Full Moon
1024 Words
IRIS’ POV
"Care to explain what's going on?"
Darius's voice was low and serious, his dark eyes searching mine the moment the door closed behind us.
I turned away from him, trying to act normal while I removed my cloak.
"I don’t know what you’re talking about."
"I've been your friend these past few years." He stepped closer. "I know when something shakes you. And in that room earlier, I clearly noticed something."
I kept my back to him. My fingers tightened on the cloak before I decided to hung it on the hook by the wall.
"It was nothing, Darius." I turned to him, making my gaze serious and earnest. "The meeting was tense. That's all."
Silence followed.
He narrowed his eyes at me, patient, persistent, waiting for me to c***k. I knew wasn't going to let this go easily.
But I couldn't talk about it. Not yet. Not when the thought of Kael Draven's face—his silver eyes and the impossible resemblance between him and my son—was still churning inside me like a storm I couldn't control.
If I said it out loud, I fear it would become real.
And I wasn't ready for that.
"We should focus on the mission," I said, finally turning to face him. My voice was steady and controlled. "We need to prepare for tomorrow’s investigation."
Darius studied me for a long moment. I could see the questions forming behind his eyes—the urge to push, to probe, to demand answers I wasn't willing to give.
Then, slowly, he exhaled.
"Fine." The word was clipped. He wasn't satisfied. But he let it go.
I nodded, grateful that he finally let the topic pass, but didn't show it on my face.
We spent the next hour discussing the investigation—reviewing the reports from the Eastern Alphas, analyzing the patterns of the attacks, mapping patrol routes and corrupted zones.
But even as I spoke about the mission—about the missing packs and the wolves turning on their own—my mind kept drifting. To silver eyes. To a small face that mirrored a larger one. To questions I couldn't afford to ask.
Darius noticed. Of course he did. But he didn't push again.
Eventually, we called it a night.
"Get some sleep," he said at the door, his tone firm. "Tomorrow will be long."
"You too."
He paused, his hand on the frame. For a moment, I thought he might say something—ask the question he'd been holding back all night.
Instead, he just gave me a curt nod and left to the room next to mine.
---
The room was quiet after he left.
Too quiet.
I lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling, but sleep refused to come. Every time I closed my eyes, a face appears—sharp jaw, dark hair, silver eyes burning through the darkness.
Kael Draven.
I hadn't expected this.
When I accepted the mission, I knew I would meet the him. I'd prepared myself for it. But nothing could have prepared me for the reality of sitting across from him, seeing his face clearly for the first time, and feeling my entire world tilt off its axis.
Lucian looked like a smaller version of him.
Not vaguely. Not in the way strangers sometimes share passing features.
Every feature was almost exactly the same. The same jawline. The same brow. The same dark hair. And those silver eyes—the exact same shade that stared up at me every morning when my son woke.
For five years, I had wondered about the man from that night. For five years, I had pushed the question away because there was nothing to connect him to anyone. No face. No name. No identity.
But now—
I pressed my hands against my face, a great turmoil swirling inside my chest.
I wanted to deny it. I wanted to dismiss it as nothing more than a series of impossible coincidences. But the more I pieced everything together, the more impossible it became to ignore.
Because Kael Draven wasn't just any wolf. He was the Alpha King. He was also at the Summit five years ago. He had silver eyes. And coincidentally, he was also searching for a woman with a butterfly mark on her nape.
My butterfly mark.
I rolled onto my side, trying to force my mind toward the mission. Anything but him.
But the thoughts kept circling back—connecting dots I didn't want connected, drawing lines I didn't want to see.
But suddenly, something caught my attention.
A pale light spilling through the window—brighter than it should have been at this hour. Silver. Cold. Familiar.
I turned toward it.
And froze.
The moon hung heavy and full outside my window, pouring silver light directly into the room.
There was a full moon tonight.
Just as the realization hit me, a wave of heat rushed through my body—sudden, overwhelming, impossible to control. It started in my core and spread outward, burning through my veins like liquid fire.
My shields.
I could feel them cracking.
Piece by piece. Layer by layer. The walls I had built that concealed my scent—were splintering under the full moon's pull.
No, no, no—
I pressed my hand against my chest, trying to force the shields back up, trying to suppress what was rising inside me.
They held—barely. But I could feel them slipping. Like holding water in a cracked vessel.
I could feel it—seeping through the fractures, bleeding into the air around me.
Suddenly, I heard footsteps approaching the door before a knock came.
"Iris!"
Darius's voice called me from outside, urgent and tense.
I crossed the room in three strides and yanked the door open.
He stood in the hallway, his face dark. His nostrils were flared, his jaw clenched so tight the muscles in his neck stood out. I could see his wolf riding just beneath the surface, fighting for control.
His eyes met mine.
"Your scent," he said, his voice strained. "I can smell your scent right now."
- Writer
