Bound by the Moon

Chapter 52

The stillness of the clearing weighed heavily on Astrid's shoulders, as if the very air conspired to press her down. She stood at the center, rigid and unmoving, while her senses strained against the darkness pressing in from the thick forest. The sky above was overcast, casting an oppressive gloom over the clearing, and the scent of damp earth and pine filled her nose. Every creak of a branch, every rustle of leaves sent a jolt of tension through her body. She wasn't alone. The rogues were out there, circling like predators, hidden in the gloom, watching her with hungry eyes.

She was their lure—the bait to draw them into Lucien's trap.

But as the moments dragged on, doubt began to creep into Astrid's mind. What if the rogues had seen through their plan? What if Lucien and the others were too far away when the attack came? She couldn't shake the feeling that she was balancing on the edge of a precipice, and one wrong move would send her tumbling into chaos.

The pack was hidden, each member concealed in the trees around the perimeter, their breathing steady, their hearts synchronized with the pulse of the hunt. Lucien's final words echoed in her mind, his voice calm yet firm: Stay still. Trust us. We'll be watching, and the second they make a move, we strike.

She trusted him, but trusting Lucien wasn't the hard part. It was the power inside her—the wild, raw energy that had awakened within her—that she feared. She hadn't mastered it, hadn't learned how to wield it without losing control. What if, in the heat of battle, she unleashed something she couldn't take back?

The thought gnawed at her, and she felt the familiar tingle under her skin, the restless energy itching to break free. She balled her fists at her sides, forcing herself to stay still. Not yet. She had to wait.

The air shifted, cold and sharp. Astrid felt it before she saw them—the rogues, slipping from the shadows like phantoms. Their eyes gleamed in the dim light, feral and calculating. A dozen, at least. More than she had expected. Her heart raced, thudding hard against her ribs. They moved with the grace of predators, fanning out to encircle her, cutting off any escape. The clearing felt smaller now, the walls of trees pressing in around her as the rogues closed the distance.

One rogue stepped forward from the rest—a man with angular, predatory features, his hair matted and wild, his eyes filled with cruel amusement. His lips twisted into a sneer as he regarded her, his gaze sweeping over her like a vulture circling a carcass.

"Well, well," he drawled, his voice low and grating, "the little lamb has wandered too far from the flock."

Astrid swallowed hard, her throat dry, but she forced herself to meet his gaze without flinching. She couldn't show fear. They thrived on it.

"I'm not alone," she said, her voice steady despite the tension coiled in her gut. "And you know that."

The rogue's smile widened, a cold, dangerous thing. "Oh, I know. But it won't matter."

He raised a hand, and the other rogues tensed, ready to strike. Astrid's pulse quickened. She had to keep them focused on her, had to give Lucien and the others enough time to spring their trap.

But something was wrong. The rogue leader wasn't charging. He was waiting. For what?

Astrid's heart sank as the realization hit her. This isn't the real attack. This is a distraction. The rogues were leading Lucien's pack into an ambush.

"They're flanking us," she whispered, her breath catching as panic surged inside her. But before she could react, the rogue leader lunged.

Astrid barely had time to dive to the side as claws slashed through the air where she had just been standing. The leader was on her in an instant, his movements swift and deadly. She rolled across the ground, her body instinctively calling forth the power that simmered beneath her skin, but she fought to hold it back. Not yet. If she lost control now, it could be catastrophic.

The rogue's hand shot out, grabbing her by the wrist with bone-crushing force. His grip tightened, his other hand raised to strike. But in that moment, something inside Astrid snapped.

With a cry of desperation, she let go.

The power surged out of her in a blinding wave of white-hot energy, slamming into the rogue leader and sending him flying across the clearing. He hit the ground hard, skidding through the dirt before coming to a stop, groaning in pain. The shockwave rippled through the air, shaking the trees, and the other rogues hesitated, their eyes wide with shock as they stared at her, at the crackling energy still radiating from her body like a living storm.

Astrid's chest heaved, her breath ragged as the power ebbed and flowed inside her, barely under control. She could feel it rising again, pushing against her will, eager to be unleashed fully. She gritted her teeth, forcing herself to focus, to keep it contained. She couldn't afford to lose herself, not now.

The rogue leader staggered to his feet, his eyes blazing with fury. "You little—" He never finished his sentence.

Lucien's pack struck with lethal precision, exploding from the shadows in a blur of fur and claws. Chaos erupted as wolves collided with rogues, the clearing filled with snarls, growls, and the vicious sounds of battle. Astrid's head snapped to the side as Lucien tore through a rogue, his body a blur of raw power, his movements fluid and deadly.

But the rogues were prepared. They moved with ruthless efficiency, targeting the weakest members of the pack, splitting them apart, forcing them to fight on uneven ground. Astrid's heart pounded as she watched one of the younger wolves, Lena, get cornered by two rogues. Without thinking, Astrid sprinted toward them, her feet barely touching the ground as the power surged through her, propelling her forward.

With a roar, she unleashed a blast of energy, knocking the rogues off their feet and giving Lena the chance to regroup. But even as Astrid fought, she could feel the strain, the wild power inside her beginning to slip out of her control. It surged through her veins like wildfire, chaotic and relentless.

She barely had time to react when the rogue leader came at her again, his eyes glowing with savage intent. He moved faster this time, his claws aimed for her throat. Astrid tried to summon her power again, but it faltered—her control slipping at the worst possible moment.

The rogue's claws raked across her arm, and she cried out in pain, stumbling back. Blood trickled down her skin, the wound burning as the rogue pressed his advantage, a cruel grin twisting his lips.

"Is this all you've got?" he taunted, his voice a sneer as he raised his hand for the killing blow.

Time seemed to slow. Astrid's vision blurred, her body trembling with exhaustion and the strain of holding the power back. She knew she couldn't last much longer. If she let go now, if she gave in to the power fully, she might win—but at what cost?

The rogue's hand came down.

Astrid screamed.

A blinding light erupted from her, engulfing the clearing in a flash of white-hot energy. The rogue leader's snarl turned into a scream as the power slammed into him, lifting him off his feet and hurling him across the clearing. The force of it sent shockwaves through the ground, knocking trees and wolves alike to the ground.

Then everything went still.

Astrid stood at the center of the destruction, her body shaking, her vision swimming. The power still crackled around her, wild and untamed, but she couldn't feel her legs, couldn't focus. Her breath came in ragged gasps as she looked around, trying to see through the haze. Wolves and rogues lay scattered across the clearing, some unconscious, others barely moving. Her head spun, her knees buckling.

Lucien's voice reached her through the fog, but it was distant, like a fading echo.

"Astrid!"

She turned toward him, her vision darkening at the edges. Her legs gave out, and she collapsed to the ground, the world spinning around her.

Darkness crept in, cold and consuming. The last thing she saw was Lucien's face, his eyes wide with fear, before everything went black.

And then there was nothing.