The last blood of Algama

I never believed in magic. Never. That’s why I laughed every time my grandmother told her old stories about wolves that could walk like humans and packs that guarded ancient secrets. They were just fairy tales—old women’s nonsense meant to scare children. And yet… that was before the night my life changed forever. It began in the middle of the night. I woke up to a sharp, burning pain on my side, as if someone had pressed a hot iron against my skin. My heart jumped so hard I thought it would burst. I fumbled around in the darkness, trying to see what had happened. And that’s when I saw it: a mark. Strange, almost glowing in the pale moonlight that spilled through my bedroom window. It wasn’t like anything I had ever seen. Twisting lines, almost like delicate veins, curling over my ribs. My fingers trembled as I touched it, and the moment I did, a shiver ran down my spine that had nothing to do with cold. “What… what is this?” I whispered, holding my side. The room seemed to grow colder all at once, as if the shadows themselves were watching me. I tried to scream, but the sound of it seemed to have been muffled by the silence. For an instant, I wondered if I was imagining it. Maybe a rash, an allergic reaction, something ordinary. But the burning beneath my skin was real. And something else, something worse... I felt a strange energy pulsing through me, like a heartbeat that wasn’t mine. My breathing grew shallow, my senses heightened, and I heard things I shouldn’t. The quiet whisper of leaves outside. A cat scuttling across the roof. Even the sound of my own blood pounding through my veins was deafening. I stumbled to the mirror. My reflection stared back at me, white and scared, but something was different. My eyes… they looked more defined. Not just my eyes, but me. The shape of my body seemed tense, alert. My muscles vibrated with an odd power that I had never experienced before. I shook my head, trying to convince myself it was a dream. It had to be a dream. But in my heart, I knew it wasn’t. I didn’t sleep the rest of the night. I sat huddled in my bed, my heart pounding, listening to every little sound. The moonlight kept pouring over the mark, as if it was taunting me, tempting me to do something I didn’t understand. And as the first light of dawn crept into my window, I knew I couldn’t just pretend this was normal. I wanted to tell someone. I thought of Ethan first. But the moment I pictured his concerned face, the fear flooded back. What if this... whatever this was... affected him? My hands were shaking. I had to be careful. I couldn’t let him see this side of me—not yet. I couldn’t even let myself see it. I tried to go about my day as usual. I got dressed, put on my usual hoodie and jeans, and pasted on a smile for Ethan when he came over. He always notices everything, but I tried to seem normal. “Hey,” he said with a soft smile. “You okay? You look tired.” “I’m fine,” I whispered, hiding the mark under my hoodie. “Just didn’t sleep well.” He frowned but didn’t press the issue. He never liked pushing me to talk. That’s one of the things I loved about him. But every time I looked at him, my heart hurt from thinking that I might have to pull away from him forever. I didn’t know how to explain this... what was happening to me. But by evening, the mark was burning once more, and this time it was worse. My senses were going haywire—I could hear the wind cutting through the trees outside, smell every meal my neighbors cooked, even feel the heartbeat of the dog down the street. It was terrifying, and a part of me wanted to run, to hide, to never be seen again. But another part... a darker, more urgent part... felt alive. Powerful. Unstoppable. And then the books began to appear. The first one I noticed was sitting on my desk when I came home from work. I hadn’t left it there. It was old, bound in leather, and reeked of dust and rain. The title was odd, written in a way that I somehow recognized: “The History of the Moon-Born Packs.” I gazed at it for a long time, my hands hovering over the cover. I didn’t want to believe it, but something in me drew me to it. I opened the book, and as soon as I did, it was as if my mind was being flooded with visions—wolves running through the forest under a full moon, ancient cities hidden away in the depths of the forest, glowing orbs that pulsed with energy. I gasped and fell back in my chair. How could I possibly comprehend this? I didn’t even know what half of it was saying, but it felt... familiar, as if it was mine. That night, the voice returned. It was soft, almost a whisper, but it wrapped around my mind, impossible to ignore. “Selene,” it said. “You were chosen to seek out what is lost. The city is waiting for you. The pack is waiting for you.” I froze. My heart was racing so fast I thought I was going to pass out. Who… what… was talking to me? I rubbed my eyes and shook my head. “This isn’t real,” I whispered. “It can’t be real.” But a part of me—deep down—knew it was. Knew it had been waiting for me my whole life. The next day, I told Lyra. She looked at me with wide eyes, concern etched all over her face. “Selene… what’s going on with you?” she asked softly. I hesitated, my hands gripping the edge of the table. And then, I told her everything—the mark, the burning nights, the books, even the voice. Lyra reached across the table, taking my hand. “We’ll get through this,” she said. “You’re not alone. I’ll help you.” Her words should have been comforting to me. They almost were. Almost. But there was something in her eyes, a glint that I couldn’t decipher, a flicker that didn’t feel like concern. I pushed it away, telling myself it was just my imagination. I needed her. I trusted her. And yet… I felt a shiver of apprehension, a whisper in the back of my mind that danger was closer than I thought. That night, the moon was full and high. I felt its power more than ever before. My body shook with the burning of the mark, the power coursing through me crying to be unleashed. I paced in my room, my senses stretched to the breaking point. Every sound, every shadow, every beat of every heart around me was magnified. I went to the window and looked out over the city. The streets were dark and still, but I could feel something moving, something watching. My blood pounded through my veins. I knew with a cold certainty that my life had already altered. I was no longer just Selene. I was something else. Something powerful. Something dangerous. And I wasn’t ready. Not yet. But the city… the pack… the voice… they were calling me. I swallowed hard, my fingers brushing the mark. Whatever this was, it had chosen me. And I couldn’t turn away. The first step had been taken. And I knew, deep in my bones, that nothing would ever be the same again.