His Moonlight Angel

"MINE"

I wanted to ask who it was, but my throat locked up in fear.

Then I heard Khan’s low, sharp whisper.

“What the hell are you doing? It’s not time yet. We’ll get caught if we act now!”

A second voice—rough, careless—answered, “Who cares? No one likes her anyway. She’s useless.”

My chest tightened. I clamped a hand over my mouth, desperate not to make a sound. My body trembled as their voices faded down the hall, their footsteps growing faint until silence filled the air again.

Only then did I let out a shaky breath.

I sat in my room, my palms pressed against the cold wall, my heart pounding so hard it hurt. Night had fallen, wrapping the packhouse in shadows. I knew I couldn’t stay—not after what I heard. They’d be back, and next time, they wouldn’t stop at whispers.

I grabbed my bag and pulled on an oversized hoodie, tugging the hood low over my face until I could barely see. The fabric swallowed me, making me feel invisible. That was the point.

I slipped into the hallway, keeping my steps light and quick. My bag was hidden beneath the hoodie, the weight of it pressing against my ribs. Every creak of the wooden floor made me flinch. Khan and his friends could be anywhere.

If they caught me… no one would care. No one ever did.

If they hurt me, the others would just look away—like they always had. To them, I was the weak one. The unwanted one. The loser no one wanted to claim.

I slipped behind a tree, pressing my back against the rough bark, and peeked around the trunk.

“What's taking him so damn long?” an impatient voice muttered, followed by the faint glow of a cigarette ember. A cloud of smoke drifted into the cold night air.

“Who knows?” another voice replied, low and familiar. My stomach dropped—it was Khan.

My pulse quickened. He was here. And he wasn’t alone.

I crouched lower as the sound of footsteps grew louder, followed by laughter and shouts. They were getting closer, their voices rough and careless—but every word they spoke sliced through the quiet like a blade.

“Where is she?” Khan snapped, his tone edged with irritation.

“We checked everywhere—she’s not in the house,” one of his friends said.

A long pause. I could almost feel Khan’s frustration in the silence that followed.

“She must be around here somewhere,” he said finally, his voice dropping into that cold, commanding tone everyone in the pack obeyed without question. “We’ll split up. Find her. Then meet at the cabin.”

“Got it,” the others replied in unison, their footsteps scattering in different directions—crunching over fallen leaves, fading one by one into the darkness.

As soon as they disappeared into the darkness, I ran.

I didn’t think, didn’t breathe—I just ran. My heart slammed against my ribs, the cold night air cutting through my lungs. My life depended on it. And deep down, I knew—if they caught me, I wouldn’t just be broken. I’d be hollow. Dead inside, even if I kept breathing.

Branches whipped against my arms and face as I tore through the woods, the oversized hoodie catching on low-hanging twigs. I stumbled, caught myself, and kept going. The forest came alive around me—wolves howling in the distance, owls hooting somewhere above, and eerie, unrecognizable sounds that made my skin crawl.

I had always feared the woods. But tonight, I feared them less than I feared the people hunting me.

That fear was all the motivation I needed not to look back.

The further I ran, the more the world blurred into shadows and breathless panic. My legs burned, my throat ached, but I didn’t stop. I couldn’t.

By the time I finally slowed down, I had no idea how long I’d been running. Hours, maybe. The border was long behind me—I had crossed it without even realizing.

I was outside the pack’s territory now. Alone. Exhausted.

I had never been beyond the pack’s borders before. The moment I crossed them, the air felt different—colder, heavier, and filled with things unseen. Every shadow seemed to breathe. Every rustle in the darkness felt like a pair of eyes watching me.

I’d heard the stories all my life—about what lived out here. Rogues. Wolves without a pack, without rules, without mercy. Monsters, they said.

And I knew better than anyone how true that was.

They had killed my mother. Years ago, a rogue attack tore her away from me before I even understood what loss meant. The memory still burned behind my eyes whenever I thought about her—the screams, the blood, the helplessness.

Now, I was walking straight into their territory.

I moved as quietly as I could, forcing myself to breathe through my nose, careful not to step on dry leaves. The night seemed endless, thick with danger and whispers. One wrong sound could mean the end of me.

Rogues weren’t just wild—they were vicious. They killed for sport, for hunger, for the thrill of hearing someone beg. They bowed to no Alpha, obeyed no laws, and answered to no one but their own madness. That was why they had been cast out—wolves who refused to kneel, who wanted power more than unity.

And now… I was one of them.

The realization hit me like ice.

I was a rogue.

To the pack, that made me a threat. It didn’t matter that I was harmless, that I’d never hurt anyone. The moment they saw me, they’d attack. Kill first. Ask questions never.

I walked for what felt like hours. My legs were trembling, my throat dry, but I didn’t dare stop.

Eventually, the darkness began to fade—the first light of dawn bleeding through the treetops. Morning. I had made it through the night.

Or so I thought.

“There’s one over here!” a voice shouted in the distance.

My heart lurched. I froze, scanning my surroundings. I was standing in the middle of an open field—no trees thick enough to hide behind, no rocks, no shadows deep enough to disappear into.

Panic clawed at my chest.

“Don’t make any sudden movements.”

The voice came from straight ahead, low and commanding. A growl followed—deep, rumbling, and far too close.

I turned slowly.

A massive brown wolf emerged from the thinning mist, its fur gleaming under the pale morning light. Its eyes locked on mine—piercing, intelligent, and full of dominance.

I couldn’t move. Every instinct screamed at me to run, but my body refused to obey.

The wolf prowled closer, each step deliberate, powerful. I gripped the straps of my bag, my fingers trembling.

It began to circle me, slow and predatory, its gaze never leaving my face. The air felt charged, heavy with tension. My pulse thudded so hard I could hear it echo in my ears.

Then it stopped in front of me, baring its teeth in a low, menacing snarl.

I looked into its ocean-blue eyes and felt my breath hitch. For a moment, it was as if the world had stopped turning. Everything—sound, wind, even fear—faded until there was only him and me.

It felt like I was under a spell. His gaze held mine, unblinking, and something strange echoed in the back of my mind—soft whispers, familiar yet impossible to understand. My thoughts tangled, trying to grasp what my heart already knew but my mind couldn’t name.

Warmth spread through me, curling around my chest, melting the chill of the morning air. My stomach fluttered. The wolf tilted its head, and despite everything—the danger, the fear—a smile tugged at my lips. The small, curious gesture was so unexpectedly adorable it almost made me forget what he was.

Then, in a blur of motion, everything changed.

The wolf lunged. I gasped, stumbling backward as his massive body knocked me to the ground. The air rushed from my lungs as I hit the earth, the scent of pine and earth filling my senses.

And then—light. Blinding, shifting, impossible light.

In the blink of an eye, the creature above me was no longer a wolf.

He was a man.

A very naked man.

My eyes widened, my pulse racing wildly as heat rushed to my face. I turned my head quickly, staring anywhere but at him. I was too embarrassed to look anywhere else. My fingers clenched around the grass, trying to remember how to breathe.

I swallowed hard, my voice trapped somewhere between shock and disbelief.

He was… beautiful.

His eyes still held that ocean-blue depth, so vivid it almost hurt to look at them. If I stared too long, I knew I’d drown—willingly.

His black hair was tousled and wild, a few soft strands falling over his forehead. The morning light caught on them, making him look unreal—like a dream I was afraid to wake from.

Long lashes framed his eyes, brushing against his skin as he looked down at me, a faint frown tugging at his lips. Those lips… full, defined, almost too perfect to be real. His cheekbones were sharp, his jawline sculpted with quiet strength. Everything about him screamed danger and beauty all at once.

Perfection. That was the only word my stunned mind could form.

My fingers twitched, aching to touch him—to see if he was real or another cruel trick of fate. Before I could stop myself, I lifted my hand and slid it into his hair.

It was softer than I imagined.

He closed his eyes at the contact, a low sound—half groan, half sigh—escaping his lips. The sound sent a shiver straight down my spine. When he opened his eyes again, they were no longer just blue.

A golden rim glowed around his irises, burning like sunlight over water.

And then, with a voice that rolled through my chest like thunder, he spoke one word.

A single word. Four letters.

“MINE.”