Beneath the Alpha's Moon
Chapter 294: The Bite That Changed Everything

Chapter 294: The Bite That Changed Everything

Nova’s POV

I don’t know what I expected—definitely not that.

One second, I was staring into those stormy silver eyes, completely caught in the tidal wave of emotion he’d unleashed on me, and the next... he bit me.

Not a nibble. Not some cute, playful vampire nibble.

A bite.

Sharp, hot pain bloomed on the side of my neck, and I gasped. My hands flew up instinctively, but not to shove him away—I don’t know why—maybe it was shock or the odd way it didn’t hurt as much as I thought it would. Maybe it was the part of me that already trusted him in a way I couldn’t explain.

He pulled back slowly, his lips brushing my skin tenderly, like an apology—but his eyes... his eyes were still glowing with that otherworldly intensity.

"What the actual—Eldur!" I breathed, wide-eyed. "Did you just bite me?!"

A very unbothered, very smug grin crept across his stupidly handsome face.

"Yes," he said simply, as if we were discussing snack preferences. "I did."

My hand slapped over the spot he’d bitten, my fingers trembling. "Am I going to—oh God, wait—am I going to turn? Like, full-on werewolf claws and howling at the moon and... possibly eating people?!"

He laughed.

That laugh. It was deep and smooth and completely inappropriate for the moment. He looked like I’d just asked if clouds were made of cotton candy.

"First of all, we don’t eat people, Nova." He said still laughing.

"Secondly, you’re so adorable," he chuckled. "And lastly, no, Nova. You won’t turn."

My heart was thudding in my chest. "Then why the hell did you bite me?!"

"To mark you," he said calmly. "It’s... symbolic. It tells every supernatural creature that you’re mine."

I stared at him.

"Yours," I echoed, deadpan.

"Completely," he said with a little nod. "And just so you know, your scent has changed. You smell like me now."

"Excuse me?!"

He shrugged, looking so pleased with himself it made me want to throw a rock at him. "It’s kind of romantic."

"It’s kind of psychotic."

He grinned wider.

I groaned, rubbing my temples. "Okay, so what does this whole marking thing actually do—besides making me smell like a werewolf cologne ad?"

That made something shift in his expression. The edge of amusement in his eyes softened into something deeper, more solemn. He stepped closer, slow and deliberate, and reached up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear. His touch lingered for just a second longer than necessary.

"It ties your life to mine," he said, voice low and serious.

My breath caught. "...What?"

"Our lifelines," he said, like it was sacred. "They’re linked now. If I live, your life stretches out with mine. If something ever happens to you—if you’re hurt, scared, in danger—I’ll feel it. I’ll know."

His voice dropped lower, rougher. "And if anyone ever tries to hurt you... they’ll wish they hadn’t."

I stared up at him, my heart thudding in my chest like it was trying to make sense of everything before my brain could catch up. "Wait. Hold up. When you say my life is longer... how much longer are we talking?"

"I’m immortal," he said simply.

Like it was no big deal. Like he was saying he preferred waffles over pancakes.

I blinked. "Immortal?"

He gave a soft chuckle, the kind that curled around my spine and made my stomach flutter. "Mm-hmm."

"Like... you can’t die?"

He tilted his head, eyes twinkling with something that looked like centuries of experience. "Not exactly. I can die—if someone tries hard enough. If they’re powerful. Or lucky. Or both. But unless that happens? I’ll keep on living."

I just stood there, processing.

Immortal. Bonded. Life-tied.

I had definitely not read about this part in any of the dating manuals.

I stared at him like he’d grown another head. "And now I’m immortal?!"

He nodded. "Not instantly. You’ll still age for a while. But one day, your aging will slow, then stop entirely. It’s not an exact science. Some stop at twenty-five. Some at thirty-five. It depends."

I sat down.

Just—sat.

Because what?!

I was nineteen, had barely managed to scrape through a year of college, still didn’t know how to properly fold a fitted sheet, and now I was immortal?! I couldn’t even keep a houseplant alive!

Eldur crouched beside me, watching me like he was waiting for me to faint. I almost did, to be fair.

I looked up at him, my eyes wide. "So... if you die... do I die?"

He hesitated.

Shook his head. "No. You won’t. But don’t worry about that."

I frowned. "Eldur, that’s not comforting. You don’t get to bite me, drop a bomb about immortality, and then tell me not to worry."

He smiled. "Okay, fair. But still—don’t worry. I’m not going to die."

"Well, you better not," I snapped, pointing a finger at his chest. "Because if you do, I’ll find a way to drag your stubborn ghost back and haunt you."

That made him laugh. Really laugh. The kind that lit up his entire face and made my stomach feel like it was doing backflips.

He leaned in, his eyes softening. "I promise I’ll be careful. For you."

My heart did a weird flip thing.

And then, before I could say another word, he kissed me again—under the blanket of stars, his fingers threading through my hair, the night air cool against my skin.

This time, it was softer. Sweeter. Less desperation, more devotion.

And still... it set me on fire.

His hands slid around my waist like they knew the shape of me—like they’d been there a thousand times in dreams. He pulled me in, close enough to feel the heat radiating off his skin, close enough for my heart to start syncing with his without even trying. Every brush of his fingers spoke a quiet, aching kind of desire. Not rushed. Not wild. Just... deeply certain.

As his lips were on mine, everything else faded away. Slow. Deep. Perfect. Like a promise.

I kissed him back like I meant it—because I did. With everything I had, with everything I was becoming.

And then—

He stopped.

Pulled back, just enough for the night air to slide between us like a cold whisper.

"Wait—what?" I gasped, blinking up at him, breathless and very confused. "Why are you stopping?!"

He let out a shaky breath, his forehead resting gently against mine. "Because if I don’t stop now... I won’t stop at all."

My stomach twisted with heat and hunger and frustration. "Isn’t that kind of the point?!"

A crooked smile played on his lips as he closed his eyes. "Nova, I want you more than anything. But I want our first time to mean something more. I want it to be official."

I blinked. "Official?"

He opened his eyes again—eyes that always looked like they held too many secrets. "Yeah. As mates. Under the moon. With the moon goddess as our witness."

My brain short-circuited. "Hold on. You weren’t joking before? There’s an actual moon goddess?"

"Of course," he said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"And she needs to be present for our... um, mating ceremony?"

He nodded seriously. "It’s tradition. We take our vows under the full moon. The whole pack gathers to watch. Then afterwards, they walk us to the mating house to—well, you know."

I stared at him. "That sounds a lot like marriage."

Eldur’s grin turned wolfish. "Because it is. Just... the werewolf version."

I had to blink a few more times to process. "Okay. So just to recap: You bit me to mark me. I’m now sort of immortal. You want to get married—werewolf-style—under the eyes of a literal moon goddess. And we’re waiting to have sex until after a sacred full moon ceremony and some mystical pack-led walk to what I’m assuming is a supernatural honeymoon suite?"

Eldur tilted his head, amused. "That’s pretty much the gist of it, yes."

My brain waved a white flag and gave up entirely.

He leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to the top of my head before pulling me back into his arms. We lay down on the cool grass, his warmth surrounding me, the stars silently blinking above like they knew things we didn’t.

I curled into him, breathing in the scent of pine, moonlight, and something distinctly him—wild, magnetic, and just a little stormy.

"Hey, Eldur?" I murmured.

"Hmm?"

"You said I smell like you now... but what do you smell like?"

He was quiet for a second. Then said, with the gravitas of someone announcing a prophecy:

"Victory. And a touch of danger."

I groaned. "You’re so full of yourself."

He chuckled, his chest shaking under my cheek. "And yet, you adore me."

...I didn’t even bother denying it.

Because somewhere in the middle of all this madness, in a world of moon goddesses and pack traditions and rules I barely understood—I knew something with terrifying clarity:

Eldur Daegon might be wild, dramatic, and possibly out of his supernatural mind...

But he was mine.

And I was his.

In every possible way that counted.

Even under a moon I didn’t understand—my heart had already found its home.