Fated Under the Full Moon: Love Between Enemy Packs

Being a werewolf was absolutely thrilling. Being the heir of a Pack, however, was an absolute disgrace if you were born a woman. My name is Vittoria, and I’m the future heir of the Amber Grove Pack, which is quite unusual for a woman. I am taller than most, a characteristic that comes with being a Luna. My skin is as white and radiant as the full moon, and my large green eyes are striking against a face dotted with freckles. My fiery red hair flows down my back, adding to my distinctive appearance. My father, Alpha Raphael, and my mother, Luna Livia, raised me to be strong, independent, and ready to lead my pack. However, my pack, being one of the ancient ones, was more traditional: my husband would be the Alpha, and I would "just" be his Luna. Our land was vast, with a variety of weather and different terrains that made our warriors experts on every battlefield. My training growing up included water, mountains, and sand; I could fight anywhere—except on snow or ice. Sometimes, this worried me. But that day, I couldn't afford to think about it. I was focused; my eighteenth birthday was approaching, and I would finally shift into a powerful werewolf. My parents had arranged a party at our pack house. A few members of our pack attended, along with some of my parents' select “worthy” classmates, and I noticed a few werewolves chosen by my mother, whom she hoped would become my mates. I wasn't ready to mate yet. For werewolves, it’s an instinctual thing that clouds your mind. I needed to focus on other things; I had to be present for my pack. As a future Luna, I was naturally popular at school. Everyone needed something from me, and I needed to know my pack. So, I meticulously recorded names and details about them, keeping everything carefully stored in my locker or office. After all, I would be a queen. For my first shift, I had hoped for a more private moment. I wasn’t thrilled about the idea of everyone seeing my bones break and then reassemble; it was supposed to be painful. I joined the party anyway, celebrating with Diana and Arvey, my two best friends. Diana was the daughter of my father’s Beta, Ray. She always seemed to glow as if she had just returned from the beach. With golden-brown skin, powerful brown eyes, and a cascade of black curls, Diana was the wisest among us. She always reasoned with me when I was eager or anxious. I would probably be lost without her. Arvey was the gentlest of us. She was like a princess among wolves: petite, with blonde hair and deep blue eyes, and she dreamt of true love. As the eldest of us three, she had already found her mate, Philip, and they had become inseparable. This almost upset me, but she kept saying I couldn’t understand it yet. I sometimes struggled with this. How could my life feel so insignificant once I found a mate? I didn’t quite get it. I had a pack to rule. The party list also included the Alpha and Former Alpha of the nearest pack. This year, in an attempt to forge new alliances, my father extended an invitation to the Winter Scottish Pack, who had been our enemies for centuries. I could still sense the subtle tension in our political relationship. Alpha Angus and Luna Fiona were incredibly charming. What was it that made them so captivating? Maybe it was the whisky? They had three sons—triplets, of course: Robert, Maximus, and Julius, all eager to claim their father's throne. As they entered the room, my stomach flipped; I felt nauseated. Their blonde hair and deep green eyes made me sick. I rushed to the bathroom, followed by Diana and Arvey who knocked on the door from the outside. I stared at myself in the mirror and vomited. A wave of anger surged through me; I was livid, my skin was pale, and I felt weak. My wolf was giving me a headache. I composed myself and returned to the party. The grand hall of the pack house was teeming with people. Even wizards and vampires from nearby colonies had come to pay their respects to the future queen. The air was filled with the intoxicating aroma of champagne and delicate pastries. Leaders from various packs mingled, their cheerful chatter creating a relaxed and serene atmosphere. The room was adorned with transparent glass ornaments, each one catching the light and casting shimmering patterns across the walls and floor, making the entire space seem almost magical. My mother had outdone herself with the decorations. The hall sparkled under the enchantment of these glass trinkets, their delicate surfaces reflecting and refracting the soft light in a dance of iridescent hues. It was as if the room itself had been transformed into a realm of fairy-tale splendor, where every corner held a glimmering secret and the air was thick with the promise of something extraordinary about to unfold. Despite the enchanting surroundings, I couldn’t shake off the feeling of unease. My stomach churned with a persistent ache, and my wolf stirred restlessly within me, causing waves of pain that left me barely able to stand. Each throb seemed to echo through my body, making the once-welcoming hall feel like an oppressive cage. The contrast between the festive atmosphere and my own discomfort was jarring, amplifying my sense of isolation amidst the crowd. Midnight was approaching, and my wolf continued to torment me with restlessness. I kept engaging with the guests, after all, I had been raised for this. I listened intently to the tales of neighboring packs, heroic Alphas who had guided entire packs toward prosperity and peace. Yet, despite my efforts to stay engaged, the searing pain in my body was impossible to ignore. I never imagined becoming of age would be so difficult. The fear of my first shift grew ever more overwhelming. I had always prided myself on my strength, hadn’t I?