Under The Blood Moon

Chapter 3: The Blood Moon Approaches

The training grounds pulsed with an energy I couldn’t name. Torches ringed the open field, their flames bending in the wind. Above us, the moon loomed fat and pale, nearly full, its light crawling over my skin like fire.

I paced the perimeter, restless, my body tight with heat and tension. Every breath burned, every step felt too sharp, as if something inside me clawed to break free. Warriors sparred in pairs, their growls echoing. Claws slashed, fists cracked against shields, bodies slammed into dirt. They moved like predators—everything I wasn’t.

“Too close,” one muttered as I passed. “She’s trembling.”

He wasn’t wrong. My hands shook faintly, enough to tuck them into my sleeves. The pull in my stomach deepened with every glance at the sky. It wasn’t hunger or fear. It was something raw, dangerous.

A shadow fell across me.

“Pathetic.”

Xander stood a few feet away, his frame outlined in torchlight, storm-gray eyes locked on me. The warriors nearest us stilled, retreating to watch.

“You’re shaking,” he said coldly. “You’ll draw blood before you even lift a blade. My pack sees weakness, and weakness spreads.”

“I can handle myself,” I said.

“You can’t even handle the moon.”

“You don’t know what I can handle.”

The air between us thickened, alive with something unnamed. His eyes lingered a fraction too long, then he stepped closer, voice low enough for only me. “Don’t show them this side of you. If you bleed weakness here, they’ll tear you apart. And I won’t stop them.”

His nearness made the strange pull stronger. I dug my nails into my palms to steady myself. He sensed it too, his gaze sharpening, then pulled back.

“Dismissed,” he ordered. The crowd scattered. I stood frozen, heart hammering, his warning heavy in the night air. Don’t show them weakness. The moon glowed brighter, swelling toward its peak. For the first time, I wondered if my wolf was clawing at the edges, waiting for the Blood Moon to tear me open.

The council hall gleamed with polished stone and banners. Long tables stretched across the floor, laden with maps and goblets of wine. Alphas from neighboring packs sat in clusters, voices low, the air thick with politics and rivalries.

I lingered at the edge, half in shadow. Damon had warned me to stay silent.

Xander stood at the head of the table, tall and unshaken, his presence filling the room without effort. A single glance from him held the room taut with respect.

The doors opened.

She entered as if she owned the place.

Selene Rivers.

Her midnight silk gown clung to her frame, long black hair spilling down her back. Her violet eyes swept the room before landing on Xander. When she smiled, the air shifted—calculated, daring.

“Your Majesty,” she purred. “I couldn’t stay away, not with the moon so close. Surely you missed me.”

Xander’s face stayed unreadable. “You weren’t invited, Selene.”

She laughed softly, ignoring the warning. She crossed to his side, her hand brushing his arm. “Why would I wait for an invitation when I know you need allies? Perhaps more than allies.”

Jealousy flared sharp and hot in my chest. He didn’t shove her hand away.

“We are discussing borders,” he said, “not indulgences.”

Selene smiled wider. “Borders are one thing. But everyone here wonders what you’ll do when the Blood Moon rises. Wolves need more than a king—they need a queen.”

The words hit like a blow. My throat tightened. I needed him to deny her. He didn’t.

The council erupted into chatter, the word queen weaving like wildfire. I dug my nails into my palms, desperate to keep my face neutral. Selene’s gaze flicked my way once, sharp and triumphant.

And still Xander said nothing.

The council hall emptied in waves, Selene’s laughter trailing like perfume. I lingered in the shadows, pressing a hand against my chest. I needed air.

I slipped into the corridor, the chill of the stone walls grounding me. My steps echoed down the hall, but couldn’t drown out Selene’s hand on Xander’s arm, his silence, Damon’s warning.

“You shouldn’t look like that.”

I jumped. Damon leaned against the wall, arms folded, his sharp brown eyes watching.

“Like what?”

“Like someone just ripped your heart out in front of half the council.”

Heat flushed my face. “I wasn’t—”

“You were. I told you to keep your guard up. Selene will use every c***k she finds.”

“She’s dangerous.”

“More than you realize. She wants power, and she’s not subtle. Don’t think she won’t come after you.”

“I already don’t belong here. That makes me easy prey.”

“That makes you a target. Different thing.”

His hand brushed my arm, light but steady. Warm. Grounding.

“You sound like you’re trying to protect me.”

“Someone has to. Don’t expect it to be him.”

The words stung because they rang true.

“Why are you telling me this?”

He shrugged. “Because you don’t know the rules yet. And because you’ve got that look—the one that says you’ll fight even when it’s hopeless. I respect that. But respect doesn’t keep you alive here.”

“Be careful, Isla,” he said as he turned away. “The Blood Moon makes everything burn hotter—desire, rage, ambition. People lose themselves in it. Don’t let that be you.”

His footsteps faded, leaving me alone. Selene’s threat, Xander’s coldness, Damon’s protectiveness—they tangled together until I couldn’t tell which weighed heavier.

Above me, the moonlight seeped through a narrow slit in the wall, pale on my skin. The fire inside me surged, restless and wild. Damon was right. The Blood Moon wasn’t finished with me yet.

The chamber was too quiet.

I lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling as moonlight spilled across the stone floor. My body refused to settle, heat simmering beneath my skin, the restless energy stronger than ever. Every time I closed my eyes, the images returned—Selene’s hand on Xander’s arm, his silence, Damon’s warning.

I turned onto my side, then onto my back again. Sleep wasn’t coming. The air itself seemed charged, pulling me toward the window.

Finally, I gave in.

I slipped from the bed and padded barefoot across the cold floor. The curtains billowed as I pushed them aside, and the balcony doors groaned when I eased them open.

Moonlight poured over me. The Blood Moon wasn’t full yet, but close. Its glow painted the courtyard silver, sharpening every shadow. My chest tightened, my heart beating too fast.

And then I saw him.

Across the courtyard, on the opposite balcony, stood Xander. His arms braced on the railing, his head bowed slightly as though the night’s weight pressed on him. Even from here, his presence filled the space—unshakable, magnetic.

As if sensing me, he lifted his head.

Our eyes locked.

The world stilled. The air between us pulsed, alive, a current snapping straight through me. My breath caught, my skin prickling as the pull surged stronger than ever. It was undeniable, terrifying, consuming.

Something flickered in his face—a c***k in the mask, a man wrestling with something he didn’t want to feel.

The bond burned brighter, clawing at me, demanding I move. My hands curled around the railing to keep from crossing the courtyard.

Then he broke the stare. His gaze dropped, his body shifting as if dismissing me, shutting the door on the spark that threatened to ignite.

The moment snapped, but the echo lingered, searing through me like fire under my skin.

I gripped the railing, my breath shuddering. I couldn’t ignore it anymore. Whatever this was, it wouldn’t let me go.

I wasn’t free. Not from him. Not from this.

And as the moon swelled toward fullness, I knew with absolute certainty—when it rose in crimson light, everything would change.