Chasing the Moon's Salvation

Chapter 1

"Do not cower from us, young one. Would you not like to join the wolves in their play?" The words of Larry Young reverberate in my ears as I take cover beneath the staircase of the desolate house, avoiding the cobwebs that ensnare my long blonde hair. Gasping for breath, I collapse onto the floor, hugging my legs tightly, trying to ignore the musty scent of damp and dust that fills the air. Closing my eyes, I silently beseech the moon White to quell their pursuit, but deep down, I know it's futile. Tonight, no divine intervention will save me from the literal wolves that hunt me.

I made a grave error. A colossal mistake. Like my peers at the beta's house, I attended the party within the pack, hoping to celebrate the end of our schooling and, in my case, my eighteenth birthday. In some small way, I foolishly believed I could be ordinary for just one night. To blend in with them.

Not merely one of the foster children kept alive by the pack under the laws enforced by a long-lost White who hasn't been seen in centuries. I should have known better. I should have anticipated that the aspiring betas would indulge in their intoxication and decide that chasing me for another one of their sadistic "fun" beatings was an appropriate way to prove themselves.

Wiping the blood from my split lip, inflicted by one of them when they cornered me in the forest, I examine my crimson-stained fingers illuminated by a beam of moonlight piercing through the dilapidated wall behind me.

I don't understand why I continue to hope for salvation. I am nothing to them, to the pack, or even to the moon White I fervently pray to each night, just like everyone else in this wretched pack.

The moon White has never saved me from anything.

The sound of heavy footsteps grows nearer, transitioning from the crunching of leaves to the echo of shoes against concrete. They have entered the house. A rat scurries past my leg, causing me to suppress a scream as I inadvertently collide with a loose metal panel. It vibrates, clashing against another piece and inadvertently revealing my hiding spot to the wolves hunting me.

Damn it.

My hands tremble as I rise to my feet, cautiously stepping into the center of the room as Larry Young and his two lackeys enter, stumbling by his side. Surveying the surroundings, I notice that the staircase lies in ruins, with a massive gap on the second floor. It appears to have been ravaged by fire, leaving no alternative escape route. I am well and truly trapped now. They form an intimidating line, their muscular frames capable of toppling a car. Their hair, all matching shades of black, most likely due to their shared lineage, contrasts sharply with my pale skin and bright blonde hair, courtesy of the capricious moon White. I stand out like the moon itself amidst the radiance of the sun in this pack.

Larry Young takes a long sip from his drink, his eyes flashing green, a clear indication that his wolf relishes the thrill of the hunt. Young, the newly appointed beta succeeding his father, who willingly retired after two centuries of service, is an insufferable jerk. Handsome, much like the other five betas, but lacking in the intellect department. Wolves, after all, don't require intelligence to become betas; all they need is the right bloodline and a willingness to kill at the alpha's command.

All wolves derive pleasure from hunting and killing, and unfortunately, I am always the prey in this pack.

"You should know better than to flee from us, little Mairin. Little Mary, the lamb who runs from the wolf," he taunts, sing-songing the last part as he takes a slow step forward, his shoe scraping against the dirt beneath him. Height jokes are always his go-to. Standing over six feet tall, my modest five-foot-three stature may not be imposing, but has no one heard the saying, "Small but deadly"?

Even if I'm not even remotely deadly.

"Who invited you to my party?" I retort through gritted teeth.

"The entire class within our pack was invited," I snap back.

He chuckles, the crisp sound reverberating around me like an icy gust. "We both know that you're only in this pack because of the law protecting female children. Otherwise, our alpha would have torn you apart long ago."

Indeed, I am well aware of the law. The law that prohibits the killing of female children due to the scarcity of female wolves within the pack. For every five wolves, there is scarcely one female. This has been the status quo for as long as anyone can remember. Hence, when they discovered me in the forest at the tender age of twelve, barely clinging to life and devoid of memories, they had no choice but to take me in and save me.

A life, they constantly remind me, granted solely due to that law. However, the law does not prevent the alpha from treating me like dirt or subjecting me to beatings just for his amusement. Only me, though. My fellow foster sibling, a male, is spared from the "special" attention I receive. Thankfully.

"We both know that you cannot kill me or harm me enough to attract attention without the alpha present. So why don't you just walk away and find some other unsuspecting girl to occupy your time at the party?" I blurt out, exasperated by it all. Tired of never speaking my mind to these imbeciles and living in constant fear of the alpha. A bitter laugh escapes Young's lips, his eyes now fully aglow with a green luminescence. His companions' eyes mirror the same eerie glow, and I realize I have crossed a line with my impertinent mouth.

My foster caretaker always warned me that my tongue would be my downfall.

Seems he was right once again.

A menacing growl rumbles from Larry Young's chest, causing every hair on my body to stand on end as I instinctively take a step back just as he shifts. I've witnessed this transformation countless times, yet it never fails to amaze and terrify me simultaneously. Shifter energy, a dark emerald magic, envelops his body as he undergoes the metamorphosis. The only sounds in the room are the cracking of his bones and my panicked breaths as I desperately search for an escape route, even though I know it's futile.

I have just provoked a wolf. A beta wolf, one of the most formidable within our pack.

Well done, Irin. Way to ensure your survival.

The shifter energy dissipates, leaving behind a magnificent white wolf in place of Young. It looms above me, its head large enough to consume me in a single bite. Just as it lunges forward, prepared for an attack, and I brace myself for the inevitable pain, a shadowy figure descends from the broken slats above, landing with a thud. Cloaked in white robes over jeans and a shirt, my foster caretaker effectively shields me from Young's view, and relief washes over me.

"I suggest you depart before I demonstrate what an experienced, albeit retired, beta wolf can do to a young pup like yourself. Trust me, it will be excruciating, and our alpha will conveniently turn a blind eye," he warns with an authority that Young could never hope to possess at eighteen years old. The room falls silent, the air thick with tension, until I hear the wolf scamper away, followed by the rapid footsteps of his companions. My formidable foster caretaker slowly turns around, lowering his hood and brushing his long gray hair away from his face. Wrinkles blanket his features, a testament to his age, and I still cannot fathom why he chose to work with the foster children of the pack. His pale blue eyes resemble the tranquil sea I glimpsed once when I was twelve. He always dresses in attire reminiscent of the Jedi from human movies, adorned in flowing cloaks and swords that resemble lightsabers as they shimmer with magic. He claims it is his personal style.

His name, unlike most pack names that are overused, sounds strikingly human. My name, the only remnant of my past, is equally uncommon. According to an ancient book on names, it means "Their Rebellion," a meaning that eludes me completely. Mike, on the other hand, possesses a name that is exceedingly ordinary, even among humans. 

"You are incredibly fortunate that my back was acting up, prompting me to take a stroll, Irin," he admonishes sternly, and I sigh.

"I apologize," I respond, aware that there is little else I can say at this point. "The mating ceremony is tomorrow, and I wanted one night of normalcy. I shouldn't have sneaked out of the foster house."

"No, you should not have, especially when your freedom is within reach," he counters, reaching up to gently pinch my chin with his fingers, turning my face to the side. "Your lip is cut, and your cheek bears significant bruising. Do you derive any pleasure from being beaten by those pups?"

"No, of course not," I reply, pulling my face away, the metallic taste of blood lingering in my mouth. "I merely wished to be normal! Is that too much to ask?"

"Normalcy is a privilege reserved for humans, not shifters. That's why they allotted us the United Kingdom and Ireland, erecting walls to contain us within these territories. They desire normalcy, while all we need is what we have here: our pack," he begins, reiterating what I already know. Three centuries ago, they reached an agreement that designated this portion of Earth as our domain and bestowed the rest upon humans. Intermingling was discouraged, and this arrangement was deemed the best means of maintaining peace. Thus, the lands of the United Kingdom were divided into four packs: England, Wales, Scotland, and Ireland. Due to the shifter wars, only two packs remain: the Ravensword Pack, my home, devoted to worshiping the moon White, and the James Mountain Pack, which presides over Ireland, a pack we are in constant conflict with. Whoever they worship, it certainly isn't our White, and everything I've heard indicates that they are ruthless, devoid of empathy, and cruel.

That is precisely why I have never ventured beyond our pack's boundaries to seek refuge there. Life may be far from ideal here, but at least it offers some semblance of safety and a future of sorts.

"Do you believe things will improve for me once I find my mate tomorrow?" I inquire, although the prospect of being controlled by someone's shifter energy does not appeal to me. Yet, it entails shifting into a wolf, a privilege every female receives upon mating, and that has always been a dream of mine.

Moreover, a small part of me yearns to discover who the moon White herself has chosen for me. The other half of my soul. My true mate. Someone who will see beyond my status as a foster child, someone who will desire me unconditionally.

Mike gazes down at me, his eyes reflecting an enigmatic expression. He then averts his gaze and starts walking away from the abandoned house, and I hasten my steps to catch up with him. Snowflakes land on my blonde locks as we make our way through the forest, heading back to the foster home, the place I will finally depart from tomorrow, one way or another. I clutch my leather jacket tightly around myself, seeking warmth against the biting cold. My torn and weathered jeans grow damp with snow within minutes of walking, as the snowfall intensifies. Mike remains silent as we pass the rocks marking the narrow path until we reach the crest of the hill that overlooks the main pack city of Ravensword.

The city's skyline is adorned with towering structures along the River Thames, creating a spectacle akin to stars mirroring in the night sky. The sight is undeniably beautiful, even amidst the chaos that pervades this place. I recall the first time I beheld the city from this vantage point, just days after being discovered and nursed back to health. I naively believed I had escaped hell only to find myself in heaven. Yet, I soon discovered that heaven was too kind a word to describe this place. The night is eerily quiet here, devoid of the usual clamor of the city's inhabitants. I gaze down at the panorama, wondering why we have halted.

"When you look at the city, what do you see, Irin?" he asks.

I exhale deeply. "A place from which I yearn to escape."

I cannot discern his disappointment, but I can feel it all the same.

"I see my home, a place that harbors darkness in its recesses, but also radiates immense light. I see a place where even a foster wolf bereft of family or ancestry can discover happiness come tomorrow," he replies. "Cease fixating on the stars as your means of escape, Irin, for tomorrow, you will find your home within the city you strive so ardently to perceive as nothing but darkness."

He resumes walking, and I trail behind him, attempting to heed his words. Yet, within seconds, my gaze inevitably drifts back to the stars.

Because Mike is right. I am always searching for an escape, and that will never change. I was not born into this pack, but rather hailed from beyond the walls that have stood for centuries. That is the only explanation for how they found me, a lost soul in the forest clutching naught but a small vial and a note bearing my name. How it came to pass remains an enigma, even to me, but I vow to unravel this mystery. I must.

Chapter 2

I groggily open my eyes, greeted by a blur of lines. Blinking away the haze, I lift the book that had fallen onto my face and rub my nose. Damn, I must have dozed off while reading again. I shift my attention to my foster brother Stephen Turner, who is holding the door open. With his unruly dark brown hair falling around his face and clothes that are a tad too big and worn, he exudes a certain charm. But it's his infectious smile that warms my heart. Despite being just eight years old, he carries himself like someone much older, having lost his family a year ago and finding no relatives willing to take him in. Blood-related or not, I'll always be here for him. We're both foster kids in a pack that despises our existence, and they make damn sure we know it.

They keep Stephen alive because one day he might possess a powerful wolf when he turns sixteen. If he doesn't, well, there won't be anyone to save him from what comes next. I'm a bit luckier in the sense that I'll find a mate at the mating ceremony when I turn eighteen. My mate will have no choice but to protect me, even if he despises who I am. Our fates are intertwined from the moment the bond is revealed.

"What time is it, Scrubs?" I ask, trying to divert my thoughts from the impending ceremony. He twitches his nose at the nickname, a result of him constantly scrubbing dirt and mud off his face. He's the messiest kid I've ever seen, and I love it. I want a different future for him, one where he shares the same last name as everyone else in the pack, rather than being labeled "Turner," which means lost in Latin. We truly are lost in every sense of the word.

"It's six in the morning. We have to leave for the ceremony in an hour. Mike said you need to bathe and wear the dress in the bathroom," he replies, nervously kicking his foot. "Oh, and he mentioned something about brushing your hair so it doesn't resemble a bat's nest."

I snort and run my hand through my unruly blonde waves. Sure, I may not have brushed it much, but these waves have a mind of their own.

"I won't go, find a mate, and never come back. You know that, right?" I ask, sliding out of my warm bed and into the chilly room. Snowflakes adorn my slightly cracked bedroom window, and I quickly shut it before turning back to Stephen. His bright blue eyes meet mine, but he remains silent.

"Whoever becomes your mate will want you to start fresh, without this place and without me following you around. I may be eight, but I'm not oblivious," he finally responds. I walk over to him, the creaking floorboards echoing under my feet, and pull him into a tight hug, resting my head on top of his. The truth is, I can't promise him much. Males hold power over females during mating, and resisting that control is excruciatingly painful, or so I've been told. That's why the moon White is the only one who can choose our mates. If she makes a wrong choice, it could be disastrous for everyone involved.

"If my mate does choose me, I'll find a way to make sure he lets me see you. The moon White wouldn't give me a mate I'd hate. All mates love each other," I reassure him, repeating what I've heard.

"I don't like goodbyes," he murmurs, pulling away from me. "So I won't come with you today. I won't."

"I understand, kid," I say as he walks towards the stairs. He doesn't look back, and I'm proud of him, even though it hurts to watch him make decisions that only adults should have to make. I return to my small bedroom with its single bed, white sheets, squeaky mattress, and one chest of drawers. Grabbing my towels, I head downstairs to the only bathroom in the old, quirky house. The bathroom is located through the first door in the corridor, and I shut the door behind me without bothering to switch on the light. The sunlight streaming through the thin windows provides enough illumination. Dolphin-covered wallpaper adorns every wall, and a porcelain clawfoot bathtub takes center stage. A cream toilet and a row of worn white cabinets line the opposite side, with a sink nestled in the middle. Hanging on the back of the door is the dress I've been dreading to see yet secretly longing for because it's the most beautiful thing I'll ever wear.

The mating dress, custom-made for every woman in the pack, is paid for by the alpha to celebrate this joyous day. Each dress is meant to honor the moon White herself. And mine is no exception. Made of pure silk, it feels softer than I could have imagined as I run my fingers over it. The hem shimmers with sparkling white crystals, and the top clings to my chest and stomach. The bottom half cascades like a ballgown, heavier than the top and comprised of countless layers of shimmering silk.

Staring at the dress, an overwhelming urge to escape engulfs me. The desire to run to the sea, swim to the wall, and find a way out intensifies. Any means of escaping the predetermined choices life has handed me.

But Mike was right. I can't see the light within this pack; the darkness smothers too much. It takes too much.

I step back until the back of my legs meet the cold bathtub, sinking down to the floor. Wrapping my arms around my legs, I rest my head on my knees.

One way or another, this mating ceremony is going to change everything for me.

"Do hurry, Irin. We have a four-hour drive, and today isn't a day you should be late, like every other day of your life!" Mike's voice echoes through the door, followed by two sharp knocks.

"On it!" I shout back, scrambling to my feet and pushing thoughts of escape to the recesses of my mind. It was a foolish idea anyway. The pack lands are heavily guarded, and they would sniff me out from a mile away. After a quick bath to wash away the dirt and grime, I brush my wavy hair until it tumbles down to my waist in bouncy locks, even though I know the wind will whip them into a frenzy as soon as I step outside. Slipping into the dress is effortless, and after pulling on my boots, I wipe away the steam on the mirror to catch a glimpse of myself.

My green eyes, a mixture of moss and silver specks, appear brighter against my pale skin this morning. They stand out, framed by my blonde, almost golden, hair. I look as terrified as I feel about today, but the moon White is our ancestor. The first wolf to howl at the moon and receive the gift of shifting. She won't let me down today.

I nod at my reflection, feeling like a complete fool, before stepping out of the bathroom to find Mike and my other foster brother waiting for me. Mike huffs and walks away, muttering something about a lamb to the slaughter under his breath, while I turn my attention to Knox. His wide brown eyes sweep over me from head to toe, finally realizing that his best friend is actually a girl. He's used to seeing me in jeans or baggy clothes, following him through the muddy forest without caring if my nails are broken by the end of it.

And I never wear dresses like this. Knox runs his hand through his messy brown hair, which desperately needs a trim, before flashing me a smile.

"Damn, Irin, you look different," he remarks with a husky voice. Knox is a year older than me, and during his power testing last year, he was discovered to possess an exceptionally strong wolf. He's next in line to be a beta, which is quite a significant position for a foster kid. Either way, he's free from this place, and who knows, he might even be my mate. A small part of me hopes so because Knox is my best friend, and spending my life with him would be effortless. Romance is uncharted territory for me, as I've never seen Knox in that light. But he's undeniably good-looking in a rugged way, so maybe we could figure it out.

"Nervous about today?" I inquire, aware that this is his second mating ceremony and there's a chance he might find his mate. It's usually the second or third ceremony where males find their mates, while for females, it's always the first.

He clears his throat, meeting my gaze. "Yeah, who wouldn't be?"

"Me. I'm totally cool with it," I sarcastically reply. He chuckles and moves closer, enveloping me in a tight hug, a gesture we've shared countless times. This time, though, I feel the rumble of his wolf in his chest, its vibrations traveling down my arms.

"If you're mated to some idiot, I'll help you kill him and hide the body. Got it?" he says, half-jokingly. I laugh at his remark until he leans back, placing his hands on my shoulders. His touch prompts me to look up at him.

"I'm not kidding, Irin. I don't care who it is, they won't mess with you," he whispers, his voice low. 

"Mates are meant to be perfect matches," I protest, twitching my nose. "Why would you think—"

He interrupts me, lowering his voice even further. "You don't live in the city like I do. Trust me when I say mates aren't always perfect matches. Not even close. The moon White... well, I don't know what she's up to, but you need to be cautious. Very cautious, given your background."

"Why didn't you tell me this earlier?" I demand.

He shrugs. "Guess I didn't want you to overthink it and try to run. I can't save you if you do, but I can protect you from a terrible mate. I mean it, I'll break every bone in his body if he hurts you."

"Knox—" My words are cut short as Mike reenters the corridor, clearing his throat.

"Get in the car now. It reflects poorly on me if we're late!" he grumbles, holding the front door open. Knox uses his charming smile to elicit a laugh from Mike before I scurry towards the door and step out into the freezing cold snow. It seeps into my dress and shoes, but I welcome the icy stillness in the air. It forces me to momentarily stop fretting.

"Always daydreaming, this one," Mike mutters as he passes me, speaking to Knox at his side. "One of these days, her eyes will get stuck looking up at the clouds."

"At least I'd have a beautiful view for the rest of my life," I retort, watching as they both chuckle. I hasten after them down the path, leading to the old car waiting by the road. We rarely use cars, only on special occasions and for funerals, as per pack rules. The vehicles are dilapidated relics that make a ruckus and consume copious amounts of fuel. Knox pulls open the rusty yellow door, and I slide into the seat opposite, fastening my seatbelt as Knox and Mike settle into their respective spots. Mike takes the driver's seat, and Knox chooses to sit next to me instead of shotgun.

About ten minutes into the drive, I realize why Knox has chosen this seat as my hands tremble. He covers my hand with his own, offering comfort and support.

Please, moon White, choose Knox or someone decent. I don't want to become a mate murderer in my first year as a wolf.

Chapter 3

As I slowly awaken, my eyes are met with a mesmerizing display of flickering lights. Blinking away the remnants of sleep, I find myself nestled against Knox's sturdy shoulder, his arm securely wrapped around my waist. The unexpected intimacy startles me, causing me to jolt upright and narrowly avoiding a collision with Knox's chin. His wolf-like reflexes allow him to swiftly move out of harm's way. I extricate myself from his embrace, and he clears his throat, straightening up in his seat and raking a hand through his unruly hair. Rather than dwell on the awkwardness of the moment, I turn my attention to the window, where frost clings to its edges. We are driving along a cliff that overlooks the glistening sea between Wales and Ireland. This place holds a special significance for me, as it was here that I first witnessed a mating ceremony during a school trip when I was fifteen. It is a location that has been etched into my dreams over the years. For most wolves, this is where they will meet their lifelong mates and embark on a new chapter of their lives. For me, it represents an escape from my painful past and a chance to discover the desires of the moon White. Surely, there must be more to life than the torment inflicted upon me by the pack leaders and the solitude of being an outcast without a family. I catch Mike's gaze in the rearview mirror, and a hint of sadness lingers in his eyes, a familiar sight that stems from witnessing the atrocities I have endured at the hands of the pack. Protecting me has been his constant struggle, but he understands that he cannot always be there. "We're nearly there, aren't we?" Knox interrupts my thoughts, for which I am grateful. Delving into that dark corridor of memories would only lead to further heartache. "They should have allowed you to wear a coat over your dress. It's freezing out here." "I've never been bothered by the cold," I remind him, turning my gaze back to the window as we pull into a gravelled area near the cliff. Groups of people are scattered around, some strolling down the stone pathway that leads to the beach, marked by fire lanterns on wooden poles at regular intervals, lending an eerie and foreboding ambiance to the walk. "You can do this, Irin. Ever since you were discovered in the woods, half-starved, filthy, and alone, you have displayed immense courage," Mike assures me, switching off the car's engine and meeting my eyes through the mirror. "You are a woman whom this pack will be proud to have. Hold your head high, leave the past behind, and show them who you truly are, Irin." A blush creeps up my cheeks, and I hastily wipe away a few tears, willing my trembling hands to steady themselves as I grasp the door handle. I cannot bring myself to tell him, without my voice breaking, how much I will miss his words of wisdom, his kindness, and his unwavering support. Opening the door, I step out onto the lightly snow-covered ground, instantly assailed by the frigid, biting sea air that sends shivers coursing through my entire being. I taste the salt in the air, smell the briny scent of the sea, and hear the rhythmic crash of waves against the sandy shore below. The wind playfully whips strands of hair across my face as Knox strides past me, stealing a single glance before making his way down the path to join the other men waiting on the beach. Mike positions himself by my side, and together we wait as the men depart down the path, while we, the women, remain perched atop the cliff, biding our time until it is our turn to descend. Some parents linger for a while, their gazes fixed on the distant edge of the cliff where a large crowd of spectators eagerly awaits to witness the enchantment of the mating ceremony. Eventually, Mike joins them, never once glancing back at me. The other girls gather around, pretending I am invisible, just as they have done since my arrival at their school. A tiny part of me stings with the realization that not a single one of the forty-two girls in my class, who have known me for six years, even acknowledges my existence. To them, I am an inconspicuous figure, invisible to my pack and the rest of the world. I rub my chest, feeling a pang of anguish when the bell tolls. A solitary, melodious ring fills the air, signaling the commencement of the mating ceremony and infusing the atmosphere with a palpable tension that renders everyone silent. The women line up in perfect formation, and naturally, I find myself at the back, positioned behind Chloe Ravensword, someone who has never spared me a glance despite her own low potential mate status due to her father's attempted escape from the pack, resulting in his death when she was just a toddler. Even she, with her family branded as betrayers to the alpha himself, outranks me. She flicks her lustrous dark brown hair over her shoulder, sneering at me once with her stunning face before turning away. The cold seeps into my bones as the line inches forward, and with each step, my legs feel increasingly rigid, my nerves threatening to overwhelm me to the point of collapse. Each stride along the cliff's edge feels like torture until the beach comes into view. And then, everything fades away, replaced by a sense of pure magic. In the heart of the golden sandy beach stands a colossal archway, adorned with sculptures of two wolves, their noses touching at the center. The wolves tower so high that the tips of their ears graze the heavy clouds above, and icicles trace intricate patterns along the fur on their snow-dusted backs. In the middle of the archway, one of the women gracefully steps into a pool of water beneath it, submerging herself completely before resurfacing and slowly swimming through the archway. Suddenly, the water begins to radiate an ethereal green glow, illuminated by the magic bestowed upon it by the moon White herself. The young lady emerges from the pool on the other side, her entire form bathed in a luminous green aura. Gradually, the magic dissipates from her skin, coalescing into a swirling ball of energy that shoots off into the crowd of waiting male wolf shifters. Their identities remain elusive from this distance, but there is no doubt that cheers erupt when the mate or mates are discovered. I cannot discern who the female has chosen as my view is obstructed by the winding path along the cliff. Nevertheless, I hope she finds happiness with her newfound mates. Knox's cautionary words about mates not always experiencing bliss swirl in my mind, intensifying my nerves. What if he is right? What if I end up with a mate whom I despise, and who loathes me in return? My foot catches on a small rock, causing me to stumble and crash onto the path, a hiss escaping my lips as my hand sustains a cut. As I glance up, Chloe turns back, her laughter echoing through the air as she abandons me on my knees while she continues her journey with the rest of the queue. Tears well up in my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall. Rising to my feet, I notice that my dress is now sullied with sand and mud. I raise my hand, observing blood trickling down from a long gash on my palm. With a sigh, I close my hand, allowing my blood to seep into the damp sand, knowing that I must press forward along this path. What feels like an eternity later, I finally reach the beach and cast a glance across to see Chloe waiting behind three other classmates, just as one of them steps into the water. Only four more remain before my fate is decided. Temptation nudges me to slip off my shoes, to relish the sensation of cold sand beneath my bare feet, but I resist, unwilling to risk losing them. I traverse the expanse of the beach, acutely aware of the multitude of eyes watching and judging me. I steadfastly avoid looking at the men on the other side, knowing that the new alpha will be among them, and their presence evokes a surge of distressing memories. He was merely the alpha's son back then, when we were both fifteen, and he deceived me by pretending to be my friend. Now, at the age of eighteen, he has ascended to the role of alpha after tearing his father to shreds four months ago. The pack fears him, but for me... he instills sheer terror. Keeping my gaze lowered, I only dare to raise it when Chloe steps into the water with an elegance and poise that I could never hope to emulate even in my wildest dreams. She submerges herself, and the water glows with a vibrant green hue. At this close proximity, I can feel the magic beckoning to me, pulling me towards it. The water possesses an enchantment that captivates my senses, rendering me unable to tear my eyes away until the glow fades, and I lift my gaze to witness the magic surrounding Chloe as she stands on the opposite side of the pool. The magic disentangles itself from her body, gathering into a ball before hurtling leftward and crashing into the chest of one of the men at the forefront. But not just any man. Knox. He stands there, frozen in shock, as the green magic dances across his skin before he shifts his gaze to Chloe, then turns to look at me. Our eyes meet, and in that silent exchange, I attempt to convey that everything will be alright. All the while, a tempest brews within my chest, threatening to extinguish any flicker of hope that remains. Knox remains motionless for what feels like an eternity, and Chloe follows his gaze back to me, her eyes narrowing as I quickly avert my gaze and focus on the water. In my peripheral vision, I observe Chloe walking toward Knox, and he places a hand on her back, leading her away from the crowd and toward the pathway that leads to the throngs of people eagerly awaiting their triumphant ascent to the top of the cliff, where they will revel in celebration. Now, it is my turn. A profound silence descends, drowning out even the roar of the sea and the snow-filled sky, as I take a step forward and feel my foot sink into the warm waters. Instantly, the water ignites with a blinding green radiance that sears my eyes, pulling me further in until my head submerges. The brilliance of the green light intensifies as I float in the water, enveloped in its luminescence, until a voice fills my mind. "You are my chosen, Irin. My chosen." Something materializes in my hand as I am propelled to the surface, gasping for breath as I emerge from the water on the opposite side. I struggle to regain my footing on the sandy shore, my body shrouded in swirling waves of green magic. It pulsates, almost violently, in spirals and undulations before disentangling itself from me, coalescing into a colossal sphere of green magic, larger than any other. Why must I stand out in such a manner? With so many eyes trained upon me? I cannot bear to look or listen to anyone as I watch the magical sphere spin through the air before hurtling across the sand and colliding with the man at the center of the pack. A man who haunts my nightmares. A man who stole my innocence, shattered it, and instilled within me an unyielding fear. The alpha of my pack.

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