Blood and Moon

Chapter 1: The Outcast

In the shadowed heart of Eldwood, where moonlight carved silver paths through ancient oaks, the werewolf kingdom thrived in secrecy. Tucked away in a sleepy town, its residents—human and supernatural alike—went about their lives, blissfully unaware of the fragile balance that kept their world from crumbling. The Great War, a brutal clash between werewolves and vampires, had ended a generation ago, but its scars lingered like ghosts in the wind. The werewolves had claimed victory, driving the vampires into the shadows after the assassination of their king. Yet, peace was a lie, and the birth of Lilith Blackthorn was proof of it.

Lilith hurried through the crowded halls of Eldwood High, her head bowed, her crimson eyes hidden beneath a curtain of dark hair. At sixteen, she was a paradox—a girl caught between two warring bloodlines. Her pale skin, almost luminescent under the fluorescent lights, and the faint red glow of her pupils marked her as something other. Something wrong. To the werewolves of her pack, she was an abomination, the product of a forbidden union. To the humans, she was a freak, a target for whispers and cruel laughter.

The bell rang, signaling the end of third period, and Lilith clutched her books tighter, weaving through the sea of students. Her cousins, Lucas and Mia, were her only anchors in this storm. Lucas, broad-shouldered and fiercely protective, was the future beta of the Crescent Pack, a role that demanded loyalty to his best friend, Jackson, the alpha prince. Mia, sharp-tongued and quick-witted, was a year younger but carried herself with the confidence Lilith envied. Then there was their father, her uncle Marcus, the royal beta, who had raised her as his own after her mother’s death. They were her shield, her family, but even their love couldn’t erase the weight of her existence.

“Hey, half-breed!” a voice sneered, yanking Lilith from her thoughts. She froze as Tyler, a senior from the pack, leaned against a locker, his smirk sharp as a blade. His friends snickered, their eyes glinting with the predatory gleam of wolves. “What’s it like, knowing your own kind wants you dead?”

Lilith’s heart thudded, but she kept her gaze on the floor, her lips pressed into a thin line. Don’t engage. Don’t give them power. She’d learned that lesson the hard way. Last year, she’d snapped back at a bully and ended up with a black eye and a week’s suspension. The pack didn’t care about justice—not for her.

“Leave her alone, Tyler,” a familiar voice growled. Lucas appeared at her side, his presence a wall of strength. His hazel eyes burned with warning, and the air around him crackled with the authority of a future beta. At seventeen, he was already a force, his broad frame and steady gaze enough to make most back down.

Tyler’s smirk faltered, but he shrugged, tossing a mocking glance at Lilith. “Just having fun, Lucas. Didn’t realize you were her personal guard dog.”

“Walk away,” Lucas said, his voice low and dangerous. “Now.”

Tyler hesitated, then scoffed and sauntered off with his packmates, their laughter echoing down the hall. Lilith exhaled, her shoulders sagging. “You didn’t have to do that,” she murmured, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I can handle it.”

Lucas frowned, his expression softening. “You shouldn’t have to. They’re idiots, Lilith. Don’t let them get to you.”

But they did. Every taunt, every shove, every whispered “vampire spawn” chipped away at her. She forced a small smile for Lucas’s sake. “I know. Thanks.”

He studied her for a moment, then slung an arm around her shoulders, guiding her toward the cafeteria. “Come on. Mia’s saving us a spot. And don’t worry about Jackson or the pack. I’ve got your back.”

Lilith nodded, but unease gnawed at her. Lucas’s loyalty to her was unwavering, but his friendship with Jackson, the future alpha, was a delicate balance. Jackson tolerated her—barely—but the rest of the pack saw her as a stain on their legacy. Her mother, Olivia, had been the royal beta’s daughter, promised to the alpha prince before the war. Her kidnapping by the vampire king had sparked the conflict that nearly destroyed them all. Olivia’s death in childbirth, giving life to Lilith, was a wound the pack refused to let heal. To them, Lilith was a living reminder of their shame, a half-vampire child who should never have been born.

In the cafeteria, Mia waved them over to a corner table, her dark curls bouncing as she grinned. “Took you long enough! I was about to eat your fries, Lilith.” Her teasing was a balm, a fleeting escape from the hostility that followed Lilith like a shadow.

As they sat, Lilith’s gaze drifted to the far side of the room, where Jackson held court with the pack’s inner circle. His golden hair and easy confidence drew every eye, human and wolf alike. He was everything an alpha should be—strong, charismatic, untouchable. But when his gaze flicked toward her, cold and unreadable, Lilith’s stomach twisted. She quickly looked away, focusing on her tray.

“Stop staring at Prince Charming,” Mia teased, nudging her. “He’s not worth it.”

“I wasn’t,” Lilith muttered, her cheeks warming. She didn’t care about Jackson—not like that. But his disapproval stung, a silent reminder of her place in the pack. Or lack thereof.

Lucas leaned forward, his voice low. “He’s just under pressure, Lilith. His dad’s been hammering him about alpha duties. It’s not about you.”

But it was. Everything was about her. The pack’s hatred, the whispers of vampire clans stirring in the shadows, the fragile peace that trembled with every breath she took. Lilith pushed her food around her plate, her appetite gone. She was a spark in a world of dry tinder, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was coming—something that would ignite it all.

That night, as Lilith lay in her room at Marcus’s house, moonlight spilled through her window, painting her pale skin in silver. She traced the faint scars on her wrist, remnants of a childhood incident she barely remembered—a vampire attack, Marcus had said, though he never spoke of it again. Her red eyes glowed faintly in the dark, a curse she couldn’t hide. Somewhere out there, the vampire clans were watching, waiting. They wanted her, not as a daughter, but as a weapon. And the werewolves? They’d rather see her dead than let that happen.

A soft knock broke her thoughts. Marcus poked his head in, his weathered face softening at the sight of her. “You okay, kiddo?”

She nodded, forcing a smile. “Just thinking.”

He stepped inside, sitting on the edge of her bed. “You’re stronger than you know, Lilith. Your mother was, too. She’d be proud of you.”

The mention of Olivia sent a pang through her chest. Lilith had no memories of her mother, only stories of a woman fierce and kind, broken by war and love. “Do you think she’d want this life for me?” Lilith asked, her voice barely a whisper.

Marcus’s eyes darkened, heavy with unspoken grief. “She wanted you to live. That’s enough for now.”

But as he left her to the silence of the night, Lilith wasn’t so sure. The weight of her blood—vampire and werewolf, cursed and blessed—pressed down on her. She was a bridge between two worlds that wanted nothing more than to tear each other apart. And deep in her bones, she felt the stirrings of a power she didn’t understand, a power that scared her as much as it called to her.

Outside, the moon hung low, blood-red and heavy, as if it knew the storm that was coming.