Chapter One: The Rain That Woke the Blood
Rain in Seattle doesn’t fall—it presses. It leans its whole weight against the glass until even the bravest windows start to tremble.
That night, it felt personal.
The office lights on the thirty-second floor of BioFrontier burned white and merciless, reflecting off rows of sterile desks and half-dead succulents. Everyone had gone home hours ago. Everyone except me.
“Iris, don’t look at me like that,” Olivia said without lifting her eyes from her tablet. “You’re an intern. This is what interns do.”
Her heels clicked against the marble floor as she circled my desk like a patient predator. Red lipstick. Perfect hair. The kind of woman who smiled with her mouth and crushed you with everything else.
“I need the first draft of the gene-repair compound,” she continued. “Tonight.”
I swallowed. My fingers tightened around the edge of my notebook. “That data isn’t ready. You know that. It could destabilize the—”
She finally looked up. Her eyes were sharp, calculating. Hungry.
“Then I suggest you make it ready.” She leaned closer. “Or you can clear your desk tomorrow morning.”
The threat hung between us, heavier than the rain outside.
That compound was mine. My late nights. My equations scribbled on coffee-stained paper. A concept I hadn’t even dared to name out loud yet. And she wanted it handed over like spare change.
“No,” I said.
The word surprised both of us.
Olivia’s smile froze, then sharpened. “Excuse me?”
“I said no.” My heart was pounding so loudly I was sure she could hear it. “It’s unfinished. And it’s not yours.”
For a long moment, she just stared. Then she laughed softly, a sound with no warmth in it.
“Fine,” she said, tapping her tablet. “Clock out. We’ll talk about your future on Monday.”
She walked away, already done with me, like I was a problem she’d decided to solve later.
I packed my bag with shaking hands.
Outside, the city swallowed me whole.
Seattle at night was all blurred lights and slick streets, neon signs melting into the pavement under the rain. I pulled my coat tighter and started walking, my breath fogging in front of me. I told myself I was fine. That Olivia was just another obstacle. That tomorrow I’d figure something out.
That’s when I felt it.
A pressure behind my eyes. A sharp hum in my ears, like the city had suddenly turned its volume all the way up. I could hear everything—the splash of tires three blocks away, the buzz of a flickering streetlamp, the uneven breathing of someone standing far too close.
“Don’t run,” a voice said behind me.
I turned.
He stood under a broken streetlight, rain sliding off the hood of his black coat. Tall. Broad-shouldered. His presence felt wrong, like a crack in reality.
“You smell like silver,” he continued, inhaling deeply. “Like home.”
My pulse spiked. “I think you’ve got the wrong person.”
He laughed. And then his eyes changed.
Red. Burning. Inhuman.
“Silver Moon trash,” he snarled. “Your blood’s been quiet for years. I almost thought you were dead.”
I stumbled back. “What are you talking about?”
He moved faster than anything human should. One moment he was under the streetlight, the next he was in front of me, fingers curling into claws.
“Take it as mercy,” he said. “You won’t feel much.”
Something exploded inside my wrist.
Heat. Pain. Power.
The old crescent-shaped birthmark I’d had for as long as I could remember burned like it had been branded from the inside. I screamed—and the world answered.
A force surged out of me, raw and wild, slamming into him and throwing his body across the wet pavement. He crashed into a parked car with a metallic shriek.
I stared at my hands, breath coming in gasps.
What did I just do?
Before he could rise, a figure dropped between us.
“Enough, Derek.”
The newcomer moved with lethal calm. Broad frame. Dark jacket. Eyes like storm clouds.
The man I’d thrown—Derek—snarled. “You’re late, guardian.”
“Not late enough.” The stranger’s gaze flicked to me, sharp and assessing. “She’s awake.”
Derek spat blood and laughed. “Then it’s already begun.”
He vanished into the rain, faster than sight.
I swayed, knees buckling.
Strong arms caught me.
“It’s okay,” the man said quietly. “I’ve got you.”
“Who are you?” I whispered. “What was that thing?”
He reached into his pocket and pressed something cold into my palm—a silver crescent pendant, worn smooth with age.
“Eli,” he said. “And that ‘thing’ was a hunter.”
My fingers curled around the pendant, and a strange sense of rightness settled in my chest.
“This belonged to your parents,” he continued. “Your blood has been sealed for a long time, Iris. Tonight, it started to break.”
I looked up at him, rain mixing with tears on my face.
“My parents are dead,” I said. “I’m just an intern.”
Eli met my gaze, unflinching.
“No,” he said. “You’re the last pure-blood heir of the Silver Moon.”
Thunder rolled overhead.
“Come with me,” he said softly. “If you stay in this city unprotected, you won’t survive the week.”
And somewhere deep inside me, something ancient and fierce opened its eyes—and agreed.