was both wolf and human, her soul tethered to an ancient fate. He wanted to ask more, to uncover the depths of her story, but his body betrayed him, exhaustion pulling at his limbs.
Lyria's gaze softened. "You need rest."
Despite the whirlwind of questions in his mind, sleep tugged at him. As he drifted into unconsciousness, he heard her whisper—
"You should not have come here, Elias."
Elias woke to the scent of herbs and the crackling of a fire. His wounds had been carefully tended, the pain now a dull throb instead of sharp agony. He turned his head and found Lyria sitting near the cave's entrance, watching the night sky.
She seemed lost in thought, her silver hair glowing in the moonlight.
He sat up carefully. "How did you know my name?"
She didn't turn to him. "I heard you speak it in your sleep."
Elias exhaled. "I came here searching for the truth about you." He hesitated. "But now that I've found it, I don't know what to do with it."
Lyria finally faced him, her golden eyes unreadable. "Then perhaps it is not the truth you seek, but something else."
He frowned. "And what would that be?"
A small, knowing smile touched her lips. "That, only you can answer."
Silence stretched between them. Elias felt a pull toward her, something unexplainable. It wasn't just fascination—it was something deeper, something primal.
But Lyria's expression darkened. "I have lived many years, Elias. And I have seen how men react to what they cannot control. If they learn of what I am, they will hunt me."
Elias's chest tightened. "I'm not like them."
A shadow of sadness flickered across her face. "Perhaps not yet."
A gust of wind rustled through the cave entrance, carrying with it the scent of the wild. Lyria stood. "You must heal before you leave. When you are strong enough, I will take you back to the edge of the forest."
Elias felt a strange pang in his chest. "And if I don't want to leave?"
She looked at him then, truly looked at him, and in her eyes, he saw something he hadn't expected—fear.
"Love between man and wolf is a curse, Elias," she whispered.
Then she turned away, disappearing into the night.