Blood Moon Rising
1397 Words
The lodge was too quiet after the Nightclaw pack’s departure. Elena sat by the fire, her fingers tracing the edge of the woven blanket draped over her legs. The flames flickered, casting long shadows across Kieran’s face as he paced the room like a caged beast.
“They’ll be back,” he muttered, his claws flexing at his sides. “And next time, they won’t kneel.”
Elena tightened her grip on the blanket. “They called me Moonweaver.”
Kieran stopped mid-step, his golden eyes locking onto hers. “A title from the old legends. The last Moonweaver died centuries ago—torn apart by the very wolves she tried to save.”
A shiver ran down Elena’s spine. “Charming.”
He crossed the room in three strides, crouching before her, his hands gripping the arms of her chair. “You need to understand what’s at stake. The Blood Moon isn’t just a celestial event. It’s a curse. And every wolf alive is bound to it.”
Elena leaned forward until their foreheads nearly touched. “Then unbound them.”
Kieran’s growl was low, dangerous. “It’s not that simple.”
“Make it simple.”
For a moment, she thought he’d snap. Instead, he exhaled sharply, his breath warm against her lips. “The curse was cast by the first alpha, a punishment for betrayal. Every Blood Moon, the packs are forced to fight—to kill—until only one remains standing. The last pack claims dominion over the others… until the next cycle.”
Elena’s stomach twisted. “That’s barbaric.”
“It’s survival.” His fingers brushed her cheek. “But you… you could change everything. The Moonweaver’s power can break the curse—or control it.”
She swallowed hard. “And if I fail?”
Kieran’s gaze darkened. “Then the Blood Moon will claim us all.”
---
The next morning, the lodge buzzed with tension. Wolves moved in hushed groups, their eyes darting toward Elena whenever they thought she wasn’t looking. Even Layla kept her distance, though her earlier hostility had faded into wary respect.
Only Rylan dared approach, his usual smirk replaced by solemnity. “You’ve got them spooked, Moonweaver.”
Elena arched a brow. “Including you?”
He chuckled, but it lacked its usual warmth. “Oh, I’ve been spooked since the moment Kieran dragged you in covered in blood.”
Before she could respond, Kieran’s voice cut through the room. “Elena.”
He stood at the door, his expression unreadable. “We’re leaving.”
She didn’t ask where.
---
The forest was eerily still as they trekked deeper into the mountains. Snow crunched underfoot, the air so cold it burned Elena’s lungs. Kieran walked ahead, his broad shoulders blocking the worst of the wind, but even his presence couldn’t dispel the unease coiling in her gut.
“Where are we going?” she finally asked.
Kieran didn’t look back. “To the source.”
An hour later, they reached a clearing—a perfect circle of untouched snow, ringed by towering stones etched with ancient runes. At its center stood a single, gnarled tree, its branches bare and black against the pale sky.
Elena’s pulse spiked. “What is this place?”
“The Heart of the Moon.” Kieran stepped into the clearing, his boots sinking into the snow. “Where the first alpha made his pact.”
She followed, her skin prickling as she crossed the threshold. The moment her foot touched the center, the runes glowed, a faint silver light pulsing in time with her heartbeat.
Kieran’s eyes widened. “It recognizes you.”
Elena barely heard him. The tree’s branches trembled, and then—
Visions.
Floods of images crashed into her mind: wolves tearing into each other under a crimson moon, a woman with silver eyes weaving moonlight like thread, a dagger plunged into a alpha’s heart, blood soaking the snow—
“Elena!”
Kieran’s voice yanked her back. She gasped, her knees buckling, but he caught her before she could fall.
“What did you see?” he demanded, his grip bruising.
She clutched his arms, her breath coming in ragged bursts. “The curse… it wasn’t just a punishment. It was a trade.”
Kieran stilled. “What?”
“The first alpha didn’t just betray his pack—he sold them. To something… else.” She met his gaze, her voice dropping to a whisper. “The Blood Moon isn’t a curse. It’s a feast.”
His snarl sent birds scattering from the trees. “Who?”
Elena’s lips parted—
A howl cut through the silence.
Not just one. Dozens.
Kieran whirled, shoving Elena behind him as shadows emerged from the trees. Wolves—more than she’d ever seen—their eyes glowing like embers in the dim light.
At their head stood a figure cloaked in black, his face hidden beneath a hood.
“Kieran Blackthorn,” the figure intoned, his voice like gravel and smoke. “You were warned.”
Kieran’s claws unsheathed. “Who the hell are you?”
The figure lowered his hood.
Elena’s blood turned to ice.
Theron.
But not the broken alpha she’d left in the snow. This man’s eyes burned crimson, his skin etched with the same runes as the stones.
“You should have killed me,” he said, smiling.
Then he moved.
Faster than any wolf Elena had seen, Theron lunged, his claws aimed straight for Kieran’s throat.
Kieran barely dodged, the strike grazing his shoulder, drawing blood. He retaliated with a brutal swipe, but Theron twisted mid-air, landing gracefully behind him.
Elena’s power surged, moonlight gathering at her fingertips—
A hand clamped over her mouth, yanking her back.
“Ah-ah,” a voice purred in her ear. “None of that.”
Layla.
Elena elbowed her hard, breaking free, but it was too late. Theron’s wolves closed in, their snarls filling the clearing.
Kieran fought like a demon, his body a blur of motion, but even he couldn’t take them all.
Theron laughed. “Submit, Blackthorn. Or watch her die.”
A wolf lunged at Elena, fangs bared—
“NO!”
The world exploded in light.
Moonlight erupted from Elena’s skin, lashing out like living tendrils, spearing through the wolves closest to her. They dropped like stones, howling as the light burned them from the inside out.
Theron staggered back, his crimson eyes wide. “Impossible—”
Elena didn’t let him finish.
She pushed, her power slamming into him, lifting him off his feet. His body convulsed as the light wrapped around him, tighter, tighter—
“Elena!” Kieran’s voice cut through her rage. “Stop!”
She turned, her vision tinged silver. “Why?”
He gripped her wrists, his eyes desperate. “Because this is what it wants. The more you use it, the more it takes.”
She wanted to argue—wanted to kill—but the bond between them pulsed, a lifeline in the storm.
Slowly, the light faded.
Theron collapsed, gasping, his runes flickering like dying embers.
The remaining wolves fled.
Silence.
Then—
A low, inhuman laugh.
Theron’s body twisted, his limbs snapping at unnatural angles, his mouth stretching too wide.
“You cannot win,” he rasped, his voice no longer his own. “The Blood Moon comes. And she is hungry.”
With a final, guttural snarl, his body dissolved into shadow, vanishing into the wind.
Elena stared at the empty space where he’d been.
Kieran’s grip on her tightened.
“We need to go. Now.”
---
The lodge was in chaos when they returned. Wolves barked orders, packed supplies, sharpened weapons.
Rylan met them at the door, his face grim. “The Nightclaw pack just sent word. The Blood Moon rises tonight.”
Kieran cursed. “Gather everyone. We move in an hour.”
Elena caught his arm. “Move where?”
His jaw clenched. “To the battlefield.”
Her stomach dropped. “You’re going to fight.”
“No.” His eyes burned into hers. “We are.”
She opened her mouth to protest—
The bond between them flared, a searing heat that stole her breath.
Kieran’s next words were a vow.
“Together.”
Outside, the sky darkened.
Somewhere, the Blood Moon smiled.
- Writer
