Dark Moon Rising

Freya's POV Love, Just a Tale. Love is a myth, a twisted fairy tale that doesn’t exist in my world of wolves. In my world, love is just an empty howl in the night, a fleeting echo that holds no truth. It is the most overused and overrated word, often used as a weapon of extortion. "I love you," they will say, trying to infuse the virus into you. It’s a word tossed around carelessly, like a leaf caught in the wind, with no real meaning. Love is like a lullaby, sung to kids as the night flutters by. It’s a fairy tale, told by clowns armed with colorful imaginary pictures—no wonder it is best expressed in cartoons. Funny enough, I used to believe in love. I once believed that despite all the betrayals and lies I had faced, love would one day find me. But oh, how naive I was. I don’t want it to find me anymore. I really don't care about it anymore. I have my pack to run, and my family, and that’s all I need. You see, love is a game for the weak, and as the first female Alpha leader of this great pack, I have no interest in playing the moronic love game. "What color of dress will you wear for the Moonlight Ball?" Fenrir, my oldest friend, and Beta asks as we sit around the fire. Fenrir and Seraphina have been my packmates since we were pups. They’ve stood by me through the blood and the battles, never wavering, even when I was at my lowest. We’re gathered in the heart of our territory, the night sky above us glittering with stars, as we prepare for the upcoming Moonlight Ball. It’s the one night of the year when all the packs come together, putting aside their rivalries to play the game of unity. But I dread it every year because I know he will be there—the one Alpha wolf I can never see eye to eye with—Lucian Draven. Our encounters always end in bloodshed, despite the truce that the Ball demands. "I already told you, Fen. We’ll all be in attire," I inform him with a steady voice. I glance at Seraphina, who’s already smiling at me, shaking her head slightly. Every year, Seraphina and I wear matching black dresses for the Ball, a tradition that Fenrir honors by matching his bowtie to our dress color. It’s a small act of solidarity, a silent promise that we’ll face whatever comes together. "You know Lucian will be there, right?" Fen says, his voice carrying a note of caution. "When isn’t he?" I narrow my eyes at him. "Why do you ask?" "Well, I’d rather you not attempt to take his throat out again, like last time," he mumbles, rolling his eyes as I glare at him. He gives me that knowing look that always drives me insane. "He challenged me, Fen. That’s enough reason for a fight." "He didn’t challenge you, though. You just imagined it!" Seraphina protests. "We all know he did. I mean, who could resist a challenge to my leadership?" I flash them a smile, but they only roll their eyes. "Look, I get that you hate him," Fen says, his tone more serious now, "but it’s bad for your reputation if you start a fight at the Ball. It’s supposed to be a night of peace." Lucian and I have been rivals since the moment I became an Alpha leader. And that’s the problem. We both share the title of most powerful Alpha, a status that only one of us can truly hold. And that one will be me. Tonight, I have business to attend to—a hunt I’m not particularly thrilled about. But there’s a part of me that’s eager for the chase, the thrill of taking down my prey. This is not just any prey; this is prey who had, before now, been the predator, who had preyed on my pack, taking down many wolves from my pack. I change into my hunting leathers—blood-red, like the setting sun—and pull on my boots. A knife slips into the sheath at my thigh, and a silver dagger is strapped to my waist. My long, blonde hair is tied back in a high ponytail, loose strands framing my face. As I descend the stairs, Seraphina is waiting, clad in the same red leather, her dark hair tumbling in loose waves. "Ready to hunt?" I ask. She nods, and we head to the garage, our breath visible in the cold night air. "Our target has a meeting tonight, near one of Lucian’s clubs," Seraphina informs me as we climb into the truck, her voice low. "He does not only terrorize our pack, he does the same to both us and Lucian's pack," she adds. I nod, my mind racing with possibilities. Should we avoid Lucian or storm in, fangs bared, and tear through anyone in our way? The latter sounds far more appealing. We arrive at the club and park across the street, the shadows of the forest embracing us. I pull out my dagger, checking the blade before sliding it back into place. We slip into an alley, our eyes on the door that will lead us to our prey. Just as I’m about to suggest a plan, the door bursts open, and our target stumbles out, bloodied and reeking of fear. "What a pleasant surprise," I murmur, a smirk curling my lips. "Astrid," the man gasps, his voice trembling. "Kael," I reply, my tone dripping with sarcasm. His eyes dart between the door and me, knowing his fate is sealed. He knows he won’t survive the night. The only question is whether it will be by my claws or Lucian’s. I draw my claws, baring my teeth at him. "Any last words?" I ask, and he shakes his head desperately. His fear is palpable—common for anyone facing an Alpha like me. I was already transforming into my wolf form and ready to pounce on him when a voice echoed from the far end of the alley. My mood sours instantly at the sound of his voice, and I quickly shift back to my human form. "I have some last words for him," it was Lucian, calling out with that annoyingly cool voice of his, stepping into view. Seraphina’s dagger immediately swings toward him, waiting for my signal. I also brought out my dagger and pointed it at him, though it was slightly lower than Seraphina’s. My gaze locked on Lucian. Kael tries to flee, but he’s a fool. I trip him effortlessly, my attention still on Lucian. "You’ve got something I want," he says, his eyes dark with intent. "Oh, you mean him?" I ask, raising my dagger once more and this time, plunging it into Kael’s chest without breaking eye contact with Lucian. "Oops. My hand must have slipped." Lucian’s jaw clenches as he stares at the lifeless body, and I smirk at him. "It’s always a pleasure, Lucian. See you at the Moonlight Ball," I taunt, giving him a wink. Seraphina and I turn and leave, making our way back to the safety of our territory. As I step into my den, I’m greeted by my two wolves, their fur dark as the night. By wolves, I don't mean werewolves—I mean real wolf pets. They are my beautiful pets, Morgana and Ragnar, my faithful companions. Morgana was named after my grandmother, a strong and wise Luna in her own right. Ragnar… well, he’s just Ragnar—fierce and loyal. Seraphina and I head upstairs, parting ways as I enter my room. I take a quick shower, washing away the scent of blood and death. When I crawl into bed, Morgana and Ragnar are already curled up, keeping watch over their Alpha. I close my eyes, knowing that soon, the real battle will begin.