Moonbound to the Alpha

Feral Glimpses

Every evening after dark, Rhea headed back into the woods.

Lucci was a demanding teacher. He pushed her until her legs trembled and her lungs burned, then forced her to stand completely still in the dark, training her to hear the faint crawl of insects beneath the damp pine bark.

He taught her how to catch a scent on the mountain breeze, how to mask her own presence in the brush, and how to channel her spiking adrenaline without letting panic take over.

It was not just physical conditioning.

Some nights, when her strength was spent, he would tell her stories—old legends of the moon goddess who blessed the first wolves with their strength, and tales of ancient pack healers who broke off to wander the dark.

One night, while washing her face at the edge of the creek, Rhea looked down at her reflection in the moonlit water. Her pupils looked narrower, her nails felt thicker and sharper, and her body was visibly leaner, built for speed.

"I’m changing," she whispered, touching her collarbone.

Lucci stepped up beside her, his shadow falling over her reflection. "You’re becoming who you were meant to be."

Their sessions grew harder. He pushed her instincts to the absolute limit, teaching her to read his movements, smell fear on the wind, and react before her human mind could hesitate.

During an intense sparring match, she lunged low. He sidestepped, but she pivoted faster than before, sweeping his legs. As they tumbled down onto the soft moss, Lucci caught her securely around the waist to break her fall. They landed together, both of them out of breath, a sudden laugh breaking from her lips.

Then the laughter died away.

His hand stayed anchored on her hip, warm through her shirt. Her face was inches from his.

"I shouldn’t," Lucci murmured, his amber eyes darkening.

"You want to," she whispered back.

“Always.”

He leaned in and kissed her. It was slow and deep, taking its time. Rhea’s fingers slid into his hair, pulling him closer as his arms wrapped around her, sealing the distance between them. For a few seconds, the rushing water and the cold forest air completely faded away.

Lucci pulled back first, his breath uneven as he rested his forehead against hers. "There’s more you need to know, Rhea. Something serious."

She nodded, her pulse hammering. "Tell me."

"There’s an old prophecy," he said, his voice dropping low. "It speaks of the return of the Moonbound—the original wolf bloodline. The old tales say a true descendant will fully awaken when the blood moon rises."

"When is that?"

"Three weeks," he said. "The lunar cycle is moving too fast."

"Does anyone know who the descendant is supposed to be?"

Lucci looked straight into her eyes, unblinking. "I know it's you. I've felt it since the night you came back."

Before she could process his words, a heavy twig snapped behind them.

Lucci bolted to his feet in an instant, his broad back blocking her as his muscles tensed. "We’re not alone."

Out of the dense pine branches stepped a wolf—far larger and leaner than any wild animal, its fur matted and coarse. But it was the eyes that made her blood run cold. They were a dull, bloodthirsty red.

A rogue.

The creature bared its dark gums, let out a gut-wrenching snarl, and lunged. Lucci shifted mid-air, his human form exploding into a massive, dark-furred wolf that slammed directly into the intruder.

Rhea scrambled up, her heart in her throat. She gripped a heavy branch from the ground, her hands shaking. She could not just stand there and watch him bleed.

She charged into the fight, swinging the branch with everything she had. The heavy wood struck the rogue across its flank with a loud crack. The beast howled in fury, abandoning Lucci and turning its bloody snout toward her.

Rhea stumbled backward, losing her balance on a exposed root as the branch was knocked from her grip. The rogue sprang forward, teeth aimed for her neck—

Lucci’s massive form hit the rogue sideways in mid-air, throwing it off course. "Get back!" Lucci roared, his voice thick and distorted through his shifting jaw.

Rhea didn't retreat. She ducked under a swinging claw, rolled across the pine needles, and her fingers locked around a large stone. As the rogue tried to shake Lucci off, Rhea drove the rock deep into the creature's shoulder.

The rogue let out a pained shriek. Taking advantage of the opening, Lucci pounced, his jaws clamping down hard on the rogue's throat. A sickening crunch echoed through the clearing, followed by total silence.

The rogue collapsed onto its side, motionless.

Rhea dropped to her knees in the dirt, her breathing ragged, her hands covered in dark blood and soil.

Lucci shifted back into his human form, sinking down into the grass beside her. He reached out, his warm hands gently taking her shaking wrists. "Are you hurt? Look at me, Rhea."

She stared down at her stained fingers, tears stinging her eyes. "I—I hit it. I didn't think about it, I just reacted..."

"You survived," Lucci said gently, wiping a smudge of dirt from her cheek. "You protected us."

"I don't want to be violent," she whispered, blinking away the heat in her eyes. "I don't want to become a monster."

"You aren't a monster," he insisted, holding her gaze. "You fought to protect what matters. That isn't cruelty, Rhea. That's strength."

They spent the next hour dragging the body deep into the woods, burying it beneath the roots of an ancient cedar tree and weighing down the earth with heavy stones.

Lucci wiped his hands on his jeans, staring at the fresh grave. "He was a scout. The rest of them will come looking when he doesn't report back. We have to move faster."

"What do we do now?" she asked.

He turned to her, his jaw set. "We prepare for the blood moon. And I introduce you to the pack."

"The pack?" Rhea echoed, her nerves tightening again.

"My family. The elders," Lucci said. "They need to see what's happening. They need to see you."

Rhea's pulse spiked. "What if they don't accept me?"

"They will accept you," Lucci said, taking her hand and lacing his fingers through hers. "Because you're not just a survivor anymore, Rhea. You're the one we've been waiting for."

As they made their way back through the dark canopy toward the house, the forest felt different—darker, heavier, and teeming with unseen eyes. But Rhea didn't bow her head. She held her ground, feeling the silver pendant warm against her ribs and the steady rhythm of the wild humming in her blood.

She was a Calderon.

Her blood was waking up.

And the blood moon was coming for them both.