Moonbound: The Last Wolf Bride

Chapter 01

My name is Elara, and I’m the most reckless beast tamer in all of Duskreach.

“This snow wolf has already torn three tamers to pieces. You sure you want to take it?” Batorin, the caravan leader, tossed a pouch of silver coins in front of me. The clatter of metal startled the beast in the cage—it snapped its head up with a snarl.

Through the rusted iron bars, I met its amber eyes. A chill crawled down my spine.

That wasn’t an animal’s gaze—it was too intelligent. Too human.

“Add twenty more,” I said, nudging the coin pouch back with my boot. “And I want the bell around its neck.”

Batorin narrowed his eyes. “How’d you know it has a bell? We only caught it last night. Even the feeders didn’t dare get close.”

I didn’t answer. I leaned in closer to the cage, letting the stench of rust and wild musk fill my lungs. The wolf slowly stood, towering over any I’d seen before. Its right forepaw had a limp, and as it moved, I heard the faintest jingle.

That sound. Ten years ago, in the snowstorms outside the ruins of The Wastelands, I tied a copper bell around the neck of a wounded wolf pup.

“Break it by dawn,” Batorin spat on the ground, “or I’ll sell it to the Persian circus. They’ve got ways to tame a beast—fire and starvation.”

That night, I dreamed of my fifteen-year-old self curled between the caravan’s cargo, cradling a bleeding pup. It licked the tears off my face as I tied a bell to its neck, taken from a broken camel harness.

“Don’t die,” I’d whispered, voice shaking. “Neither of us. Don’t die.”

I woke to a chorus of wolves howling beyond the tent walls. Grabbing a bag of raw meat, I bolted for the cage. My taming whip dragged behind me in the moonlight like a dead serpent.

Inside, the snow wolf was gnawing at its chains. When it saw me, it rose on its hind legs and slammed its front paws against the bars. That’s when I saw the fresh lash mark across its belly—blood beading like rubies in its silver-white fur.

“Who hurt you?” I whispered, reaching out before stopping just short of its teeth. Its breath hit my palm—hot, sharp.

The meat slipped through my fingers to the ground. The wolf sniffed it, then nudged it toward me with its nose.

“Not hungry?” I crouched to meet its eyes. “Or... you want me to eat first?”

Its amber eyes blinked once.

I tore off a piece and popped it in my mouth. At once, the wolf devoured the rest, chains clanking. When it licked the scraps off my fingers, its rough tongue scraped my skin raw.

“You remember, don’t you?” My hand moved to its ear on its own. “That winter—”

The wolf jerked back. The chain snapped taut. A growl rumbled in its throat—but not at me.

Batorin stood at the edge of the camp, holding a torch. Three men with ropes flanked him.

“Seems it likes you,” he rasped, voice like sandpaper. “Perfect. The circus handlers arrive at dawn.”

That night, my hands shook as I unlocked the cage. The snow wolf didn’t move, just watched me unhook the iron collar from its neck. Its damp nose brushed the vein in my wrist, just above the pulse.

“Go,” I whispered, pushing its shoulder. “Run. Head for the moon.”

But it grabbed my cloak in its jaws and tugged me out instead. The guards shouted. Torches closed in.

I stumbled after the wolf into the dunes. Moonlight stretched our shadows across the sand, blurring us into a single fleeing shape.

Behind a distant dune, the wolf suddenly tackled me. I braced for teeth.

Instead, warmth spread across my throat—it was licking the cuts the collar had left behind. Its fur shimmered like silver in the moonlight. I watched in awe as its form twisted, bones cracking, limbs shifting—

Then I wasn’t pinned by a beast, but by a boy.

A silver-haired boy. His pointed ears peeked through tangled hair, and hanging from his throat was a rusted bell.

“Elara,” he rasped, voice low and inhuman. His fangs brushed my collarbone.
“Your blood... still tastes just as sweet.”

Chapter 02

I froze. Even my breath halted for a second.

The silver-haired boy's body was scorching hot—like a brand of iron pressing down on me. His fingers—or maybe claws—grazed my cheek, gleaming cold and sharp in the moonlight.

“You...” My voice caught, dry as desert wind. “You’re that little wolf?”

He tilted his head, pointed ears twitching slightly. The bell around his neck chimed softly with the motion, and the sound yanked me back to that stormy night ten years ago—when I huddled in a caravan’s cargo pile, clutching a half-dead pup with snow-white fur and eyes like amber fire.

“You remember me,” he said, low and raspy, like something that had forgotten how to speak. It wasn’t a question.

Shouts echoed in the distance. Batorin’s men. I could see flickering torchlight swaying beyond the dunes. My heart was thundering so hard I thought it might burst—but strangely, I wasn’t afraid of him. There was no malice in his presence—only something oddly familiar.

“They’re coming,” I whispered. “Can you run?”

He narrowed his eyes, assessing me. Then, suddenly, he grabbed my wrist with enough force to make me yelp.

“You’re not afraid of me?” he asked, baring his sharp canines in the moonlight. “Most humans either scream or draw their blades.”

I swallowed hard and tried to play it cool. “I’ve seen scarier things... like Batorin drunk and naked.”

He blinked, then let out a low, rumbling sound—almost like a wolf’s chuckle. The next moment, he yanked me up and bolted toward the deeper dunes.

He was too fast. My feet barely touched the ground as we flew through the night, the only sounds were the wind, our breath, and the faint jingle of the bell at his throat. Sand stung my face, but his grip on my wrist stayed firm, like he was afraid I'd vanish if he let go.

“S-slow down!” I gasped. “I can’t keep up!”

He stopped dead, turned to look at me—those amber eyes glowing in the dark—then bent suddenly and tossed me over his shoulder like I weighed nothing.

“Hey! Put me down!” I punched his back, but it was like hitting stone. He didn’t even flinch.

“Keep struggling, and I’ll toss you back to Batorin,” he said, with a wicked grin in his voice.

I shut up immediately.

We ran for what felt like hours, until the torches behind us were no more than fading sparks in the distance. When he finally let me down, my legs buckled beneath me. I had to grab his arm to stay upright. His muscles were taut beneath my hand, his skin hot... but strangely human.

“Who... are you?” I panted.

He was quiet for a beat before he replied softly, “Cael.”

“Cael?” I frowned. “Wolves have names?”

“All of us do,” he said, a hint of annoyance in his voice. “Just because humans can’t hear them doesn’t mean they don’t exist.”

I studied his face—sharp features, high nose bridge, eyes glowing faintly like an animal’s. If not for the pointed ears and glimpse of fangs, he might’ve passed for one of the desert tribesmen.

“So... are you a wolf, or a man?” I asked hesitantly.

“Both,” he replied simply. Then his expression shifted—ears twitching, nose flaring. “Someone’s coming.”

My heart skipped. “Batorin?”

“No.” His eyes sharpened. “Wolves.”

I barely had time to react before he shoved me behind him and let out a deep growl. Figures were approaching fast over the dune ridge—shadows sliding like wind, their shapes stretching long under the moon.

“Cael!” one of them barked. “You dare bring a human into the sanctum?!”

Cael stiffened. His claws slid out, unbidden. “She’s not an enemy.”

“All humans are enemies!” the lead wolf snarled, voice rough and half-feral. “The Elders have decreed—capture them both!”

My blood turned to ice. Trapped. Batorin’s men behind us, wolfkin in front. We were caught between fire and fang.

Cael turned to me, a strange look of resolve in his eyes. “Elara, do you trust me?”

I froze. Ten years ago, I’d asked a tiny, bleeding pup the same question—“Do you trust me?”—before tying a bell around its neck. It hadn’t bitten me.

“I do,” I whispered.

The next second, he leaned down and crushed his mouth to mine.

My mind went blank. His kiss was wild, possessive—his teeth grazed my lip, like a beast marking its territory. I tried to push him away, but he caught the back of my head and deepened the kiss. His breath was scorching. When his tongue brushed the seam of my lips, my whole body trembled. My hands clutched at his tunic without thinking.

Angry howls rose behind us, but Cael didn’t care. Not until I was gasping for air did he finally pull away. His lips curved in a feral smile.

“There,” he said in a low voice. “Now you smell like me. They won’t hurt you.”

My face was burning, my heart thudding like war drums. Before I could yell at him for being a complete animal, a shout echoed across the sands.

“There they are! Grab them!” Batorin.

Cael’s eyes turned to steel. He pulled me behind him again, facing both the advancing wolves and the approaching humans. A deep, threatening growl rumbled in his chest.

“Cael...” I clung to his arm. “What now?”

He glanced down at me, eyes softening—then hardened again.

“We run,” he said. “This time, I’ll protect you.”

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