Luna Reborn

**Nadia's POV** “No! Please, take whatever you want—just spare me!” “Please, no! He’s my only child—spare us, I beg you!” “You’re monsters… bloodthirsty creatures who don’t deserve to walk this earth!” “Demons, that’s what you are!” The crackle of flames, the roar of burning homes, and the desperate screams echoed in the distance as my father hurried us toward the secret passageway. The sounds of violence and anguished cries pressed against my skull, threatening to shatter my thoughts. I clung tightly to my mother, terrified of being torn away from my family. Our footsteps were swift but hushed; we spoke only in whispers, desperate to avoid detection. Every creak of the wooden floor made my pulse spike. Father urged us to slip off our shoes to muffle the noise. My heart hammered as I gripped Mom even harder. I tried to block out the voices, familiar voices begging for mercy. No matter how desperately I willed the sounds away, they pierced through. “Hey! Stop those people—they’re escaping!” The shout came from behind us. I felt the sharp spike of fear radiating from my father the moment he realized we’d been spotted. “Run! Run!” His urgent command rang in my ears. A heartbeat later, Mom let out a sharp cry. A nail had pierced her foot, but she barely faltered,vwe couldn’t afford to stop. Father scooped me into his arms and surged forward, his pace frantic. “Don’t bother running,” a mocking voice called after us. “Your entire pack is surrounded. Not a single one of you will escape.” Cruel laughter followed the words. Mom’s steps began to falter. Blood soaked the ground behind her; her grip on my hand grew weaker with every stride. Her eyes dimmed. Then, with a soft gasp, she collapsed. The pursuers were closing in. There was no time. “Go, Nadia! Run!” Father shouted. “I’ll hold them off!” I froze. I couldn’t leave them, I’d rather die here than live without them. “Go, Nadia,” Mom whispered from the ground, her voice frail but fierce. “Live… for us.” Tears I’d fought so hard to contain finally spilled over. With nothing left to do, I turned and ran, my small feet pounding against the earth as fast as they could carry me. “Curse the Blood Moon pack! I’ll tear you apart!” I heard my father roar behind me as he stood his ground, blocking their path. I glanced back once. Mom’s eyes met mine across the distance. Even in that fleeting moment, I understood her silent plea "Go on, Nadia. Live for us." Her scream tore through the night—raw with grief and pain. Then another cry followed, different this time: the final, broken sound of someone leaving this world. It was Mom. My heart shattered. I refused to let those monsters have the satisfaction of catching me too. With trembling legs, I fled down the mountainside and slipped away from the Blood Moon pack. But safety was still far off. I had never left the heart of our territory before. I ran blindly, letting the wind guide me, with no idea where I was going. Above me, the moon glowed an ominous red. Behind me, the place I had once called home burned. “Blood Moon pack,” I whispered through clenched teeth, my voice thick with pain and fury, “I swear you will pay for what you’ve done.” I ran until dawn broke, my feet bruised and bleeding, my head throbbing, my vision blurring. Exhaustion finally claimed me. I collapsed in a strange place—everything felt foreign: the scent of the air, the wildflowers, the shape of the hills and trees. The world grew unnaturally still. No breeze stirred the leaves. Then the trees trembled. Branches snapped under unseen weight. Something or someone was watching me. I tried to run, but my legs refused to obey. A massive wolf burst from the shadows and lunged. No. Not like this. Not after everything my parents sacrificed. No!!! My eyes flew open. Just a dream. “Not this dream again,” I murmured, dragging myself back to reality. I sat up slowly on the thin mattress, my stiff joints popping softly. The terror still clung to me; my heart raced as though the chase were real. Seven years. Seven years since that night, and the memories still hunted me. A chilly morning breeze slipped through the cracks of the small cupboard I called a room. My thin shirt offered little protection. I hugged myself, clutching the threadbare sheet, rocking gently as I fought back the tears threatening to fall. I had promised myself long ago: never again would I be weak. “Blood Moon pack,” I whispered fiercely into the quiet, “one day, you’ll answer for everything.” I pulled the sheet tighter around my shoulders, though it barely held off the cold. In the distance, the sharp sounds of warriors training carried through the air. I pushed myself out of bed. Training was my purpose now, my only path to growing strong enough to keep my promise. After that terrible night, a group of rogues had found me. They fought off the rogue wolf that had nearly ended me and, after hearing my story, took me in as one of their own. I never truly belonged here, I was different in too many ways. Most wolves began with golden-yellow eyes that sharpened their night vision. After a first kill, those eyes often shifted to blue. Red eyes marked power and high rank among our kind. My eyes were emerald green, flecked with silver when light caught them just right. My hair fell in silvery-white waves to my waist, shimmering like moonlight on water. And then there were the other gifts: when I touched the earth, flowers bloomed, grasses reached higher, trees seemed to lean toward me. Nature answered my presence. I hadn’t always been this way. I could still picture that peaceful evening so clearly: sitting on Father’s lap while Mother sat across from us, a single candle glowing warmly between us. Laughter from children playing outside drifted through the open window. We had just finished dinner. Father lifted me gently. “Hey, cupcake, are you full?” he asked, tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear. “Yes, Dad,” I answered, smiling as I tried to smooth my own hair. I hated when it looked messy. “Mom,” I said, turning to her as she stepped back from the kitchen, “why is my hair so white?” She glanced at Father. He gave a small nod, as though granting permission for something long awaited. That night, they began to explain why my hair, and so much more about me was anything but ordinary.