Channary had just put the finishing touches on her hair and makeup when her mother’s excited voice rang out from the bottom of the stairs.
“Come on! You’re going to be late for the festival!” her mother called, sounding both thrilled and impatient.
“Ma, I’m coming now… relax,” Channary replied, rolling her eyes and whispering the last word.
“I heard that!” her mother called back, voice laced with mock irritation.
Channary chuckled. “I love you,” she said, her irritation fading into a smile as she grabbed her slides and took one last look in the mirror.
The soft glow of her bedroom lanterns reflected off her ash-blonde hair, which she had twisted into a perfect, messy bun, with short curls framing her round face. Her pale purple eyes sparkled, flecked with hints of silver—a distinct mark of being Moon-Kissed. Soon, she thought, her mate would see her as she saw herself: beautiful, unique, a prize worthy of any Alpha’s daughter.
Heart racing with anticipation, Channary flew down the stairs, slipping past her younger siblings’ calls of “good luck!” But her father’s stern face, visible through the car window, made her pause. Alpha Williams sat rigidly in the driver’s seat, his jaw clenched as he fixed her with a steely gaze. Her mother, beside him, looked both proud and nervous, her excitement tempered by the weight of the ceremony.
“Channary…” Alpha Williams began, his voice thick with the warning tone she knew so well. “We’re late. Again. All because you wanted to primp.”
She managed a sheepish smile, slipping into the back seat. “Bàbà, I know. But I wanted to look amazing for my mate and represent our pack,” she said, trying to smooth the tension.
“You’re the face of Lunar Valley, Channary, and Moon-Kissed. You aren’t like other wolves, and you need to start acting like it,” he said, his voice softened by something almost like regret. Channary knew he was remembering his own childhood, marked by its own weighty expectations.
“I know, Bàbà. I’ll do better. I promise.” She held his gaze, and he gave her a nod, small but satisfied.
The rest of the drive was quiet, the car thick with unspoken tension. As they neared the festival grounds, a faint, warm light began to fill the car, filtering through the trees and mingling with the earthy aroma of pine and wet moss. Channary took in a steadying breath, already imagining the thrill of the night ahead.
Finally, her father turned right onto the dirt path that led into the clearing where the festival was held. Before the car even came to a full stop, Channary leaped out, eager to escape another lecture and lose herself in the crowd. As she stepped onto the festival grounds, her breath caught.
All around her, the clearing was alive with vibrant colors and decorations. Strands of lights draped between trees, their warm golden glow illuminating the space like starlight caught in branches. The air was thick with the spicy-sweet scents of cinnamon, nutmeg, and fresh pine resin, and soft drumming pulsed in the distance, the beat low and primal, echoing through her chest like a heartbeat. Every sound, every movement seemed to fall into rhythm with the beat, as if the Blood-Moon itself was alive and calling to them.
Festival tents in deep red and gold were scattered around the clearing, their fabric dancing in the warm night breeze. Each tent was surrounded by clusters of candles, their small flames flickering in rhythm with the breeze. Wolves from all five packs gathered in small groups, some whispering excitedly, others laughing, while more reserved pairs held hands, their gazes lifted toward the sky as they awaited the ceremony’s start.
“Chan! Over here!” a voice called. She spotted her friends standing off to the side, half-hidden behind a tall oak tree adorned with hanging lanterns. The lanterns glowed faintly, casting soft shadows that danced across her friends’ faces as they waved her over.
Channary jogged over, her bare feet sinking slightly into the cool, damp earth. She greeted her friends with a smirk, “Hello, ladies, and… boys.”
Credence, one of the boys, grinned and pulled a joint from his pocket, waving it under her nose with a playful wink. “One for the Blood-Moon?”
“Yeah, right. Alpha Williams would have my head if he ever found out,” she replied, smacking it away with a laugh.
The others chuckled, but soon their eyes grew wide, their expressions softening as a deep, resonant howl sounded from within the forest. Channary’s heart jumped, her breath catching as a thrill rippled through her, the howl seeming to vibrate in her bones. This was the moment she had dreamed of—the moment her fate could be sealed.
The crowd moved as one toward the center of the clearing, the newly turned wolves gathering in small, murmuring clusters. She found her place beside her father, the other Alphas’ packs assembling around them, forming a great circle. A wave of nerves washed over her as she realized that she and the others were about to step into The Grove, where her mate might await.
The Alpha of a neighboring pack stepped forward, his voice carrying over the crowd like a drumbeat. “Welcome, young wolves, to the Blood-Moon Unity Festival. Tonight, beneath the gaze of Selene, you take your first step into adulthood. Your bonds tonight will strengthen the unity of our packs, and our unity will strengthen the packs of our children.”
A soft murmur rippled through the crowd as he paused, his gaze sweeping over them. “Look around. Beside you, somewhere close, may be the mate who will walk with you into the future.”
The tension in the air was palpable, thick with anticipation and the promise of destiny. Channary could almost feel the Moon’s light touching her skin, casting everything in a pale, silvery glow. She looked around, wondering which face, if any, would be the one she would remember forever.
Then, as the Alpha continued speaking, an elder appeared, bearing a large chalice of burnished gold. It was filled with the Unity Cup’s potion, the rich red liquid catching the candlelight and glinting as if it were alive. Each young wolf would drink, sealing their readiness for this sacred rite, and then enter The Grove alone to find their mates.
The line of wolves moved forward, each in turn taking a sip. When Channary finally brought the cup to her lips, she caught the thick scent of wild berries and something more earthy, almost medicinal. She took a deep gulp, grimacing slightly as the heavy, sweet liquid left an unusual tang on her tongue. Her heart began to race, her body growing warm and restless, and the sounds of the festival became oddly muffled.
Channary handed back the cup and approached the glowing red portal at the entrance to The Grove, her pulse loud in her ears. As she crossed through, she was surrounded by a mist that clung to her skin, cool and heavy, as if the very air was enchanted. The woods beyond were filled with shadows and flickering shapes, the sounds of soft laughter and murmurs mingling with deeper, more primal calls.
The effects of the Unity Cup took hold quickly. Her body felt lighter yet drowsy, her vision slightly hazy as she moved deeper into The Grove. She had never seen her fellow wolves in such a state—barely hidden among the trees, some couples had already found their mates, their whispered words and shared glances building into something that felt almost electric. The scent of wildflowers, damp earth, and pine filled the air, mingling with the raw musk of newly awakened wolves, lost in the powerful draw of their instincts.
Channary found a small clearing and began arranging a soft bed of moss and fallen leaves, her movements dreamlike. She settled against the trunk of a nearby tree, waiting, her heart fluttering with the wild thrill of it all. But as she waited, her head grew heavy, her vision wavering. She tried to fight the strange drowsiness overtaking her, but the warmth from the Unity Cup was lulling her under, her breaths slowing until her eyes drifted closed.
The last thing she remembered was a warm breeze drifting through The Grove, carrying with it the faintest whisper of a scent—something dark and wild, something that stirred a memory deep within her. And then, the world faded into darkness.
Channary’s world began to blur, the vibrant colors and sounds of the festival swirling into a dizzying whirl around her. She blinked, clutching her forehead, but the haze only thickened, pressing in until she could barely tell up from down. Heart pounding, she fought to keep her eyes open, to stay steady. The strange, tingling sensation coursing through her wasn’t what she had been expecting from the Unity Cup. This was supposed to be an ancient, almost sacred experience, a rite of the Blood-Moon—so why did her mind feel like it was wrapped in fog?Something was wrong. Her parents had described the mild effects of the Cup, a warmth, a sense of clarity—nothing like this strange disorientation that made her limbs feel both heavy and weightless. She stumbled, her body swaying with each step, a sour taste building in her mouth.“This… isn’t right,” she managed to whisper, her voice weak and shaky, though her mind screamed the words. She could barely focus, struggling to push down the risin
It had been another day and a half since Channary locked herself in her room, hiding from the world, from herself, and from the life that had been shattered that night in The Grove. She lay curled in her bed, surrounded by the heavy silence, the air thick with the scent of her own despair. Shadows crept along the walls, seeming to close in on her as if even the walls knew she no longer belonged here. Her father’s voice had cut through the house several times over the past days, demanding she come down, barking his orders like she was nothing more than a misbehaving pup.It was her mother who finally entered, her expression a mix of pity, frustration, and that strange sadness Channary had seen there for as long as she could remember. She stood silently in the doorway for a moment, her eyes scanning the mess of clothes scattered across the floor, her daughter’s unkempt hair spilling over her pillow, and the dull glaze that had taken over Channary’s once bright eyes.“Chan,” her mother sa
The tension in the room was suffocating as Channary stared her father down, her heart hammering against her ribs. His words echoed in her ears—cruel, unforgiving, and final.“You’ve been nothing but a stain on this family’s name,” Roman spat, his eyes like shards of ice. “Your actions on the Blood Moon have brought shame to our entire pack. You’re not my daughter anymore.”Channary flinched, but only for a moment. Her jaw tightened as she forced herself to meet his gaze, refusing to let him see her break. Her voice, though trembling, carried a quiet, simmering rage.“You never wanted me, did you?” she asked. “Not really. You only tolerated me because I was your firstborn.”Roman’s nostrils flared, and for a moment, she thought he might deny it. Instead, he crossed his arms, his silence damning.“You wanted a son,” Channary continued, her voice gaining strength. “That’s why you’ve been trying outside of your mate, isn’t it? You think I didn’t know? You think the pack didn’t know?” Her
The sound of tiny feet racing across hardwood floors echoed through the modest house Channary had worked so hard to make a home. The twins, Sienna and Elara, were bundles of boundless energy, their laughter ringing out like chimes. Channary, now twenty-five, stood at the kitchen counter, rinsing paint brushes she had used to restore a faded piece of art she had picked up from the local flea market. Her long hair was pulled into a messy bun, strands sticking to her neck as the late afternoon sun streamed through the curtains, bathing the room in a golden glow.“Mama!” Sienna cried, bursting into the kitchen. Her dark curls bounced as she waved a drawing in her hand. “Look! I made a wolf!”Channary dried her hands on a towel and leaned down to examine her daughter’s work. The crude crayon drawing did indeed resemble a wolf, though its proportions were cartoonish. “That’s amazing, baby,” she said, ruffling Sienna’s hair. “You’ve got real talent.”Sienna beamed, but her twin, Elara, peeked
The classroom buzzed with the cheerful chaos of children at play. Laughter rang out as the twins, Elara and Sienna, darted between their classmates, their silver-streaked hair catching the light like liquid moonlight. Ms. Claire DuPont watched them closely, her wolf stirring with a strange, aching sadness as it always did when the girls were near.She couldn’t understand it. Who were these children, and why did they tug so insistently at her instincts?Throughout the day, Claire found herself watching them more than usual, taking note of the subtle but telling mannerisms they shared: the way they seemed to mirror each other without effort, the unspoken connection that made them move and react as if tethered by an invisible string. Something about them struck a chord of familiarity, though she couldn’t place where she’d seen it before.It nagged at her through math lessons, coloring time, lunch, and even during the brief moments of peace when the children napped. Claire tried to push t
The classroom buzzed with the cheerful chaos of children at play. Laughter rang out as the twins, Elara and Sienna, darted between their classmates, their silver-streaked hair catching the light like liquid moonlight. Ms. Claire DuPont watched them closely, her wolf stirring with a strange, aching sadness as it always did when the girls were near.She couldn’t understand it. Who were these children, and why did they tug so insistently at her instincts?Throughout the day, Claire found herself watching them more than usual, taking note of the subtle but telling mannerisms they shared: the way they seemed to mirror each other without effort, the unspoken connection that made them move and react as if tethered by an invisible string. Something about them struck a chord of familiarity, though she couldn’t place where she’d seen it before.It nagged at her through math lessons, coloring time, lunch, and even during the brief moments of peace when the children napped. Claire tried to push t
The sound of tiny feet racing across hardwood floors echoed through the modest house Channary had worked so hard to make a home. The twins, Sienna and Elara, were bundles of boundless energy, their laughter ringing out like chimes. Channary, now twenty-five, stood at the kitchen counter, rinsing paint brushes she had used to restore a faded piece of art she had picked up from the local flea market. Her long hair was pulled into a messy bun, strands sticking to her neck as the late afternoon sun streamed through the curtains, bathing the room in a golden glow.“Mama!” Sienna cried, bursting into the kitchen. Her dark curls bounced as she waved a drawing in her hand. “Look! I made a wolf!”Channary dried her hands on a towel and leaned down to examine her daughter’s work. The crude crayon drawing did indeed resemble a wolf, though its proportions were cartoonish. “That’s amazing, baby,” she said, ruffling Sienna’s hair. “You’ve got real talent.”Sienna beamed, but her twin, Elara, peeked
The tension in the room was suffocating as Channary stared her father down, her heart hammering against her ribs. His words echoed in her ears—cruel, unforgiving, and final.“You’ve been nothing but a stain on this family’s name,” Roman spat, his eyes like shards of ice. “Your actions on the Blood Moon have brought shame to our entire pack. You’re not my daughter anymore.”Channary flinched, but only for a moment. Her jaw tightened as she forced herself to meet his gaze, refusing to let him see her break. Her voice, though trembling, carried a quiet, simmering rage.“You never wanted me, did you?” she asked. “Not really. You only tolerated me because I was your firstborn.”Roman’s nostrils flared, and for a moment, she thought he might deny it. Instead, he crossed his arms, his silence damning.“You wanted a son,” Channary continued, her voice gaining strength. “That’s why you’ve been trying outside of your mate, isn’t it? You think I didn’t know? You think the pack didn’t know?” Her
It had been another day and a half since Channary locked herself in her room, hiding from the world, from herself, and from the life that had been shattered that night in The Grove. She lay curled in her bed, surrounded by the heavy silence, the air thick with the scent of her own despair. Shadows crept along the walls, seeming to close in on her as if even the walls knew she no longer belonged here. Her father’s voice had cut through the house several times over the past days, demanding she come down, barking his orders like she was nothing more than a misbehaving pup.It was her mother who finally entered, her expression a mix of pity, frustration, and that strange sadness Channary had seen there for as long as she could remember. She stood silently in the doorway for a moment, her eyes scanning the mess of clothes scattered across the floor, her daughter’s unkempt hair spilling over her pillow, and the dull glaze that had taken over Channary’s once bright eyes.“Chan,” her mother sa
Channary’s world began to blur, the vibrant colors and sounds of the festival swirling into a dizzying whirl around her. She blinked, clutching her forehead, but the haze only thickened, pressing in until she could barely tell up from down. Heart pounding, she fought to keep her eyes open, to stay steady. The strange, tingling sensation coursing through her wasn’t what she had been expecting from the Unity Cup. This was supposed to be an ancient, almost sacred experience, a rite of the Blood-Moon—so why did her mind feel like it was wrapped in fog?Something was wrong. Her parents had described the mild effects of the Cup, a warmth, a sense of clarity—nothing like this strange disorientation that made her limbs feel both heavy and weightless. She stumbled, her body swaying with each step, a sour taste building in her mouth.“This… isn’t right,” she managed to whisper, her voice weak and shaky, though her mind screamed the words. She could barely focus, struggling to push down the risin
Channary had just put the finishing touches on her hair and makeup when her mother’s excited voice rang out from the bottom of the stairs.“Come on! You’re going to be late for the festival!” her mother called, sounding both thrilled and impatient.“Ma, I’m coming now… relax,” Channary replied, rolling her eyes and whispering the last word.“I heard that!” her mother called back, voice laced with mock irritation.Channary chuckled. “I love you,” she said, her irritation fading into a smile as she grabbed her slides and took one last look in the mirror.The soft glow of her bedroom lanterns reflected off her ash-blonde hair, which she had twisted into a perfect, messy bun, with short curls framing her round face. Her pale purple eyes sparkled, flecked with hints of silver—a distinct mark of being Moon-Kissed. Soon, she thought, her mate would see her as she saw herself: beautiful, unique, a prize worthy of any Alpha’s daughter.Heart racing with anticipation, Channary flew down the stai