Aurora’s Perspective
My na is Aurora. I’m eighteen, the so-called ‘princess’ of the Moonlight Pack—at least, that’s what everyone around seems to think. God, listen to that title. How ridiculous.
At eighteen, my life should be full of college parties, road trips, and hilariously bad hookups. Not trapped in this massive, cold mansion of glass and stone, saddled with family duty, having awkward weekly dinners with so other pack’s ‘promising young heir.’
Ethan, my father, Alpha of one of the largest werewolf packs in the state. He’s as steady and unyielding as a glacier. The love in his eyes when he looks at feels... heavy, like a mountain about to crush my shoulders.
Lily, my mother, once a livewire, now the picture of elegant grace as the pack’s Luna. But her nagging has only gotten stronger—endless lectures on ‘poise,’ ‘duty,’ and ‘suitable matches.’
Then there’s my brother, Lex. Sixteen, the future Alpha-in-training. He’s deep in that insufferable teenage phase, drowning in hormones and self-importance, trying to mimic our father’s stoicism and failing miserably. And Kai, Xavier’s son, seventeen, the future Beta, Lex’s shadow and yes-man. Together, they’re insufferable.
The only person who makes this dull life remotely interesting is Brett. Uncle Jacob and Aunt Selena’s son. Fourteen. God, ti flies. I can vaguely rember him as a squalling baby. Now he’s this lanky kid who follows around like a puppy. He hasn’t had his first shift yet—which is late, and worries Uncle Jacob—but in every other way, he’s like Aunt Selena: quietly, stubbornly clever, with that sa intense focus in his brown eyes. He looks up to like a sister, or... so kind of idol. It’s a responsibility, but honestly? I’d rather hang out with Brett than any of those posturing ‘pack elites.’
Take tonight, for example.
"Are you sure this is safe, Aurora?" Brett’s voice was muffled by the wind, his arms wrapped a little too tightly around my waist from the back of my modified black dirt bike. We were tearing down an unused service road on the city’s industrial fringe, engine roaring, the streetlights blurring into streaks.
"Safe?" I laughed, the sound echoing inside my helt, full of rebellious glee. "Brett, sweetie, safe is for old people! Hold on!" I cranked the throttle. The bike leaped forward like an angry panther, tires screeching. Adrenaline scread in my veins. The wind ripped at my leather jacket. It felt incredible—freedom, control, an escape from that damn mansion and its endless expectations.
Brett sucked in a breath behind but said nothing else, his grip tightening. I knew he loved the thrill too; he was just raised by Jacob and Selena to be cautious, and the delayed shift made him insecure. Taking him out for so chaos was my version of being a ‘responsible’ big sister—showing him the world outside the rules.
We wove through the monstrous shadows of stainless-steel pipes and half-built factories, heading for the winding mountain roads further out. Our secret track. Lots of curves, no caras. The moon was huge, almost full, casting a silver glow. My wolf blood stirred, craving a real run, but reason and this human skin held it back.
Right after a sharp turn, blinding red-and-blue lights exploded ahead at an intersection! Not one car, but three interceptors, plus bikes! Damn it! Cops? Here? This road was supposed to be deserted!
"Hold on!" I snarled, instantly deciding—*can’t stop!* We’re werewolves, but Brett can’t shift yet. If we’re caught, searched, our parents contacted... it would be a disaster, especially for my ‘respectable’ parents. I had to break through!
I wrenched the handlebars, tires screaming in protest as I veered off the road, charging into the overgrown scrubland beside it. The bike bucked violently over the rough terrain. Brett grunted behind . Sirens wailed in pursuit as bikes and an SUV plowed off-road after us.
"Aurora!" Brett shouted.
"Don’t panic! Just hold on!" I gritted my teeth, slamd the throttle wide open, relying on werewolf reflexes and night vision to pick a path through the darkness, swerving madly. I knew there was a thick patch of woods a few miles ahead. If we could just reach it...
The chase lasted maybe ten minutes, heart-stoppingly close. A few near-misses with being flanked, avoided only by the bike’s agility and my reckless driving. I could feel Brett’s tension, his heartbeat thudding against my back. Almost there! The tree line was just ahead!
Just as I spotted a gap and aid for it, the headlights of an old, seemingly abandoned truck to my side flared to life. Its door flew open, and a heavy-duty steel cable—a tripwire—snapped taut across our path!
"FUCK!" No ti to react. The front wheel hit the cable. The bike flipped violently, catapulting Brett and into the air.
A whirl of sky and ground. Impact. Pain. I tucked my head, rolling several tis over rough dirt, my leathers scraping on gravel. Werewolf constitution ant I caught my breath quickly—just scrapes and bruises. I snapped my head up, searching for Brett.
He was sprawled a few yards away, clutching his arm. Worse, figures were jumping from the old truck—not in police uniforms, but dark tactical gear, moving with swift, professional precision, heading straight for Brett!
The police cars closed in, but the tac-gear team was faster. One touched sothing with a faint electrical buzz to Brett’s neck. Brett’s body went rigid, then limp as they hauled him up.
"Brett!" I roared, surging to my feet to charge, but two officers blocked my path, tasers and bright flashlights in hand.
"Miss, you’re under arrest for reckless endangernt and evading arrest! Cooperate!" one barked, though his eyes and his partner’s kept flicking to the n taking Brett away, their expressions... confused?
"Who are they?! Where are you taking him?!" I struggled, my wolf churning with rage and fear, claws threatening to push through my fingertips.
"Not your concern. We’ll handle it," the other cop said coldly, reaching for my arm.
The mont his hand was about to grab , sothing inside snapped. Not a shift, but the raw limit of wolf-speed and strength in human form. I dropped low, dodging his grasp, drove an elbow into his ribs, and as he doubled over with a groan, I bolted into the nearest pocket of darkness.
Shouts and pounding footsteps followed. But I was faster. I knew the dark. I flew over the rubble like a shadow, ducked into a maze of pipes, and lost them using mory and scent.
Only when I was sure I’d shaken them, I stopped behind a massive, rusted storage tank, breathing hard. The scrapes stung, but what chilled was the scene. That wasn’t a normal bust. Those n in tactical gear, their precision, targeting Brett specifically... and the cops’ weird deference.
Brett was taken. By who? Why?
My mind raced. I had to get back. Warn the pack. Warn Uncle Jacob and Aunt Selena! This was way bigger than getting grounded.
But my bike was wrecked. My phone was lost in the crash. And... if my parents found out I took Brett joyriding and *this* happened...
Damn it! I forced calm. First, get out of this area. Find a safe spot to contact ho. *Brett, hang on. I’ll get you out.*
I wiped gri and a trickle of blood from my face, getting my bearings. Just as I was about to move, a sharp, burning pain erupted at the base of my neck—like a giant wasp sting! I spun around, catching only a blur of movent before a powerful paralysis swept through my body. My vision swam, tilted, then went dark.
My last coherent thought before oblivion swallowed : *Professionals... Brett...*
*
Brett’s Perspective
My neck hurt. Numb. I felt dizzy and sick. I woke up groggy, finding myself in a hard chair, my wrists locked to the armrests with cold tal cuffs. The room was small, windowless, lit by a single harsh, white light overhead. It slled of antiseptic and old dust.
This wasn’t a police station. At least, not any I knew of. No noise, no other prisoners. A terrible, heavy quiet.
I rembered... Aurora’s bike flying... falling... then the sting in my neck, and nothing. Where’s Aurora? Did she get away? I hope she got away. If Mom and Dad find out I went riding with Aurora and ended up here... God, I can’t think about it. They’ll be so angry. And so worried. Mom especially.
The door opened. Two n walked in. They wore uniforms, but not regular police uniforms. More like... security or special forces? Dark blue, no clear badges. One older, with a stern face and sharp eyes. The other younger, holding a tablet.
They didn’t hit or yell. That made it worse. They sat across from . The older one spoke, his voice flat and cool.
"Na."
"...Brett." I said quietly. No point hiding that.
"Last na."
I hesitated. "Jacobsen." I said. A flutter of panic. Did they know who Jacob was? That I’m a werewolf?
The older man tapped on his tablet. The younger one just watched , his gaze making my skin crawl.
"Fourteen?" the older one asked.
I nodded.
"Relationship to the female on the motorcycle?"
"She’s... like my sister." I mumbled. Aurora *was* like a sister.
"Was she in the habit of engaging in this kind of dangerous activity?"
"Not really..." I looked down. Their questions felt off. Like the focus wasn’t entirely on the riding.
The older man leaned forward slightly, his eyes boring into mine. "Brett. Have you experienced any... unusual physical changes recently? A sudden increase in strength, for example? Heightened sensitivity to moonlight? Or... difficulty controlling your emotions when agitated?"
My heart slamd against my ribs! What was he asking? What was he hinting at? Did they *know*? About werewolves? Impossible! The pack was always careful. Mom and Dad taught to hide it since I was little.
"No," I shook my head imdiately, trying to look like a normal, scared fourteen-year-old. "I just... run fast sotis. All boys do." I let my voice quaver on purpose.
The two n exchanged a look. The younger one frowned, typing on his tablet.
They asked a few more harmless questions—about school, my address (I gave a fake one). Then the older man stood.
"Wait here. Soone will be along to process you." He and the younger man walked out. The door closed with a definitive *click* of the lock.
Alone again under the brutal light, my wrists aching from the cuffs, fear began coiling up my spine. They knew *sothing*.
*Aurora, where are you? Co find . You’re smart, you can do it. If you’re caught too...* No, don’t think about that.
Ti dragged. Hours, maybe? I was hungry, thirsty, my neck still throbbing. Just as I was drifting into an uneasy doze, the door opened again.
This ti, it wasn’t the two n. A figure in a one-piece uniform, hat, and face mask walked in, features completely hidden. He carried nothing. Silently, he unlocked one of my cuffs and gestured for to stand.
I stood, legs stiff. He didn’t speak, just pushed out of the room, down a dimr corridor, and through a heavy tal door into another room.
It was a cell. A bare cot. A stainless-steel toilet. The air was stale. And what made freeze was the person already sitting in the corner.
A man. He looked ragged, unshaven, clothes worn. He was curled up. But when the door clanged shut behind , he lifted his head.
In that instant, every hair on my body stood up. Not from fear, but from... *instinct*. A feral, wild, alert presence slamd into my senses. A fellow predator. Assessing.
He was a werewolf. I was sure of it.
He stared at . I stared back. His eyes held an unstable, faint golden glint in the poor light. He didn’t speak. Just watched , like a lone wolf sizing up a stranger in its territory.
My heart sank like a stone.
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