Bloodmoon Oath

Chapter Five

Clinging to Normalcy

Raven Carter was not a werewolf. She couldn’t be. It wasn’t real. It didn’t matter what Elias said or what strange things had been happening to her. She was still Raven—a sharp-tongued, music-loving misfit who didn’t believe in monsters.

At least, that’s what she told herself as she wandered through Silver Ridge’s quiet streets the next morning, the sun warming her skin in defiance of the cold that seemed to have settled in her bones. She clutched a coffee cup in one hand, its heat grounding her, as she passed familiar landmarks—the general store, the diner, the library—each one a tether to the world she knew.

The world she refused to let go of.

At home, her mother was in her study, muttering to herself over a stack of old books. Raven could hear the scratch of her pen even through the closed door. Normally, that would have annoyed her. Today, it was comforting—proof that at least someone’s life was still normal.

Raven set her coffee on the kitchen counter and glanced out the window. The backyard was a patchwork of overgrown grass and fallen leaves, the old swing set from her childhood rusting in the corner. Everything looked ordinary. So why did she feel like the ground was shifting beneath her feet?

She pressed her fingers against her temples, trying to push away the memories of last night. Elias’s amber eyes. The wolf in the shadows. The words that had shattered her reality. You’re part of this world now.

“No,” she whispered to herself, shaking her head. “I’m not.”

Her phone buzzed on the counter, and she snatched it up gratefully, desperate for a distraction. A message from her best friend, Clara, lit up the screen.

Coffee later? 3 p.m. at Juno’s?

Raven stared at the text for a moment, her fingers hovering over the keyboard. She could almost hear Clara’s voice, cheerful and steady, pulling her back to the version of herself she recognized. The version that didn’t have heightened senses or nightmares about wolves.

Yeah, see you there.

By the time Raven arrived at Juno’s, the cozy little café was already buzzing with the late afternoon crowd. The scent of roasted coffee beans and pastries enveloped her like a warm hug, momentarily soothing the tension coiled in her chest.

Clara waved from a corner table, her bright smile cutting through the noise. She was dressed in her usual boho-chic style—flowy scarf, oversized sweater, and bracelets jingling on her wrists. Raven slid into the seat across from her, grateful for the distraction.

“You look like hell,” Clara said, her tone laced with concern. “Rough night?”

“You could say that,” Raven replied, forcing a smirk. “Didn’t sleep much.”

Clara frowned. “Nightmares again?”

Raven shrugged, not trusting herself to answer. How could she explain what had been haunting her dreams? The forest, the glowing eyes, the sense of something primal clawing at her from the inside? She couldn’t. Not to Clara. Not to anyone.

Instead, she changed the subject. “What about you? How’s life in Clara-land?”

Clara launched into a story about her latest art project, her voice animated and full of life. Raven nodded along, letting the familiar rhythm of her friend’s chatter drown out her own thoughts. She clung to every word, as if Clara’s normalcy could somehow anchor her.

But then it happened again.

The scent of coffee in the air suddenly sharpened, so strong it was almost overwhelming. The hum of conversation around her became deafening, every voice distinct and impossible to ignore. And then, the worst of it—her skin prickled, and she felt it.

Someone was watching her.

Her head snapped up, her eyes darting around the room. Most people were absorbed in their conversations or phones, but one man near the window caught her attention. He was staring directly at her, his gaze unflinching. His build was broad, his features sharp, and something about him set her instincts on edge.

“Raven?” Clara’s voice pulled her back. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Raven lied, forcing her attention back to her friend. “Sorry, just spaced out for a second.”

Clara studied her for a moment, her brows knitting together. “You’ve been weird lately. Is something going on?”

Raven hesitated. For a split second, she considered telling Clara everything—the attack, Elias, the impossible truth she was still grappling with. But how could she? Clara would never believe her. She didn’t even believe herself.

“It’s nothing,” Raven said finally, offering a weak smile. “Just a lot on my mind.”

Clara didn’t look convinced, but she let it go, returning to her story. Raven tried to focus, but the man by the window was still watching her. When she glanced his way again, he was gone, leaving only an empty chair and a half-finished cup of coffee.

The walk home was quiet, but the unease followed Raven like a shadow. She told herself she was imagining things, that the man at the café was just a stranger. But deep down, she knew better. Elias’s warning echoed in her mind: They’re watching you. They want you.

Back in her room, she shut the door and leaned against it, closing her eyes. The air felt heavier, charged with an energy she didn’t understand. Her body ached with the tension of trying to hold herself together, trying to pretend everything was fine.

She grabbed her guitar from the corner of the room, the familiar weight of it grounding her. Strumming a few chords, she let the music fill the space, her voice rising in a quiet hum. It was the only thing that still felt like hers, the only piece of herself she recognized.

But even as she played, the changes were impossible to ignore. Her fingers moved faster, her ears picking up every subtle vibration of the strings. The music was clearer, more vivid, but it wasn’t comforting. It was alien, like everything else about her.

Frustration boiled over, and she slammed the guitar down, the sound echoing through the room. “No,” she whispered fiercely. “I’m not one of them. I’m still me.”

Her reflection in the mirror caught her eye. For a moment, she swore her pupils dilated unnaturally, the dark edges bleeding into amber. She blinked, and it was gone.

Raven sank onto her bed, her head in her hands. She didn’t want this. She didn’t want to be different, to be part of some world she didn’t understand. All she wanted was her life back—simple, predictable, and human.

But deep down, she knew there was no going back.