Chapter 2
1037 Words
Chapter Two: The Blood on the Moon
It started like any other bad day.
The sky was too bright, the halls too loud, and Ember Quinn could already feel the whispering stares brushing against her like gnats. Students parted as she passed, not out of respect — but out of disgust, or maybe fear of being associated with the school’s most persistent embarrassment.
Her locker had been defaced again.
Across the scratched metal door, someone had scrawled:
“Howl-less Freak.”
Below it, a crude drawing of a wolf with Xs for eyes.
Ember inhaled deeply. One heartbeat. Two.
She didn’t cry anymore — not at school. Crying only made it worse.
She wiped the marker off with the sleeve of her jacket and opened her locker as if nothing had happened.
But something had happened.
Something always did.
---
As the day wore on, the feeling in her gut grew colder. People were watching her more than usual. Not just laughing or sneering — but watching. Quietly. Like they were waiting for something.
In fourth period, Celine Rowe sat beside her. That never happened.
Celine’s hair was flawless, her lipstick a perfect blood-rose hue. She was beautiful, rich, and Alpha-born. The kind of girl Ember had once hoped to be friends with… back when she still believed kindness was something that lived in people like Celine.
“Hey, Ember,” Celine purred during biology, voice too sweet.
Ember didn’t answer.
Celine leaned in. “You’re coming to Hollow’s Point tonight, right?”
The question caught her off-guard. “What?”
Celine smiled wider. “Everyone’s going. Big moon. Big party. You wouldn’t want to miss it.”
Ember narrowed her eyes. “Since when am I invited to anything?”
Celine tilted her head, feigning confusion. “Come on. We’re all one pack. Besides… don’t you want to see Killian?”
Ember’s heart stuttered. The name tasted like old wounds.
Killian Graves. Her first crush. The one who used to defend her in middle school. The one who had grown into a golden, jaw-carved monster of popularity. The one who now stood by and watched her get torn down, piece by piece.
Celine winked. “You should wear red. He always liked red on you.”
Then she passed a folded piece of paper into Ember’s lap and turned back to the front.
Ember opened it slowly.
Inside, in Celine’s sharp handwriting:
"Hollow’s Point. 9 PM. Alone."
---
She should’ve known better.
But hope is a persistent poison.
And something in her heart whispered that maybe… maybe tonight would be different.
---
The woods were too quiet.
When Ember arrived at Hollow’s Point, the full blood moon loomed high above, casting a copper hue across the trees. The wind didn’t rustle. The animals didn’t stir. Even the night felt like it was holding its breath.
She saw the fire before she saw them — a circle of flickering orange surrounded by shadows.
Killian stood at the center.
Celine, Sasha, Mark… others too. Students from her school. All with cold smiles and glowing eyes. All wolves.
Pack wolves.
She wasn’t part of their circle.
She never had been.
Ember stopped just at the edge of the clearing.
“What is this?” she asked.
Killian’s smile was slow. “Your coming-of-age ceremony, of course.”
Something in her chest tightened.
“That’s not funny.”
“No,” said Sasha. “But it is necessary.”
The circle widened. Celine stepped forward, holding a ceremonial blade — one Ember recognized from the pack rituals. Silver-lined. Etched with the Quinn crest.
It had belonged to her father.
Her knees nearly buckled.
“Where did you get that?”
“Your uncle gave it to us,” Mark said. “Said it was time we handled our dead weight.”
Dead weight.
The words echoed like a drumbeat in her skull.
Celine grinned. “It’s nothing personal, Ember. But you’re a liability. A wolf who can’t shift? That makes the rest of us look weak.”
“I’m not a threat to anyone,” Ember said, voice trembling.
“Exactly.” Killian’s gaze was sharp. “And that’s the problem.”
---
They didn’t attack all at once.
That would’ve been merciful.
No, they took their time. Surrounded her. Mocked her. Slapped the side of her head. Pulled her hair. Pushed her to the ground. Again. Again.
She fought — gods, she fought — but her strength was human. Her instincts were wild but untamed. Her wolf never came.
She screamed.
No one heard.
Or worse — no one cared.
A foot slammed into her ribs. A fist cracked against her jaw. Her vision blurred.
Blood filled her mouth.
Her knees hit rock.
A hand gripped her hair and yanked her head back.
Celine loomed over her, blade in hand.
Ember’s heart screamed, but her mouth was silent.
This wasn’t just bullying.
This was a sacrifice.
“Any last words?” Celine asked, voice dripping with amusement.
And then… something shifted.
The wind stirred.
The fire flickered, sputtered.
And Ember — broken, bleeding, betrayed — looked up at the moon.
It was glowing. Not gold, not silver.
Red.
Her blood smeared the ground.
And the moment it touched the earth, the trees shivered.
A c***k of lightning split the sky.
Somewhere in the distance, something howled.
But it wasn’t a wolf.
It was older.
Wilder.
Hungrier.
---
Killian flinched.
“What the hell was that?”
The fire blew out in a single gust of wind.
Everything went dark.
Celine turned.
“Get the blade. End it now—”
But Ember was already gone.
Not in body.
But in soul.
Her eyes stared blankly upward.
No breath.
No pulse.
No sound.
Just silence.
---
And then…
In the darkness, from her mouth came a final whisper.
Not Ember’s voice.
Not entirely.
“You shouldn’t have woken her.”
Celine screamed.
---
Two miles away, in the ruins of an old chapel long l
ost to history, something stirred beneath the floorboards. Dust scattered. Candles lit themselves.
And in the shadows of the forgotten crypt, a pale, unfamiliar eye snapped open — glowing like frostfire under the blood moon.
- Writer
