The First Moon Rises

The moon was red when it came up. Lyra could see it through the small window with bars in her prison cell. It looked big and hurt, like it was bleeding light into the dark sky.

The curse was starting. And Kael was already changing. She didn't need a clock to know what time it was. She could feel it in her body.

It felt like the whole world was holding its breath. The air felt thick and sharp. Something old and mean pressed down on her chest. Her bones hurt. Her skin felt crawly. The mark on her body burned cold. Something inside her was waking up too.

During the day, it slept. But now it was moving under her skin like smoke. Lyra hugged herself and crouched down by the stone wall. She tried to make her heart beat slower. This was what she wanted when she came here.

She wanted to die. She wanted the Wolf King to kill her before she turned into something terrible. But now that it was really happening - now that the night was heavy with Kael's anger and the forest had gone quiet - she knew something awful.

She didn't want to die anymore.

Not like this.

Not by his hands.

Not because of his pain.

---

Upstairs

Kael slammed the big door shut and fell to his knees. He was breathing hard. His fingernails were already turning black and getting longer. His muscles were jumping under his skin. He was starting to change too early.

The curse was waking up faster. Because she's here, he thought, gasping for air. He could still smell her. Her blood. Her sadness.

The girl in the prison was messing up everything inside him - his thoughts, his senses, even the beast. And tonight, the beast wasn't waiting.

The castle shook in the wind.

Kael screamed as his back cracked. His hands hit the cold stone floor as fur ripped through his skin. His eyes glowed gold, then white. This wasn't like a normal change.

It was torture. A curse. This was what he had to pay. For every person he killed. For everyone he loved. He became something the goddess had buried deep - part man, part beast, all anger. His bones cracked. His teeth got longer. Sharp claws burst from his fingers. Kael fell forward. His mouth opened in a silent scream as the curse took over. And in the dark below, he heard her.

Lyra.

scared.

Begging.

Not for mercy. But for courage.

---

Downstairs

Lyra's chains fell to the ground with a clatter. They hadn't been unlocked. They hadn't been broken.

They had melted. Silver metal pooled at her feet like liquid moonlight. She stared at it, shocked. Her wrists were red but free.

"What the hell..." she whispered.

The wind howled outside. The whole castle groaned. The stone walls creaked under some invisible weight. She could hear footsteps above - no, not footsteps.

Paws.

Big ones. Heavy. Scraping across the floors upstairs.

He's coming.

Her mark burned so cold it felt like her skin was freezing.

She stood up slowly. The prison walls felt like they were getting closer. She could smell blood in the air. Her knees shook, but she made herself stand.

If she was going to die tonight, she would face it.

Face him. She put her hand on the cold metal door. The moment she touched it, he roared.

---

He crashed into the prison like a storm. The door didn't open - it exploded into pieces.

Wind and broken pieces slammed into Lyra. She stumbled back against the wall. Dust filled the air. Stones cracked under huge claws. And then he stepped into the light.

Kael.

But not Kael.

The thing in front of her had golden eyes that glowed like fire. His fur was black as nothing, wet with sweat. His body was huge - too big, too sharp for a normal wolf-person. His muscles were too strong. His snarl was wild. His jaw hung open showing teeth made for tearing.

He wasn't Kael anymore.

He was the cursed king.

Lyra couldn't breathe.

He stared at her.

Then he attacked.

---

She barely had time to scream. She dropped to the floor just as he jumped at her. His claws scraped the stone wall above her head, making sparks fly. She rolled to the side. Her heart pounded like a drum in her chest.

"Kael - Kael, please -"

No answer. He wasn't really in there. Not all the way.

She crawled across the floor. Blood dripped from her scraped knees. She breathed in sharp gasps. He snarled again, walking slowly now. His huge body blocked the way out.

He didn't attack this time. He watched. Walking around her. Like she was prey. No. She had to reach the real him.

"Kael. You know me. I'm not your enemy."

His head turned slightly.

Then he growled.

Low. Like a warning.

But behind it, she heard something else.

Pain.

Hurt.

Guilt.

Lyra's voice shook. "You said you killed everyone you loved. Is that what this is? Is that what she cursed you to do?"

His body got tense.

She stepped closer. "She marked me too. But I'm still me. I'm still fighting it."

His head dropped a little. His chest went up and down with hard breathing.

"Fight her, Kael," she whispered.

The wolf snarled louder. A cry of anger and confusion. He slammed his claws into the floor.

Then he turned around.

Ran away.

Disappeared back through the broken door like he couldn't stand to look at her.

Like he was scared.

---

Lyra fell against the wall, gasping and shaking.

He could have killed her.

Should have.

But he didn't.

Because something inside him - something under the beast - had held on. Because he saw you, she realized.

He saw me.

Not just a mark. Not just blood.

Lyra.

---

She waited until her legs could move again. Then she stepped over the broken chains and walked out of the prison, barefoot and quiet. The castle halls were empty and cold. Wind still howled through cracks in the ceiling.

She followed the blood. Small drops on the floor. Deep claw marks in the stone. Then she found him.

Kael.

Collapsed in the corner of the hallway. His body was half-changed back. The fur was going away. His bones were cracking back into place. He was breathing hard, face buried in his arms.

He was crying.

She knelt down beside him without saying anything. And for the first time, he didn't push her away.

---

When Lyra touched his shoulder, his skin burned hot - like it had been branded. She pulled her hand back. The mark on her collarbone glowed again - matching his.

Not a curse this time. But a connection.

Something that tied them together.