Marked by the red moon alpha

Chapter 19: A Cry For Help

"There was a survivor," Ethan just concluded.

Tyler looked at Ethan as if he had just eavesdropped on a private conversation. The heavy, suffocating silence in the room was instantly shattered as the familiar, violent pull of my gift dragged me under.

Then came the vision.

I saw it—it was a young girl about 12 years old deep in the dark, sprawling woods, she was running for her life, I could hear her frantic, broken cry echo through the trees, and she was utterly, paralyzingly terrified. It was as if her voice was cutting straight through the physical distance, calling directly to me, begging for someone to hear her before the shadows caught up.

"We have to go back," I said to them, my voice trembling with an urgency I couldn't conceal.

Tyler threw his hands up in immediate frustration, shaking his head. "We can’t, it’s a police scene," Tyler then replied, his voice laced with disbelief that I would even suggest walking back into the nightmare.

"We have to go there somehow," I insisted, refusing to back down.

Ethan stepped forward, his expression resolute, and said he can help find a way. But Tyler instantly refused, his jaw tightening as he snapped that Ethan has caused enough damage already.

I argued with Tyler, my eyes flashing as I defended the injured stranger, saying none of this was Ethan's fault.

Tyler shot back, his voice rising in anger as he argued that the killers are looking for him, and that none of this horrific bloodshed would have ever happened if we hadn’t taken him in off the dirt road.

"We don’t know that for sure," I said to Tyler, refusing to let him reduce a living person to a simple scapegoat.

They both looked at me with a heavy, exasperated weight, staring at me as if I was completely out of my mind and deep in denial.

I glanced away from them and caught Ethan's expression—I saw his face distorted in deep, raw sorrow as the crushing weight of guilt pressed down on him for everything that had unfolded.

Bella stepped in closer, refusing to let me stand alone against Tyler's wall of logic.

"Werewolf or not, we saw him in distress and we helped him," Bella said firmly, trying to take my back like she always did when things got out of hand. "Don’t worry, Jess, I am with you. We'll help," she added, giving my hand a steady, reassuring squeeze.

Tyler let out a long, defeated breath, running a hand over his face as he glanced between Bella, me, and Ethan. His jaw remained tight, and the hesitation in his expression made it clear that he still didn't trust Ethan. After a long moment, he reluctantly nodded.

"Okay," he muttered. "He's in."

I looked over at Ethan, meeting his intense, piercing gaze.

A strange, quiet determination settled over my nerves; looking at him, I knew deep down that I had already devised a solid plan, and no matter how dangerous it was going to be, it was going to work. The realization hung heavy in the air around us, wrapping every heartbeat in a coat of icy dread and fierce anticipation.

We were stepping right back into the lion's den, walking blindly into a trap set by creatures far more terrifying than any regular human mind could ever comprehend or prepare for.

Tyler muttered something under his breath, shaking his head at our collective recklessness, but he didn't try to pull away again.

He knew as well as I did that once my mind was made up, nothing short of a literal disaster could change the course of my decisions.

Bella stood right beside me, her posture unwavering, solidifying the unspoken bond that had kept the two of us tethered through every storm since childhood.

Ethan remained silent for a long moment, watching us with a mix of deep gratitude and lingering guilt shadowing his striking features. He knew the danger we were placing ourselves in just by association, yet he didn't push us away or try to talk us out of it.

"We need to move before the perimeter shifts or my father changes patrols," Tyler warned, glancing toward the window facing out into the dark, quiet street, his protective instincts overriding his hesitation.

"Then we don't have a second to waste," I replied, taking a deep, grounding breath as I pulled my jacket tighter around my shoulders, feeling the chill of the oncoming night seeping through the walls.

The night stretched out before us like an endless, yawning chasm, dark and unpredictable.

Whatever was waiting for us out there in those woods—whether it was the faceless monsters of the pack, the cold steel of the authorities, or the terrifying truth of a world hidden just beneath the surface of our normal teenage lives—we were heading straight toward it.

And as I took my first step forward, the phantom echo of the little girl's desperate cry resonated once more inside my head, solidifying my resolve.

We were going to find her, no matter what it took, because turning our backs now meant sealing her fate in the dark.

Every fiber of my being screamed that time was running out fast, and the shadows were closing in.