Whispers Of The Moonstone

The cafeteria buzzed with life—human life. Laughter echoed off the walls, sneakers squeaked against the linoleum floor, and the scent of french fries filled the air. But at the far end, tucked into a corner, three wolves sat quietly at their table. Abigail poked at her mashed potatoes with her fork, not because she wasn’t hungry, but because her mind was elsewhere. As usual, her eyes were glued to Rohan Knight—the future alpha of the Crystal Moon Pack, the boy who unknowingly held her heart. He stood a few tables away, laughing with his friends, his black curls falling into his eyes as he leaned over to whisper something to Tracy, his girlfriend. Tall, muscular, and confident, he looked every inch the Alpha he was destined to become. Abigail had memorized the curve of his jaw, the intensity in his eyes, the way he moved like he owned every room he walked into. She sighed, deeply. “Girl, can you stop ogling him before you burn a hole through his head?” Emma teased, nudging Abigail with her elbow. Abigail rolled her eyes and smiled softly, picking up a fry and popping it into her mouth. Tommy chuckled. “Seriously, Abi. You look like you’re about to faint. It’s giving Twilight-but-make-it-tragic.” Abigail shook her head, amused. “What? I’m just saying,” Tommy said, flipping his curls dramatically. “One day Rohan will look this way and realize the mute omega is the love of his life.” She raised an eyebrow at him, playfully skeptical. “Okay, okay,” he grinned. “Maybe not today… or this year… or ever, but a guy can dream for his friend, right?” Inside her mind, a familiar voice stirred. “Dream all you want, Abi. But let’s be real—our chances with Mr. Alpha Hotness are somewhere between zero and absolutely not.” It was Iris—her wolf. Sarcastic, dramatic, and annoyingly honest. “Shut up,” Abigail thought with a smirk. “No, you shut up. Look at him. Tall, dark, handsome, and he smells like vanilla and sin. Ugh, Moon Goddess, I wanna lick his face.” Abigail stifled a giggle and quickly stuffed a spoonful of food into her mouth to mask it. Iris continued, “Honestly, if he were our mate, I’d scream. Then pass out. Then scream again.” “He’s not,” Abigail thought sadly. “He’s with Tracy.” “Tracy,” Iris scoffed. “More like Trashy. She’s only got one personality trait: being pretty. And being Rohan’s Luna is our fantasy, thank you very much.” Abigail glanced back at Rohan. Tracy was perched beside him, all confidence and grace, flipping her sleek brown hair over her shoulder as she laughed at whatever Rohan had just said. Abigail couldn’t hear it, but the sound of Tracy’s laughter still made her chest tighten. She would never be like Tracy. Not just because she couldn’t speak. But because she was an omega. In the world of wolves, rank meant everything. Crystal Moon Pack was different from most—they didn’t beat or starve their omegas like the horror stories she’d heard from other territories. But that didn’t mean they were seen as equals. Omegas were mostly ignored unless errands needed running or chores needed doing. They were the silent gears that kept the massive packhouse running. Though each omega had their own room and food was never lacking, respect was something earned only by strength. And Abigail hadn’t shifted yet. She wouldn’t until her eighteenth birthday—still four months away. Unlike betas or alphas who shifted by sixteen, omegas only got one shot at it. No second chances. No earlier shifts. Just one day. And even then, no one expected much from an omega’s first shift. Abigail rested her chin on her palm, still watching Rohan. He threw his head back laughing. Something about him—the way he smiled, the confidence in his posture, the sound of his voice—made her heart flutter in ways she couldn’t explain. “You’re pathetic,” Iris whispered, though she sounded more amused than judgmental. “But like… same.” Abigail rolled her eyes and chewed on her lip, a nervous habit she had since childhood. “Alright, so listen,” Emma said, interrupting the moment. “When we graduate, I swear I’m asking Caleb out. I don’t care if he’s a beta or if he barely knows I exist.” Tommy gasped. “You’re into Caleb?! I thought you were into Zeke!” Emma blushed. “Zeke’s cute, but he has a girlfriend, am not about to waste my time. Caleb at least opens the door for people.” Abigail smiled at their banter but her eyes stayed on Rohan. Her friends knew the truth—how she’d crushed on him since they were thirteen, how she had once doodled “A + R” in her sketchbook and cried for a whole week when Tracy kissed him at the summer bonfire. “Honestly, I think the Moon Goddess is cruel,” Iris huffed. “She made us an omega and mute? She really said, ‘Let’s humble this girl.’” Abigail chuckled mentally. “You’re dramatic.” “I’m fabulous. There’s a difference.” She glanced at the clock. Five minutes until the bell. She started cleaning up her tray, used to the rhythm of this in-between life—part wolf, part human, yet never fully belonging to either world. Rohan stood suddenly, his eyes scanning the cafeteria. His gaze passed over her for a heartbeat. One single moment. Her breath hitched. Her heart raced. Then it was gone. He turned away—just like always. “Oh, he definitely didn’t see us,” Iris grumbled. “Maybe I should possess you next time and trip Tracy in front of everyone. Make an entrance. Let him see what he’s missing.” “You’re not possessing me,” Abigail laughed inwardly. “Boo. You never let me have fun.” The bell rang, and students began clearing out of the cafeteria. Abigail walked quietly with Emma and Tommy, keeping her head down, staying invisible. But deep inside, something stirred—restless, electric. A whisper of power. A heartbeat that didn’t belong to fear. Maybe, just maybe, her eighteenth birthday would bring more than just a shift. Maybe it would bring everything.