Bound By The Moon: The Eternal Bond

The fire in the hearth had long burned to embers, but Lily’s eyes still glowed with a restless hunger. Her fingers traced the edges of a worn grimoire, pages marked with ancient ink and the scent of forgotten power. Scrawled sketches of moonstones and celestial markings filled the margins—each one a piece of the puzzle that had evaded her for months.

The moonstone pendant.
She had seen it around Julia’s neck, felt the invisible barrier it pulsed with the last time she tried to snatch it. The thing was ancient—older than even the oldest witches dared to whisper about. It wasn’t just a trinket of light. No, it was a key. A weapon. A throne waiting for the right ruler.
For me, she thought.

Her lips curled in frustration. “Damn girl... She doesn’t even know what she carries.”

Just then, a loud thud echoed from the grand hall below—followed by shouting, then silence so thick it felt like the air itself held its breath.

Lily stood, her long black robes sweeping the cold floor as she descended the grand staircase.

At the bottom, a trail of blood led to the center of the hall, where a rogue knelt. He was trembling violently, covered in gashes, his fur soaked in gore. His eyes darted between Damon and the floor, unable to look his Alpha in the face.

Damon stood tall, arms folded, his eyes glowing crimson in the low light. His voice was cold, razor-sharp.

“You good-for-nothing rogues couldn’t complete a simple task assigned to you?”

The rogue whimpered. “W-we tried… the southern pack was guarded... Valen—”

“Silence.”
Damon’s voice was barely more than a whisper, but the room shook."don't ever mention that name Infront of me."

“The damage was done, yes, but not as much as I wanted. The werewolves still trust him. Those good for nothing filthy humans who are meant to be slaves, still trust him. Valen walks free, wearing a crown of sympathy.” His lips curled into a sneer. “I wanted their hate to Valen. Their fear. Instead, I get this—this failure.”

The rogue bowed low. “F-forgive me, my king... please...”

Damon raised one hand. A swirling mass of thick, black smoke coiled from his palm like a living serpent. It slithered toward the rogue, wrapping around his throat.

“No forgiveness,” Damon said flatly.

The rogue let out a gurgled howl as he was lifted off the ground, the smoke tightened around his neck. His body jerked, his limbs convulsing as his fur dried, skin shriveling like paper. A sickening crunch echoed in the silent room. Moments later, his body collapsed into dust, leaving behind only bones and scraps of fur.

“Clean it up,” Damon snapped to a nearby guard. Without waiting for a response, he turned and stormed upstairs.

Lily followed, her steps graceful, but her expression unreadable. “Filthy humans?” she said, her voice laced with sarcasm. “Have you forgotten your mate is one of them too?”

“Not now, Lily,” Damon growled, jaw tight as he continued his steps.

“Oh, so you were the one behind the attack on the Southern Pack?” she smirked. “Interesting. But it seems you failed. Again.”

Damon halted abruptly, his back stiffening. He turned, hand outstretched. A blast of invisible force slammed into Lily’s chest, hurling her across the hall. She crashed into the stone wall with a sickening crack, slumping to the floor with blood trickling from the corner of her mouth.

She coughed, spat, and wiped her lip, staring at Damon in disbelief.

“I am Damon. The Alpha King. And soon, every wolf will worship me,” he snarled. “I’m done waiting. I will personally wipe out the Southern Pack. One by one. I will burn every alliance, every village, and I will unite them under me, the time has come. And you, little human…” He leaned close, his breath hot and dangerous. “Don’t make me lose my patience with you.”

He turned on his heel and walked away, his cloak dragging like a shadow behind him.

Lily sat still for a moment, breathing hard, letting the pain burn into her memory. Then she slowly stood and smiled to herself.

“We shall see about that, Damon,” she whispered. “The true power belongs to me. And when I get hold of that moonstone pendant… your throne will crumble.”

Later that night, when the manor fell into silence, Lily moved swiftly through the halls. Her footsteps were nearly silent as she approached the old grandfather clock on the eastern wall. With a twist of a hidden latch behind its frame, the wooden panel creaked open to reveal a narrow staircase, spiraling down into darkness.

She didn’t need light. The path was etched into her memory.

Stone walls bled dampness, roots cracking through the ceiling above like clawed fingers. The underground passage twisted beneath the dark forest, leading far beyond the manor grounds. Finally, she emerged at the base of an ancient oak, its bark blackened and twisted unnaturally.

Beyond it, deep in the trees, orange lights flickered. A circle of hooded figures stood around a low-burning fire, their eyes glowing faintly beneath their hoods.

The witches.

Lily stepped into the circle.

“Have you come to claim the pact, child of shadow?” the oldest witch rasped.

“I have,” Lily said, her voice cold and resolute. “I want power. The moonstone pendant belongs to me. And I will wield it—not Damon, not Julia.”

The witches looked at one another, then back at her. “Then your price must be paid in blood and bone.”

Lily smiled, unflinching. “So be it.”