Blood and Moon

Chapter 2: Awakening Shadows

The morning of Lilith’s sixteenth birthday dawned crisp and unremarkable, the autumn sun filtering through the curtains of her room in the beta’s estate. Eldwood stirred with the usual rhythm—humans rushing to work, werewolves patrolling the borders in human form—but for Lilith, the day carried an undercurrent of dread. Birthdays had never been celebrations for her; they were reminders of loss, of the mother she never knew and the hybrid curse she carried. Her uncle Marcus had tried to make them special, with quiet family dinners and gifts wrapped in silver paper, but the pack’s disdain always loomed like a storm cloud.

This year felt different, though. A restlessness had built inside her for weeks, a humming energy that made her skin itch and her red eyes burn brighter in the mirror. She chalked it up to the changing seasons, or perhaps the whispers of vampire clans growing louder in the kingdom’s edges. Marcus had increased patrols, his face etched with worry lines that deepened when he looked at her. Lucas and Mia tiptoed around her, sensing the shift but saying nothing.

“Happy birthday, Lil,” Mia said, bursting into her room with a tray of pancakes drizzled in maple syrup. At fifteen, Mia was a bundle of energy, her auburn hair tied in a messy ponytail. “I made these myself. No poison, I promise.”

Lilith smiled faintly, sitting up in bed. “Thanks, Mia. You didn’t have to.”

“Of course I did. You’re sixteen! That’s huge.” Mia set the tray down and plopped beside her. “Lucas is out training with Jackson, but he said he’d be back for dinner. Dad has something special planned.”

Lilith nodded, picking at the food. Huge. For werewolves, sixteen was just another year—true awakening came at eighteen, when they received their wolves, the inner beasts that defined their strength and bonds. But Lilith wasn’t a true werewolf. Her vampire blood twisted everything, granting her unnatural speed and senses from a young age, but no wolf had ever stirred within her. Part of her hoped it never would; it would only make her more of a freak.

The day dragged on. School was a blur of averted eyes and muttered insults, the bruise from yesterday fading unnaturally fast thanks to her hybrid healing. By evening, she returned home to find the house decorated with twinkling lights and the scent of roasted venison filling the air. Marcus greeted her at the door, his broad frame enveloping her in a hug. “My girl,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “You look just like her today.”

Olivia. The ghost that haunted them all.

Dinner was intimate, just the family. Lucas arrived late, sweat-slicked from training, his eyes lighting up as he handed her a small, wrapped box. “Open it later,” he said with a wink. Jackson wasn’t there—why would he be? The future alpha had his own duties, and Lilith was nothing but a complication in his world.

As the clock struck midnight, Lilith excused herself to her room, the weight of the day pressing on her. She unwrapped Lucas’s gift: a silver locket engraved with a moon and a drop of blood, symbolizing her dual heritage. Touching it, a sharp pain lanced through her chest, doubling her over. She gasped, collapsing to the floor as heat surged through her veins. It felt like fire and ice colliding, her body convulsing in waves.

What’s happening? she thought, panic rising.

Then, a voice echoed in her mind—soft, ancient, and warm. Breathe, child. I am here.

The pain crested, and suddenly, the world expanded. Colors sharpened, scents intensified, and a presence unfurled within her like a blooming flower. It was a wolf, powerful and ethereal, her fur a shimmering white laced with silver threads that glowed like moonlight.

Who are you? Lilith whispered mentally, her body still trembling.

I am Lirien, the wolf replied, her voice carrying the weight of centuries. Priestess of the Moon Goddess, guardian of the ancient packs. And I was your mother’s wolf before her passing.

Lilith’s eyes widened, tears blurring her vision. Olivia’s wolf? Werewolves bonded with their wolves for life, but upon death, the wolf spirit returned to the goddess’s realm. For Lirien to return—to her—it was unprecedented. How? Why me?

You are special, Lilith, Lirien said, her presence wrapping around Lilith like a protective embrace. A bridge between worlds. The goddess chose me for Olivia, and now for you. I feel her in you—her strength, her love. I will protect you as I protected her.

The bond was immediate, maternal. Lirien’s protectiveness flooded Lilith’s senses, a fierce love that eased the ache of isolation. But with it came a warning. You must keep my identity secret, Lirien urged. The pack fears hybrids. If they know I am the priestess, returned through you, it could ignite old fears from the Great War. The vampires seek power like mine. For your safety, reveal nothing—not even to your family.

Lilith nodded weakly, pulling herself to her feet. She stared at her reflection: her red pupils now flecked with gold, a subtle sign of the wolf within. At sixteen? Werewolves awakened at eighteen. This was wrong—unnatural, like everything about her. But the power hummed, her vampire abilities blending seamlessly with the new wolf strength. She felt invincible, yet terrified.

Sleep evaded her that night. By morning, the change was undeniable. Her senses were razor-sharp; she could hear Mia’s heartbeat downstairs, smell Lucas’s training sweat from miles away. Lirien guided her, teaching her to control the surges, to mask the gold in her eyes.

But the real challenge came at school. Jackson was there, leaning against his locker, his dark hair tousled, his presence commanding as always. He’d turned eighteen two months ago, receiving his wolf in a grand ceremony that the pack still buzzed about. As future alpha, he was everything Lilith wasn’t: accepted, powerful, destined.

Their eyes met across the hall, and time froze. A pull yanked at her core, a magnetic force that screamed mate. Lirien stirred excitedly within her. He is ours, the wolf whispered, joy lacing her voice.

Lilith’s heart soared, then plummeted. Jackson’s expression remained cold, his blue eyes narrowing with something akin to disgust. No surprise flickered there—no recognition, no warmth. He knew. He must have known since his awakening. Werewolf mates were fated, revealed upon receiving one’s wolf. For two months, he’d ignored it, rejected the bond without a word.

Pain sliced through her, sharper than any bully’s shove. Why? she thought, turning away to hide the tears. Lirien growled softly in her mind. He is foolish, child. But we must be careful. Revealing the bond now could endanger you further.

The day blurred into agony. Jackson avoided her, his laughter with the pack echoing like mockery. During lunch, she sat alone, Lirien’s presence her only comfort. I protected your mother from a similar fate, the wolf said. Olivia’s mate was the alpha prince, but the war stole that from her. You are stronger. We will endure.

By evening, Lilith confided in no one, the secret burning like acid. Marcus noticed her distraction at dinner, but she brushed it off as birthday jitters. Lucas eyed her suspiciously, sensing the change but attributing it to her vampire side flaring.

As night fell, Lilith slipped into the forest, letting Lirien take partial control. Her body shifted slightly—not a full transformation, but enough to run with wolfish grace. The moon called to her, and for the first time, she answered, howling softly into the wind. But the mate bond tugged relentlessly, a reminder of Jackson’s rejection.

He doesn’t want me, she told Lirien, collapsing by a stream.

Then he is not worthy, Lirien replied, her motherly tone fierce. But fate has plans. The war’s shadows stir, and you, my child, are the key. We will face it together.

Lilith returned home under the stars, the weight of her powers and secrets heavier than ever. Her sixteenth birthday had awakened more than a wolf—it had ignited a path of heartbreak and destiny, where blood and moon intertwined in ways she could scarcely comprehend.