The Blood Moon Ceremony
1198 Words
The moon hung impossibly high and full in the night sky, a glowing sentinel that seemed to pulse with anticipation. Every student at Mooncrest Academy had been summoned to the ceremonial grounds beyond the dormitories—a large open-air circle flanked by stone pillars, ancient torches, and banners bearing the crest of every pack.
Layla stood just inside the edge of the circle, feeling incredibly out of place. Her deep crimson cloak was the only thing she liked—it draped dramatically over her shoulders and was clasped at the throat with a silver crescent moon. But the rest of the experience so far had been nerve-wracking.
“You okay?” Isla whispered, brushing Layla’s arm lightly.
Layla nodded, even though she wasn’t. Everyone around her had a role to play, a family name to represent, and a bloodline to honor. She was just… here. A guest? An intruder?
“You don’t have to do anything tonight,” Isla reassured her. “Just observe. The ritual is mostly symbolic for new students.”
“Symbolic?” Layla asked. “What kind of symbolism are we talking about? Fire? Blood? Latin chants?”
Isla giggled. “No blood… usually. Just an ancient vow, a dance of submission and power. You’ll see.”
Layla wasn’t comforted.
A hush swept over the gathering as the Head Alpha, a silver-haired man with regal posture and piercing gray eyes, stepped onto the stone platform in the center. Kade stood beside him—unmoving, unreadable, dressed in dark ceremonial robes that seemed stitched from the night itself.
“As it has been for generations,” the Head Alpha intoned, “we gather under the Blood Moon to honor the bond between bloodlines, packs, and the promise of protection. Tonight, new bonds may be sensed… or formed. The Flame of Origin watches us. The old ways stir again.”
Layla shifted her weight, the words unsettling her. Her skin buzzed beneath her cloak.
The ritual began with the Offering of Strength—a line of dominant wolves stepped forward to kneel before the central flame and swear loyalty to their pack, their future mates, and the ancient traditions. Layla noticed how Ronan was first to speak, proudly lifting his chin and saying something about honor and dominance. The crowd cheered.
Then came the Flamewalk, where each student stepped toward the sacred fire at the center. Not to touch it—just to be near it, to see if the flame reacted to them.
Layla’s heart raced.
“Your turn,” Isla whispered, nudging her forward.
Kade stood by the flame, arms crossed. When Layla stepped closer, the crowd stirred. Whispers rose like fog around her:
“She’s not even a wolf…”
“Why is she allowed in the circle?”
“Just a human girl—”
But then the fire shifted.
The flame bent toward her—only her—as if drawn by invisible strings. It grew taller, brighter, pulsing with a sudden golden-red light. The hush turned into startled gasps.
Kade’s brows twitched.
Layla froze. Her skin heated, heart pounding. She felt something twist in her chest, as though a memory not her own had awakened.
“What is this?” Ronan’s voice broke through the silence. “That’s not normal.”
“Stand down,” Kade said quietly, stepping forward.
“Is this some trick?” Ronan challenged. “The Flame only reacts to bloodlines. She's not one of us.”
Kade moved in front of Layla protectively. “The Flame reacts to power. And she clearly has it.”
Layla could barely breathe. Her legs wobbled, and then—
She collapsed.
Her vision darkened, and the last thing she saw was Kade catching her before she hit the stone floor.
She awoke in a dimly lit chamber that smelled of pine and ancient magic. Soft furs cushioned her back, and a cold cloth rested on her forehead.
“What… happened?” she whispered.
“You passed out,” a low voice answered. “But not before putting on a hell of a show.”
She turned her head and saw Kade sitting beside her. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes held a depth she hadn’t seen before.
“You caught me,” she said softly.
“You looked like you were going to fall face-first into the fire. I figured you’d appreciate not being toasted.”
“Thanks for that.”
There was silence for a moment. Then she asked, “What did the fire… mean?”
Kade stood and walked to the window, where the moonlight pooled like silver mist.
“No one knows for sure,” he said. “But that flame hasn’t reacted to anyone like that in decades. Not even me.”
Layla sat up slowly. “So… I’m what? Special?”
“You’re something,” he said, his tone guarded.
“Why do I feel like that’s not entirely a compliment?”
“Because it isn’t. You just painted a target on your back.”
She flinched. “Oh.”
“There are people who’ll want to use you. Others who’ll want to eliminate you.”
“And you?” she asked. “Which are you?”
He looked at her for a long, quiet moment.
“I don’t know yet.”
Layla’s heart thudded.
The next day, she was summoned to the High Council’s private chamber.
The Head Alpha stood at the center with other elders in black robes. Kade stood off to the side, silent as ever.
“We’ve reviewed the events of last night,” the Head Alpha said. “The Flame responded to you, Layla Rivers. That cannot be ignored.”
“I don’t know what it means,” she said honestly.
“Neither do we. But it is… unprecedented.”
Ronan stepped forward. “She’s not one of us. It’s dangerous to let her stay. She’s already disrupting balance.”
“She’s under my protection,” Kade cut in.
Everyone turned to him.
“What?” Ronan sneered. “Why?”
“Because she’s not a threat. Not yet,” Kade replied calmly. “And if someone tries to harm her, they’ll deal with me.”
Layla stared at him, stunned.
The council exchanged glances. After a long pause, the Head Alpha nodded.
“So be it. She stays. Under supervision.”
Outside the chamber, Layla caught up to Kade.
“You didn’t have to do that,” she said.
“Yes, I did.”
“But why?”
He paused, eyes locked on hers. “Because you’re not ready for what’s coming. And until you are, I’ll make sure you survive.”
“Do you always protect people you don’t like?”
“I don’t dislike you.”
Her breath caught.
“You scare me,” he added softly. “Because you’re not supposed to exist.”
Layla stepped back, suddenly cold. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
“Layla—”
But she was already walking away, not sure if she wanted answers anymore. Just time.
Time to figure out who she really was—and why the flame had chosen her.
- Writer
