THE MOON-BINDERS

Arielle POV: I stumbled through the underbrush, lungs burning, legs trembling beneath me. Every snapped branch behind me told me they were getting closer. The wolves chasing me. My own pack, turned hunters, thirsty for our blood. "Hunt down every single one of them!" I hear the chief Sentinel roared. Few hours ago, the pack counsel had vetoed for our death. More like a m******e. The Alpha decreed that we're forbidden, and that no wolf alive should wield the power we wield. Hence, we became prey to every wolf that hated us; neighbors, friends, brothers, relatives. The full moon hung above the forest, pale, round, and merciless. Its glow sharpened their bloodlust, drove them into a frenzy as they tore through everything in their path, searching for me. Howls split the night. Then screams. The screams of the Wolfmads, my kind. I heard every sound of flesh tearing, bones snapping, a heart being ripped out of their furs. Killed by our own kind. By our pack. The ones sworn to protect us. A low humming crept into my ears, vibrating beneath the wind. Someone or something is trying to mindlink me... Then a voice deep, furious, absolute said. “I will always find you, Arielle. Always. I will not be defied by you or any wolf. You must bow to me!” The wind hissed as if answering him. My hand flew to my chest, pressing hard as my heart slammed against my ribs, desperate to escape. The whispers returned again, louder now, forcing it way through my thoughts. "Do not wake… Arielle… do not wake…" A shadow darted across the forest floor making my pulse spike. A branch snapped to my left. I spun, instincts taking over, half-human, half-wolf, then bolted in another direction. Branches tore at my clothes, scratched my skin, but I didn’t slow. I couldn’t. If I stop now, I'll die. And I have to stop him if my kind are to survive. My pack’s howls surrounded me now, the hunt howl, predators’ calls. I felt their hunger. Their thirst. Bloodlust coursed through their veins. I stumbled, skidding to a halt beside a fallen log. Moonlight spilled across a shallow puddle at my feet. I looked down and froze. Fear stared back at me in my own reflection; wild-eyed, shaking, hunted. A presence surged behind me. I turned— —and came face to face with a massive black wolf, easily eight feet tall, fur bristling, eyes glowing red with murderous intent. His teeth snapped inches from my face before his weight slammed into me, flooring me hard. Pain exploded through my back. “Time to purge the very last of your kind, Arielle.” His voice invaded my mind, cold and triumphant. He raised his claws. Swiped— I jolted awake with a gasp, body drenched in sweat, heart racing ten times faster than usual. I sucked in air, hands trembling as I pushed myself upright. “What is this?” I whispered hoarsely. Another vision?" ***** **** ***** Dear reader, you may have heard stories of Selene, the benevolent moon goddess of the werewolves. Stories told for centuries. But I am here to tell you, those stories are lies, old lies perpetuated by the moon and its fanatic worshippers. For centuries, we were told the Moon Goddess created us, blessed us, and governed our fates. But the truth is darker, for the Moon Goddess does not exist. Inside the moon, a sentient prison holds something ancient and cruel. Something called the Devourer of Names. Every full moon weakens the seal that holds him captive. And on each full moon, he whispers, manipulates the vulnerable, and grows stronger. We wolves used to think our shifting, mating bonds, and lunar cycles are blessings, until later when few of us saw the truth, that they are nothing more than control mechanisms. The moon does not guide us. It feeds on us. On our bloodlust. On our primal instincts. Every innocent life spilled on a full moon strengthens it, bringing the Devourer closer to freedom. When he escapes, the world; werewolves, banshees, fox spirits, humans, werejaguars, and every supernatural being, will face total annihilation. My name is Arielle Norman, daughter of Ilyra Rhydian of the Dominant Wolf Pack and I am here to share the Truth. I was born during a Black Moon Eclipse, an event erased from pack history. I am of Warden-blood, descended from the first beings who sealed the Devourer inside the moon. My ancestors were the first Lycans. We are the Moon-binders, but the pack called us the Wolfmads because we hear the moon’s whispers and see truths others cannot. To the pack, it is an abomination. Thus, those of us who remember fragments of the ancient truth are executed before we can speak. My Warden-blood does not obey the moon, but the moon responds to me. I am the last of my line. And only with my death would the Devourer get his freedom. And so I hide. Every day, every moment, I fight to seem normal. To survive. To pretend I am just like the others. An ordinary member of the pack. An ordinary Omega.