The Alpha’s Bald Luna

~ KELANI ~ “Fix your face, Kelani,” my mother instructed in a whisper, “The pack members are watching.” A small sigh escaped my lips. Every year since I was old enough to say Wolf, my pack’s harvest ceremony reminded me of just how miserable my life was - like I could ever forget. As much as I would have loved to lock myself up in my room tonight, I couldn’t. I am the Alpha’s daughter. His only child. The heir of Left Stone pack. So I had no choice but to sit beside my parents in our reserved seats as the Alpha family, trying but failing to look as excited as the other members of the pack. We were celebrating the success of yet another harvest season. Our land was so rich and fertile, it had earned the tagline, “If it dies on Left Stone, it cannot be grown.” The pack square was bustling with excitement - drummers beat their drums like it was a thief caught in the market, caterers stirred large cauldrons of assorted food, members of the pack danced like it was their last night on earth. If my mother thought any of them were paying attention to my sour face, she was mistaken. They were too busy celebrating while I let thoughts of my pathetic life consume me. I was supposed to be a golden child. My arrival was an answered prayer after years of painful waiting by my parents. With every year that my mother’s belly stayed flat, the malicious gossip, unsolicited advices and tempting offers on both sides increased. But my parents stuck together. Their bond was unbreakable. Finally, the Moon Goddess showed her heart of mercy and my mother conceived me. My parents were overjoyed when I was born but their joy was short-lived. I didn’t talk when pups my age talked or walk when pups my age walked. I was constantly falling ill and the pack healer became a regular in our home. As I grew, it became more and more obvious that I was a sickly wolf. The most notable sign was that my wounds took ages to heal, unlike the quick healing trait werewolves were known for. And I would easily pass out from any strenuous exercise. So I was gradually exempted from any activities that might cause injuries or stress - which were pretty much all werewolf activities. I sat on the sidelines and watched while other wolves trained and played. I even had to be homeschooled as the pack school proved impossible for me to manage. I was the definition of weak yet I was supposed to be the heir to one of the most powerful packs in the north. My parents were kind and supportive to my plight but even they were just werewolves not gods; the side remarks got to them sometimes. I remember how I cried when I overheard my parents talking about me after I still didn’t get my wolf on my 18th birthday last year, their hushed tones giving away the distress in their hearts. Most werewolves had their first shift anywhere from age 14 to 18 so it was kind of settled that I would never get my wolf. “It is better to have no child than to have one as unfortunate as this. She is a burden and a source of ridicule to us.” my father had lamented. And tonight, the ridicule was clear as day. While other wolves my age proudly displayed their harvest at the ceremony, I was sitting beside my parents like a life sized doll. “Kelani, you heard your mother. Wipe that frown off your face.” My father's growl snapped me out of my gloomy thoughts into an even gloomier reality. “Actually, I think I’d just leave.” I retorted and jolted up from my chair. I could feel my parent’s eyes boring holes into my back as I stormed out of the pack square but I didn’t care. One more second sitting there and watching other wolves be everything I wasn’t would kill me. The full moon lit my path as I walked the long distance to the village lake and sat by it. “Panda!” The unmistakable voice of my best friend called, “You left the ceremony.” I turned to look at him. Normally, calling me the annoying nickname ‘Panda’ would earn him a playful (or not) jab to his side but not tonight. “Go away, Nikolas. I want to be alone.” “But you’re-“ “Just! Go!! Away!!!” I yelled in frustration. Nikolas’s shoulders fell as he turned away and I immediately felt bad about taking out my foul mood on him but I didn’t call him back. There would always be time to apologize to him, and to my parents. An hour later, I was still there, wallowing in self pity and throwing pebbles into the lake while I watched the ripples distorting my reflection in the water. I loved seeing my reflection as my beauty was nearly the only good thing I had going for me. The pack members could call me whatever they liked but they could never call me ugly. My cat eyes, which were nearly identical with my mother’s, were the lightest shade of blue. My silky straight hair reached my waist, their silver colour a wonder to the entire pack. My pearly skin shone from the care of the best ointments and eating the finest foods the forest had to offer. Unfortunately, these perfect features were fixed on a faulty frame and they weren’t enough to be a deserving Luna. Lost in my thoughts, it took a while for me to realize that the shouts I was hearing were no longer shouts of joy but of panic, and the music had stopped. I immediately jumped on my feet, my heart rate doubling in seconds. I heard movement coming in my direction, fast and precise. Too late to run, I held my breath and stood as still as a statue. When the approaching figure came into view, I heaved a sigh of relief. It was our pack healer, Bostin, an old wolf skilled in potions and medicine. My relief didn’t last for long because the words that breathlessly left his mouth drove a jagged dagger through my heart. “Kelani! Our pack is under attack! Your father and mother have been killed!” ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ By the time Bostin finished recounting the horrific events to me, hot tears were streaming down my face and breathing was a painful chore. Our pack had been ambushed by the Shanas of Shanakoi. They weren’t werewolves or vampires. But they weren’t ordinary humans either. I never fully understood what they were but the rumours said they were masters of magic from faraway lands who could control the four elements; fire, water, earth and air. Shanas had tried before to invade Left Stone and failed horribly. Infact, their king lost a hand in the fight. But this time, they had wiped our entire pack. Of course, our wolves put up a brave fight but the Shanas used wolfsbane to weaken them and only a lucky few who were still able to shift into their wolf form managed to retaliate or escape. I had questions. Who told the Shanas the secret to making wolfsbane that worked on our pack? How did they know we would be celebrating tonight and have our guards down? Why didn’t we get a warning from our neighboring pack? As if reading my mind, Bostin voiced out. “One last thing. The Shanas had help from Right Stone.” I felt the air knocked out of my lungs and my stomach churned violently. Right Stone was supposed to be our trusted ally - our ancestors had peacefully coexisted for centuries. My father took the Alpha of Right Stone as a brother and I tried not to wonder if the heartbreak of the betrayal killed him before his wounds. “They were smart enough to not send their Gammas but they supplied the information and weapons. I can swear it. Even the sword King Aries used to behead your parents bore the Right Stone sigil.” Bostin concluded, his eyes avoiding mine. A loud cry tore through my lips at his last statement. The Alpha and Luna of Left Stone pack dying in such a gruesome and dishonorable manner. Bostin placed a strong hand over my mouth. “This is not the time to cry as we are still in danger. You especially.” My eyes widened. “It is a tradition for Shanas to take captives after a successful attack. Especially the ones in high positions like yours. I know they must be searching for you.” It took a few minutes for my wails to become quiet sobs. “What do I do now? I don’t want to be taken away from Left Stone.” I sniffled. “You will not, if you do as I say,” he assured solemnly, “I know I said your sickness can only be managed but not cured. But I believe the Moon Goddess has seen the betrayal meted to us by our trusted ally. Tonight is coincidentally a full moon. You could summon her. Now that your parents are dead, you are the Luna of Left Stone pack. Appear in that capacity and cry to her for revenge.” Summon the Moon Goddess? Is Bostin asking me to do what I think he is asking me to do? I caught a tear in the old wolf’s eyes but it was wiped as quickly as it appeared. He reached into his leather sling bag and produced a potion. “Drink it and say the Saturni El-Ron chant while looking up to the moon.” he instructed. Yes, he is really asking me to do it. In these climes, every werewolf got the opportunity to summon the Moon Goddess just once in their lifetime when they recited this sacred chant. When you appeared in her presence, you could make any request and it was very likely to be granted. Wolves used this chant to pray for their biggest heart desire - just one request. But the Goddess would only appear if you had gotten your wolf and I hadn’t gotten mine. Again, as if my thoughts were being transcribed on my forehead, Bostin muttered, "This potion is called peakwort. It would heighten your wolf scent so the Moon Goddess can sense you." Too befuddled to articulate any more questions, I collected the small bottle from him and emptied its content into my mouth. The sharp bitter taste made me nauseous but I pinched my nose to hold it in until the feeling subsided. “The Goddess is going to appear with a lot of wind. You know you are prone to cold. Wear this.” Bostin was right. All my memories of winter consisted of being swaddled in heavy garments and sitting close to a fire, eating a medicinal soup because ‘prevention is better than treatment’. He handed me a dark grey tunic from his bag. “It’s a bit dirty and… masculine. But I suppose you don’t mind for now.” “No, I don’t. You are far too kind.” I thanked him as I received the tunic and struggled into it, hiding the scrunch of my nose at its mouldy smell. I was already wearing two layers of clothes - as I always did whenever I was spending time outdoors - and the tunic made it three. Feeling a lot warmer, I took a deep breath and allowed myself to feel all the raw emotions surging through my body. Shock. Fear. Betrayal. Confusion. Anger. Anger. ANGER! With that, I began. Saturni El-Ron, a sacred chant in our native language - werewolf Latin. My voice raged, the highest decibel I had ever heard it. I chanted until I lost track of time, fully consumed by the words tumbling out of my mouth. A mighty wind enveloped me, bringing goosebumps to my skin. Dead leaves began to twirl and trees swayed left and right. The lake in front of us started to rage vigorously. I shut my eyes tightly to prevent the sand that pricked my skin from getting into them as I continued my chant. Then like a dream, my feet began to lift off the ground until I was floating. If the circumstances were any different, I would have been intrigued but I was too angry to feel anything else. Suddenly, my environment became peaceful and quiet. An unfamiliar voice called my name. “Kelani Hulker.” I slowly forced my eyes open and the image before me sent me to my knees. I was in the presence of the Moon Goddess, the supreme Goddess of all werewolves.