LOGINSophia
The Full Moon Ball is only a day away, and the pressure is on. Each year different pack hosts Full Moon Ball and this is year it is Redwood Pack's turn to arrange this annual ball.
My father is leaving no stone upturn to make sure our pack's Full Moon Ball is one of the best balls that has been witnessed in the years.
Determined to get through my day without drawing any attention, I keep my head low and busy myself with the long chores that I have been assigned.
My stomach grumbles with hunger but ignoring the hunger pangs I continue sweeping the hallways floors until it is shiny enough for people to see their reflection.
Standing up with a sigh, I pick up the bucket of dirty water and carry it outside to throw the water in the bushes before resuming the cleaning of the guest house where all the Alphas and their families will be staying.
As I am polishing the silverware in the dining room, I overhear some of the higher-ranking wolves talking about the guests who will be arriving.
"Did you hear? The Blind Alpha is coming," One of them whispers.
"Really? I thought he never attended these kinds of events," another replies.
A expression of disgust passes over my face when I hear them addressing the Alpha as the Blind Alpha. No one has the right to judge someone and especially labeling them. From what I have heard he is blind, but this doesn't mean that he should be defined by his disability. I quickly shake off the thought and focus on my work, determined not to let their gossip distract me.
As the day progresses, the guest house starts to take shape. The decorators hang lavish drapes, arrange elegant centerpieces, and ensure everything is perfect for the high-ranking guests.
I take a moment to admire the beautiful decoration and feel myself smiling at the thought how beautiful everything will look once moonlight will light up the entire place.
"Sophia! Stop lazying around and get back to work!" Cynthia's sharp voice reaches my ears, her eyes cold and unforgiving.
"Yes, Luna." Nodding my head, I head back outside to tend the garden.
My hands turn raw and bleed by the time I finish clearing up the weeds and picking up the roses from the garden for the vases.
Sitting on the steps, I bend my head on my knees as I feel dizzy because of the lack of food. I haven't ate anything for the past few days, but unlike last time this time I am allowed to drink water. And that is something helping to me suppress my hunger.
Letting out another sigh, I recall the rest of the chores that I have to finish before the sunset. The rest of the day passes in a blur of chores and commands. By the time the sun sets, I'm exhausted. I return to my room, collapsing onto my bed.
As I lay there, my mind drifts to the Full Moon Ball. It's a time when many find their mates, the one person destined to be their perfect match. A small part of me clings to the hope that my mate will come and take me away from all this.
Wrapping my arms around my stomach, I curl up on my side as the pain becomes overbearing. I have a wolf, and the lack of her presence is due to the fact that my father has made her dormant by not allowing me to shift. I have only shifted into my wolf once, and now I feel even she has left me because it has been years since I have felt her presence inside me.
I let myself cry for a few minutes, the tears flowing freely because the realization hits me that I don't have anyone with me; I am all alone, not even my wolf.
"Please come and find me, you are my only hope. I need you." Closing my eyes, I whisper to my probably non-existent mate, hoping that maybe by some miracle my longing will reach out to him.
JuneI take a step toward her.And then another.Tanya watches me close the distance between us and something shifts in her expression, the satisfaction flickering, recalibrating, trying to decide what my movement means. She holds her ground. Her chin stays up. She is still operating inside the version of this where she has already won.My fist connects with her jaw before she finishes that thought.The crack of it fills the cell and Tanya's head snaps sideways and she stumbles hard into the stone wall, one hand flying up to her face. She makes a sound that is more surprise than pain, like she genuinely did not expect this, like she thought I would stand there and argue with her about what she deserves and what she does not.I do not argue.I reach for her and she swings back, wild and off-balance, her fist catching my cheekbone hard enough to make my vision blur for half a second. She is not trained. I feel that immediately in the way she moves, all desperation and no form, throwing
JuneSomething moves through me from the top of my skull down to the soles of my feet like cold water finding every crack, filling every space, settling into me until I am absolutely, completely, terrifyingly calm.The mark on his neck is wrong in a way that I feel before I fully understand it. The skin around it is bruised dark, purpling outward from a center that looks infected and angry and rotting at its edges. It does not look like something that was given. It looks like something that was taken. Forced into skin that never consented to it, that has been fighting it ever since, and losing the fight slowly in the most awful and visible way.Someone put their mark on him.On my mate.I stare at it for a moment that stretches longer than it should.Somewhere underneath the cold that has settled into me, something is burning. I can feel it distantly, the way you feel a fire in another room, present and real but separate from where you are standing right now. Rage, probably. The kind
Caleb Tanya steps closer again. Slowly. Like she already belongs in my space. The lantern light flickers across her face while she crouches in front of me, her eyes fixed on mine with that same obsessive softness that makes rage crawl beneath my skin. “You still look at me like you hate me,” she murmurs quietly. I pull harder against the silver chains around my wrists. Pain slices through my skin instantly. “I do hate you.” Instead of anger, she smiles. Like hearing that means something to her. Like even my hatred is enough attention to make her happy. “You’ll stop eventually,” she whispers. “Once you understand that I love you more than she ever could.” The bond inside my chest burns harder at her words. Like she is somewhere close. My June is close. I know she is near. My wolf stirs violently beneath the silver poisoning our system, reacting to her presence instinctively. Tanya doesn't notice the change in me... that my wolf is fighting against the effects of silver
Caleb The first thing I notice is the smell. It reaches me before consciousness fully does, before I have even opened my eyes or understood where I am or why my arms will not move the way I am telling them to. It is rot and rust and something older than both, the kind of smell that settles into stone over years and decades and does not leave because nothing has ever come through to push it out. Animal carcasses, I think, when my brain starts working again. Something dead in the corner, maybe more than one thing, the sweet-sick heaviness of it layered under damp earth and mold and the particular cold that belongs only to rooms that have not seen light in a very long time. I open my eyes. The cell is stone. That is the clearest thing. Stone walls, stone floor, a ceiling low enough that standing upright would be a near thing even without whatever is currently holding my arms behind me. There is a single source of light, a lantern or something like it, sitting on a ledge cut into the
JuneI am sitting on the edge of the bed when it happens.The window is open a few inches and the night air moves through the curtain in slow, lazy waves. I have been listening to it for the past half hour, that soft pull and release of fabric, waiting for the sound of Caleb's footsteps in the hallway. He should have been here an hour ago. This is the first time he has been late... he is never late.I pick at a loose thread on the blanket and stare at the door and try to remember the last thing he said before he left. He had brushed his fingers along my jaw. Told me to sleep. Smiled that quiet smile that he saves for moments when it is only the two of us, like it is something he does not hand out easily. I had rolled my eyes and said I would, knowing full well I would not.I never sleep well when he is not here.It is strange, how quickly that happened. How fast my body decided that his presence was a thing it needed to function properly. Months ago I could sleep anywhere, on anything
CalebThe patrol runs later than usual tonight.By the time I make it back toward the pack borders, the woods are dark and quiet, moonlight slipping through the trees in silver streaks. The cold air sticks to my skin beneath my jacket, carrying the scent of pine, damp earth, and distant rain.Usually, I like this part of the night.The silence.The feeling of my wolf settling after hours of moving through the territory.Tonight, that calm lasts exactly three seconds.A sharp mindlink crashes into my head.Caleb.My steps stop instantly.It is one of the wolves stationed near the care home.Every muscle in my body tightens.What happened?We spotted someone near the property. A girl. Young. She was watching the building from the tree line.My wolf lifts his head immediately.Danger.Where is she now?She disappeared into the woods before we could move in. We stayed in position because we thought it could be a distraction.Good.I turn sharply toward the eastern woods without wasting an
LucasWhat happens next barely exists as time. It is there and gone, like light cutting across my eyes so fast my brain lags behind it.James moves.The next second his hand turn into a claw.Arthur jerks, breath ripping out of him as James’s arm drives forward. I register the sound before I regist
AuroraLucas’s face freezes in a way I have never seen before. Not anger. Not calculation. Just pure surprise, wide-eyed and unguarded, like his thoughts tripped over each other and fell down the stairs.I laugh before I can stop myself. It slips out warm and unguarded, and that seems to shake him
AuroraWe walk again after, our steps falling into an easy rhythm like they have always known how to find each other. The night air feels softer now, cooler against my cheeks. My fingers stay laced with his, and every so often his thumb traces a quiet circle against my knuckle. Not asking. Just the
AuroraLast night with Dad stays with me in a way I did not expect. Nothing about him changes on the surface. Same posture. Same clipped tone. Same way of looking at me like he is measuring something invisible. And yet, there is something else threaded through it. Something quiet. I realize it now







