Episode 4: Trouble at the edge

May had been training non-stop since the Trial. Every morning started with brutal sparring and ended with her bruised and exhausted—but stronger. Some of the pack still didn’t trust her, and that was fine. She wasn’t here to be liked. She was here to survive… and maybe, just maybe, end the Bloodfang curse.

But lately, something felt off.

It started with weird dreams. Like flashes from another life. A woman with silver eyes. A sword soaked in blood. A promise whispered under the moon.

Then there was the pressure in her chest. Not fear. Not pain. Just… a pull. Like something was calling her.

She didn’t tell Bran. Not yet. They were getting closer—sure—but she still didn’t know how to explain that her dreams might actually be visions. He’d think she was losing it.

Except deep down, she knew something was coming. And it wasn’t good.

—

One afternoon, while training with the warriors, May paused mid-swing, her heart racing. The forest was too quiet. Even the birds weren’t chirping. She glanced toward the western trees. There. That pressure again.

Bran stepped forward, grabbing her arm. “You okay?”

“I don’t know,” she said honestly.

He frowned. “What did you feel?”

May hesitated. “Like the forest was holding its breath.”

—

Later that night, she snuck away from the pack house. She needed space. Fresh air. Answers.

She ended up at Moonfire Lake again. The water shimmered under the moonlight, calm but strange. She stared at her reflection, waiting.

Then it happened.

Her reflection shifted.

A woman stood in her place—taller, older, fierce. Her eyes were silver, glowing. She reached out toward May, her lips moving.

Break the bond... or burn with him.

May stumbled back, breath caught in her throat. What did that mean? Who was she? And why did she sound… familiar?

Behind her, a low growl.

May spun, claws ready, but it was just Bran.

“May?” His voice was careful. “I felt something shift.”

She shook her head, trying to breathe. “The curse… it started before you. Before your father. Maybe before this pack even existed.”

Bran looked tense. “You saw something?”

“Yeah,” she whispered. “A woman. She warned me. Said I have to break the bond… or burn.”

Bran’s eyes flashed. “That’s not happening. You’re not dying.”

“I don’t want to. But I think someone wants us to. This curse—it’s not just magic. It’s personal.”

Before Bran could say anything, a howl echoed through the forest.

Loud. Urgent. Danger.

—

They ran.

When they reached the southern border, the air was thick with tension. Wolves were already gathered, teeth bared. A line of rogues stood just outside the territory’s boundary, watching with cold, red eyes.

Then she saw him.

Tall. Dark. Smirking.

Alpha Varek.

Bran stiffened beside her. “Of course it’s him.”

“Who?” May asked.

“Varek. Old rival. Tried to take the pack once. Failed. Looks like he’s back for round two.”

Varek stepped forward, clapping slowly. “Well, well, well. Look at the cursed Alpha and his shiny new Luna.”

Bran growled, stepping in front of May. “Leave now, or you won’t leave at all.”

Varek tilted his head. “I just came to say hi. Word on the street is your curse is broken. That she survived. Impressive. But I wonder… how long will that last?”

May stepped beside Bran. “Back off. I’m not yours.”

Varek smirked. “Oh, I think you’re a lot more important than you realize. That mark? It’s not a blessing. It’s a target.”

He turned to leave. “We’ll be seeing each other soon, little Luna.”

Then he vanished into the trees.

—

Back at the pack house, chaos.

Wolves were talking all at once. The council was panicking. Some blamed May, others feared what was coming. Bran had to slam his fist on the table to get everyone quiet.

“She’s not the enemy,” he snapped. “But Varek is.”

“He’ll come back,” said one warrior. “With more.”

“He wants May,” said another. “Why?”

May stood up. “Because I’m the last piece. The final Luna. If I survive, the curse ends. If I don’t, it starts over again. Varek wants to control that.”

The room fell silent.

Bran stepped beside her. “Then we protect her. At all costs.”

—

Later, in Bran’s room, things were quieter. But the tension between them wasn’t.

May sat on the edge of the bed, watching the fire crackle. “If I die… the curse resets?”

Bran nodded slowly. “That’s what the old scrolls say.”

She looked up at him. “Then we fight.”

He stared at her. “Even if it means dying?”

“I’d rather die fighting than let someone like Varek win.”

Bran walked over and knelt in front of her, his hands on her knees. “You’re not going to die.”

“You can’t promise that.”

“No. But I can fight with you. Every step.”