THE FORGOTTEN HEIRESS OF THE MOON KINGDOM

"What are you?"

That question haunted Elara as she disappeared into the dark.

She didn't stick around to find out.

She just ran.

Branches slapped her cheeks, tearing at her as she crashed deeper into the woods, clutching her bleeding arm.

She didn't have a plan. Didn't need one.

There was only one thing she knew for sure: Prince Kael Draven wanted her dead.

And yet

He'd looked terrified when she got hurt.

Glancing over her shoulder, she saw nothing. No soldiers. No horses. The prince was nowhere in sight.

Still, she kept running, even when her lungs began to burn and her legs threatened to give out.

Finally, she stumbled into a clearing and dropped hard beside a massive old tree.

For a while, she just lay there, gulping for air.

Then her focus shifted to her arm.

The cut didn't look as bad as she'd thought. Really, it was the silvery mark that caught her eye a perfect crescent moon on her wrist, glowing under her skin.

Cautiously, she touched it. It was warm. Strangely warm. Almost like it had a pulse.

"What are you?" she whispered repeating Kael's question to the crescent.

Right then, the mark throbbed.

She yanked her hand back, startled. "No."

She stared. The silver faded.

She told herself it was just exhaustion, or a trick of the night. Everything since the prince first found her had felt like a bad dream.

Elara closed her eyes, but Kael's face wouldn't go away.

His cold, official stare. His drawn sword. His harsh command.

Kill her.

Yet the shock in his eyes when she was hurt still nagged at her. And then his blood.

Why had he bled?

She'd seen it, soaking through his shirt. But she hadn't seen any wound.

She stood, swaying a little.

"I need to get home."

She hadn't even taken three steps before the distant thunder of horses cut through the air.

Her blood turned to ice.

They were coming. Again.

She ran.

Miles away, Prince Kael lingered in the clearing.

His men had scattered after the girl, tearing through the trees, but he'd stayed behind.

His eyes stayed glued to the spot where Elara disappeared.

A soldier crept up behind him. "Your Highness?"

Kael didn't answer.

"Should we keep searching?"

Kael looked down at his hand. Blood covered his palm. His own blood, he was sure, but he couldn't find any cut.

Slowly, he pulled off his glove.

There it was silver crescent, just like the one on the girl's wrist.

His jaw clenched. No way. He'd only seen that symbol once, buried deep in a forbidden book his father kept hidden in the royal archives.

Kael squeezed his fist around the mark. "Get my horse."

The soldier hesitated. "And the girl?"

A muscle jumped in Kael's jaw. "Find her."

"Alive?"

Kael waited a beat, silent, hand tight on the mark, which grew warmer too warm.

A stab of pain shot through his chest. He doubled over.

"Your Highness!" the soldier called, rushing toward him.

Kael waved him off. "Stay back."

He shoved himself upright. Just like that, the pain was gone.

He stared at the darkness, uneasy.

There was something between him and that girl, something ancient and electric. He hated not knowing what it was especially when it put his life in danger.

"Search the eastern woods," he snapped.

"Yes, Your Highness."

"And don't touch her."

The soldier frowned. "But you told us to kill her."

Kael's eyes flashed. "I changed my mind."

The soldier bowed and hurried off.

Kael stared at the silver crescent on his hand, his father's old warning echoing in his mind:

Never wake the Moon.

He squinted at the night. "Who are you?"

Elara made it to the edge of the woods just as dawn started to break. The sight of the little cottage nearly made her cry.

Home.

She hurried toward it then froze.

The door stood open.

Her heart dropped.

She crept forward. "Mrs. Vale?"

No answer.

She pushed the door open; the cottage was a mess. A chair knocked over, a cup shattered on the ground.

Elara barely breathed. "Mrs. Vale?"

She searched every room. Nothing. Nobody.

Then, on the kitchen table a folded note.

Her name, scrawled across the paper:

ELARA.

Her hands shook as she opened it.

RUN. DO NOT RETURN.

She stared, cold and sick.

Someone had taken the only person she'd ever called family. Why?

She turned to the window. From outside: hoofbeats.

One horse. Another. Then more.

Royal soldiers.

They'd found her again.

Elara spun around desperately. Nowhere to hide.

Then she felt it heat, rising under her sleeve.

She looked down.

The silver crescent on her wrist was blazing now, bright as real moonlight.

"What is happening?"

She put her fingers to it 

BOOM.

A deep, ancient bell note rolled through the land.

Elara stopped in her tracks.

Miles away, inside the royal palace, everyone froze servants, guards, even the king himself. For eighteen years, the palace had heard nothing from the old Moon Temple.

But now, high above in the eastern tower, the great silver bell began to ring.

On the echo rattled the palace.

Twice the king's hands trembled.

Three times an old servant crumpled to the ground, sobbing.

"No..."

The king stared at the distant tower. "That's impossible."

The bell rang again a fourth, final note.

He whispered a name no one had dared speak for eighteen years.

"Princess Elara..."

Deep in the woods, Elara heard the echo die.

Outside her cottage, the soldiers suddenly fell quiet.

The silver mark on her wrist grew almost blinding.

And for the first time, a voice slipped inside her head.

A woman's voice soft, ageless. Waiting.

"My child..."

Elara almost couldn't breathe.

The voice whispered again.

"You have finally awakened."