The moon ca out earlier than I wished it to.
The Full Moon.
It was a curse to .
The night my parents were slained right in front of , I still rember the Full Moon shining brightly that night like it was any normal night.
Tonight, I am being thrown out to my inevitable death.
And it is still out, yet again, like it is any normal night.
Though the night outside was alive with celebration.
I could hear the music, the drunken laughter, the howls of wolves shifting for the first ti. It was a sacred night for them, so were making their first turn, others finding their mates, all basking in the blessing of the full moon.
For them, tonight was joy. A night of triumph.
For , it was a death sentence.
I sat curled in the corner of my attic room, my arms wrapped tightly around my knees. The cold air seeped through the cracked wooden walls, yet sweat clung to my skin. Beads of it ford on my forehead, sliding down my temples.
I had thought I was strong enough. I had told myself I wouldn’t be scared.
I was wrong.
It wasn’t death that unsettled . I had made peace with the fact that my life would end. What truly terrified was them, the Lycans.
Primal. Ruthless. The first of our kind.
I’ve heard terrifying stories about them growing up.
They weren’t just powerful, they were sothing else entirely, sothing untad. Even the strongest Elite Packs feared them. And I was being handed to them.
My heartbeat pounded against my ribs, fast, erratic.
I tried to breathe, to steady myself. But the night stretched on, the celebrations outside roaring louder, and my skin burned hotter despite the cold.
Then.....
The music stopped.
The laughter faded into nothing.
And in its place... silence.
A stillness so complete, so unnatural, it sent a shiver through my bones.
Every wolf outside sensed it, the shift in the air, the weight of sothing greater, sothing more powerful than any of them.
I didn’t need to see them to know.
They were here.
The Lycans had arrived.
A sharp bang shattered the silence as my door was kicked open.
I barely had ti to flinch before Alpha Wyatt strode in, Stephen right behind him, flanked by warriors. Their grins were cruel, their eyes alight with a twisted sort of glee.
Stephen clicked his tongue. "Look at that. The little rat is still hiding up here."
"Don’t tell you thought you could actually hide in this attic forever?" Wyatt mocked, stepping forward. His voice was filled with triumph, his posture dripping with arrogance. "It’s ti, girl. The Lycans have arrived to get you and we can not afford to make them wait."
My stomach twisted, but I forced myself to et his gaze. I wouldn’t beg.
Wyatt smirked, taking my silence as defeat. "Well, don’t just sit there. Get up."
I didn’t move.
A hand, Stephen’s, suddenly yanked up by my arm, dragging forward. I stumbled, my body still weak from yesterday’s beating. Laughter erupted around .
"Pathetic," one of the warriors sneered.
Stephen leaned in close, his breath hot against my ear. "I hope you know how to scream," he whispered, his voice dripping with mock concern. "I hear Lycans like it when their prey struggles."
They laughed again, the sound ringing in my skull as they dragged down the stairs.
They dragged out like an animal, my bare feet scraping against the rough wooden floor, then the frozen dirt as we stepped outside. My body was weak, sore from yesterday’s beating, but I refused to stumble. I refused to give them that satisfaction.
The night was deafeningly silent.
Hundreds of eyes watched as I was pulled into the center of the pack grounds. No one spoke. Not the warriors. Not the Ogas. Not even the newly-shifted wolves who had celebrated just minutes ago.
They all stood still, their faces a mixture of amusent, pity, and indifference.
And in the middle of it all, it stood waiting.
A black wooden cart connected to a single massive horse. The beast’s breath ca in heavy huffs, mist curling from its nostrils in the cold air.
Beside the cart stood a man.
He was tall, imposing, his broad shoulders covered by a long, flowing black cloak. A hood shadowed most of his features, but I could see his eyes.
Red.
Deep, blood-red eyes that locked onto with an unnatural stillness.
A chill ran down my spine.
There was no emotion in that stare. No amusent like the pack that dragged here. No cruelty, no interest. Just silence.
He was waiting.
Waiting for .
My breath ca in shallow pants. I knew, I knew I was looking at sothing not normal. Not just another werewolf.
A Lycan.
Even Wyatt, the man who ruled this pack with fear, did not speak imdiately. The presence of this man commanded more than just power. It was sothing deeper, sothing that made even these arrogant wolves cautious.
Wyatt finally spoke, but for the first ti in my life, his voice wasn’t dripping with arrogance.
It was shaky. Careful.
"This... this is the ShadowFang Pack’s candidate for the Lunar Crest Academy scholarship," he said, forcing authority into his tone, but it was clear as day, he was scared.
Everyone was.
"The girl’s na is Lorraine Anderson."
The Lycan said nothing. He didn’t even acknowledge Wyatt’s words.
He simply lifted a single hand.
A silent motion towards the cart.
Wyatt practically lunged at , grabbing my arm so hard pain shot through my shoulder. Before I could react, he threw inside like discarded trash. I hit the wooden floor of the cart, my already bruised body aching from the impact.
Then, he leaned in close.
His breath was hot against my ear as he whispered, low enough that only I could hear, "I wish you the most painful, most agonizing death imaginable."
I didn’t respond.
Not because I had nothing to say, but because I saw the glint in his eyes.
The sick, twisted satisfaction.
He wanted to see break. He wanted to see beg, to cry, to fear what was coming.
So I did nothing.
I just stared at him.
And that must have angered him more than anything else, because his lips curled, his fists clenched—
But the Lycan shifted slightly, a re tilt of his head, and Wyatt imdiately took a step back.
Without a word, the cloaked figure turned, climbing onto the massive beast of a horse with effortless grace.
The pack watched in silence.
The reins flicked.
And just like that, we were moving.
I didn’t look back.
I didn’t have to.
I already knew... no one was mourning my departure.
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