“The full moon is in one week’s time, Damien and you know what that means,” Adrian said to me as I was about to enter my car.
I paused, turned slightly to look at him. His eyes held that knowing seriousness, and I gave a single nod before sliding into the car. My driver slowly drove off.
Of course, I knew what it meant. The full moon was never just a phase of the moon for us, it was power, tradition, blood, and hierarchy all fused into one night. It was the core of our existence as werewolves. During the full moon, our strengths were magnified, our instincts sharpened, and our true nature unleashed without restraint.
Every full moon, all werewolves gathered for a grand ceremony,a celebration of what we are, a reminder of strength, unity, and dominance. It wasn’t just a gathering; it was
