Chapter 1: The Night of the Red Moon

The first time Emma Carter saw the red moon, she thought the sky was bleeding.

It hung above the Scottish Highlands like a wound in the heavens, round and enormous, staining the clouds with a deep crimson glow. The old road ahead twisted between black pine trees and rising stone hills, disappearing into a curtain of silver mist.

Emma tightened her hands around the steering wheel.

“This is ridiculous,” she whispered to herself.

Her phone had lost signal twenty minutes ago. The map had frozen. The rain had started again. And the narrow road beneath her rented car looked less like a road and more like something forgotten by the world.

She had come to Scotland for answers.

Her mother had died six months ago, leaving behind only debts, silence, and a sealed black envelope hidden inside an old jewelry box. Inside that envelope was a faded map, a silver pendant shaped like a crescent moon, and one sentence written in her mother’s careful handwriting:

When the red moon rises, go to Ravenwood.

Emma had never heard of Ravenwood.

No town by that name appeared online. No hotel, no castle, no village, nothing. Yet the map showed a path through the Highlands, ending at a place marked with a strange symbol: a wolf’s head inside a crown.

Now, as the moon burned red above her, Emma wondered if grief had made her foolish.

The car suddenly jerked.

A warning light flashed on the dashboard.

“No, no, no,” she muttered.

The engine coughed once, twice, then died.

The car rolled to a stop beside a broken stone wall covered in moss. Rain tapped against the windshield. Beyond the glass, the forest stood silent.

Emma tried the engine again.

Nothing.

She leaned back and closed her eyes. “Perfect.”

A sound came from the woods.

Low. Long. Hungry.

A howl.

Emma’s eyes opened.

Another howl answered from somewhere deeper among the trees. Then another. The sounds moved through the forest like living shadows.

Wolves.

Her breath caught.

There were no wolves in Scotland. At least, that was what every travel article had said.

Emma grabbed her bag from the passenger seat and searched for the small flashlight she had packed. Her fingers closed around the silver pendant instead.

It was warm.

She froze.

The pendant should have been cold. It had been lying in her bag all evening. But now it pulsed gently against her palm, almost like a heartbeat.

A sharp knock struck the car window.

Emma screamed.

A man stood outside.

He was tall, dressed in a long black coat, rain sliding from his dark hair. His face was pale in the moonlight, beautiful in a dangerous way, with a sharp jaw, strong features, and eyes so grey they almost looked silver.

He did not smile.

“Open the door,” he said.

Emma stared at him through the glass.

“Who are you?”

His eyes moved briefly toward the forest.

“You should not be here.”

“That does not answer my question.”

Another howl rose behind him, closer this time.

The man’s expression hardened. “Open the door, Emma.”

Her blood turned cold.

“How do you know my name?”

He stepped closer. “Because I have been waiting for you.”

For one mad second, Emma thought about locking the doors and staying inside the dead car until morning. Then something moved between the trees.

A shape.

Huge. Black. Too large to be any normal animal.

Its eyes glowed gold in the darkness.

Emma’s hand shook as she unlocked the door.

The man opened it at once. “Come with me.”

“I’m not going anywhere with a stranger.”

“Then stay and die.”

Before Emma could answer, the creature burst from the trees.

It was a wolf, but not like any wolf she had ever seen. It was massive, its shoulders nearly as high as the car window, its fur black as smoke, its teeth white and long. A second wolf appeared behind it, then a third.

Emma stumbled backward.

The dark-haired man moved in front of her.

A growl rumbled from his chest.

It was not human.

The wolves stopped.

The man’s eyes flashed silver.

“Run,” he said softly.

Emma did not argue.

She ran.

Rain soaked her coat as she followed him through the trees. Branches scratched her arms. Mud pulled at her boots. Behind them, the wolves snarled and crashed through the forest.

The man moved fast, too fast, but every time Emma fell behind, he turned back and caught her wrist.

His touch sent heat through her skin.

Not warmth.

Fire.

“What is happening?” she gasped.

“Keep moving.”

“I need answers!”

“You need to survive first.”

They reached a narrow bridge of ancient stone crossing a deep ravine. Mist rose from below like ghostly breath. On the other side, the trees opened slightly, revealing iron gates between two cliffs.

The gates were enormous, black, and covered in symbols Emma did not understand.

At their center was the same mark from her mother’s map.

A wolf’s head inside a crown.

Ravenwood.

The man pulled Emma across the bridge.

The wolves followed.

One leaped onto the bridge behind them, claws scraping stone. Emma turned and saw its golden eyes fixed on her.

The pendant at her throat suddenly burned.

A silver light exploded from it.

The wolf howled and fell back, smoke rising from its fur.

Emma cried out, clutching the pendant. “What is this thing?”

The man stared at her, and for the first time, surprise crossed his face.

“The moonstone chose you.”

Before Emma could ask what that meant, the iron gates opened by themselves.

Beyond them stood a castle.

It rose from the mountain like a dark crown, its towers piercing the storm clouds, its windows glowing with pale blue light. Around it stretched a hidden valley filled with ancient trees, stone paths, and distant rooftops.

A kingdom.

Hidden inside the Highlands.

Emma stopped breathing.

“This can’t be real,” she whispered.

The man looked at the castle, then back at her.

“It is real. And now that you have entered, you cannot simply leave.”

The gates slammed shut behind them.

The wolves crashed against the iron bars, snarling and snapping, but they did not pass.

Emma stepped away from the man, heart pounding.

“Tell me who you are.”

For a moment, he said nothing.

Then he bowed his head slightly.

“My name is Kael Ravenwood.”

The name struck something deep inside her, like a memory that did not belong to her.

He lifted his gaze.

“I am the Alpha King of Ravenwood. Some call me the Shadow King.”

Emma almost laughed, but the sound died in her throat.

Alpha King.

Shadow King.

Wolves that were not wolves.

A hidden kingdom.

A burning pendant.

Her mother’s map.

None of it made sense.

“Why did my mother send me here?” Emma asked.

Kael’s face changed.

The coldness in his eyes softened, but only for a second.

“Because she knew the red moon would return.”

“And what does that have to do with me?”

The castle bells began to ring.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

The sound rolled across the valley like thunder. Doors opened in the distant village. Figures appeared along balconies and stone steps. People stared toward the gate.

No.

Not people.

Their eyes glowed faintly in the dark.

Kael turned toward the castle.

“They know you are here.”

Emma swallowed. “Who?”

“The pack.”

A woman in a silver cloak hurried down the stone path from the castle. She stopped when she saw Emma, her face going pale.

“My king,” the woman whispered. “Is it true?”

Kael did not answer.

The woman’s eyes lowered to Emma’s pendant. Then to Emma’s face.

She looked afraid.

Emma hated that look.

“What is true?” Emma demanded.

Kael stepped closer.

The air between them felt charged, as if the storm had moved inside her chest.

“The prophecy said a human woman would arrive on the night of the red moon,” he said. “She would carry the moonstone. She would awaken the old magic. And she would either save Ravenwood…”

He paused.

Emma’s voice came out barely above a whisper. “Or?”

Kael’s silver eyes locked onto hers.

“Or destroy it.”

The wind rose sharply, lifting Emma’s wet hair around her face.

Somewhere beyond the gates, the wolves began to howl again.

But this time, the sound was different.

Not a hunt.

A warning.

Kael looked toward the dark forest.

Then he reached for Emma’s hand.

She should have pulled away.

She did not.

The moment their fingers touched, the moonstone blazed with silver fire.

Every bell in Ravenwood rang at once.

The woman in the silver cloak dropped to her knees.

Across the valley, others followed.

One by one, they knelt beneath the red moon.

Emma stared in terror.

Kael’s expression became unreadable, but his voice was low and certain.

“The prophecy was wrong about one thing.”

Emma could barely speak. “What?”

He looked at their joined hands.

“You are not only the moonstone bearer.”

His eyes met hers again.

“You are my chosen mate.”