~~ANIKA VALERION~~
THE ECLIPSE PACK
“Don’t go, Anika. Just stay back home, with me,” Nana pleaded for the tenth time.
I grabbed my linen dress and rushed to the mirror. But the moment I turned my back, I heard the door click shut behind me.
I whirled around. “Nana? What are you doing? Open the door!” I screamed, rattling the handle frantically.
“It’s for your own good, Anika,” she whispered, her words laced with unexplained fear.
“No. It’s not. It’ll only be for my good if I attend the ceremony!”
“You won’t understand, Ani, but please, trust me!” Her voice trembled through the wood.
“Why? Give me a reason!” I screamed, pounding on the door.
Panic curled tight in my chest. I’d spent my entire life being treated as a half-blood because I showed none of the early signs of a wolf. At sixteen, while other kids could track scents from miles away and hear whispers carried on the wind, I stayed the same. Their cuts and bruises healed within minutes. They talked about a second heartbeat pounding beneath their ribs.
I felt nothing.
They all branded me a "wolfless freak," and that label stuck.
“Grandma!” I called again, expecting an answer. Instead, I only heard footsteps fading away.
As much as I wanted to grant her request, I couldn't stay behind. I hadn’t waited eighteen years just to turn back now.
I scanned the small room, my eyes landing on the window. I could use it.
I slipped on my dress and shoved the window frame open. I’m small, so squeezing through the tight gap was easy. I tumbled into the dirt outside, and the instant my feet hit the ground, I ran. Waving off the guilt clawing at my chest, I ran as fast as my legs could carry me.
The Transition Ceremony had been a tradition in our pack for decades. On this night, unturned teen wolves gathered in the square with their families, waiting in tense silence for the precise moment the moon reached its peak. When it did, the surge of lunar energy would awaken whatever lay dormant in their blood.
If a wolf spirit existed, it clawed its way to the surface, rebirthing them as something new. If not, they returned as nothing more than untransitioned, powerless wolves.
Ever since I was a child, I had watched the older teens come back from the square transformed—fur coating their bodies, four powerful legs carrying them forward, fire burning in their eyes. An unmistakable aura of pride marked them as true wolves of the Eclipse.
And tonight… I have to experience this—to show them that I have value of my own.
“I’m normal. I will transition today. Just like the others,” I muttered to myself, clutching the hope like a lifeline.
I continued toward the square. The closer I got, the louder the noise became. By the time I arrived, it was already filled with dozens of teens standing in the center of the grounds. Some faces I recognized; some I didn’t.
To the sides, families gathered in circles, waiting to witness their loved ones’ first transition.
I swallowed hard, a lump forming in my throat. I was the only one standing alone.
Nana wasn’t here. She wasn't standing in the circle with me—and I couldn’t understand why.
I inhaled sharply, trying to calm myself. It barely worked.
I smoothed the front of my linen dress and stepped toward the transition line, ready to join my peers.
But before I could take my place, I heard approaching footsteps and a sharp, mocking laugh that grated against my nerves like broken glass.
I didn't even have to look up to know who they were.
Joana stepped directly into my path, her arms folded across her chest. She looked pristine, her silk gown shimmering in the torchlight—a cruel contrast to my rough linen.
I met her gaze—and she smiled, the kind a predator gives before tearing into a rabbit.
“Oh?” Her eyes widened in exaggerated surprise as they swept over me, lingering on the frayed hem of my skirt. She reached out and pinched the fabric with two manicured fingers.
“Such a... brave choice of dress.”
My fingers tightened at my sides.
She released the fabric and wiped her fingers on her own dress, clicking her tongue in pity. “Did your Nana stitch this together from old potato sacks? What a shame, really.” Her gaze sharpened instantly, the sweetness vanishing. “All that effort... just to look like trash. I thought I told you to stay in your hole, rat.”
“Everyone has to be here,” I said, my voice steadier than I felt.
Joana laughed, a short, cutting sound. “Oh, sweetheart. Not everyone.”
She stepped closer, invading my personal space until her perfume—cloying roses and rot—flooded my lungs.
“Look around you, Anika. We are the future of this pack. We are predators. You?” She leaned down to whisper in my ear. “You are just prey waiting to be eaten. When the rest of us shift and you’re left standing there like a stain the Moon forgot to wipe away—do try not to make a scene. It ruins the aesthetic.”
Something in me snapped. The years of swallowing her poison finally choked me.
“I have every right to be here,” I said, lifting my chin, refusing to back down. “And I’m done letting a spoiled brat decide what I’m worth.”
The air went still. The whispers around us died down.
For the first time in all the years she’d tormented me, Joana’s mask of perfection cracked. Her smile faltered—then curdled into something grotesque. Her face flushed, eyes flashing with pure, ugly rage at being challenged by a "nobody."
“What did you just say to me?” she hissed.
Her hand came up, aiming straight for my face—
"Silence."
A deep, baritone voice cut through the chaos of the square.
My heart skipped a beat. I didn't turn because I was told to; I turned because that voice demanded to be heard.
I looked toward the high ledge at the farther end of the square.
A figure stepped out first—behind our Alpha Marcus, someone who commanded the air around him just as effortlessly.
He was tall, with a lean, predator-like build that made him tower over everyone else. His dark hair fell in waves around his shoulders, wild and untamed. Unlike the others dressed in stiff ceremonial robes, he wore casual clothes, looking bored out of his mind.
"Alpha Marcus Mortain," he announced simply. His tone was flat, detached, as if this sacred ritual were nothing more than a tedious chore he had to endure.
Only then did our Alpha Marcus step forward, acknowledging the bowing crowd. But I still couldn't tear my eyes away from the young man who had spoken.
Xander Mortain. The Cold-Blooded Heir.
He didn't look at the cheering crowd. His gaze was fixed right in our direction—cold, blank, and utterly expressionless—I guess that was probably because he was unhappy about the scene that had just unfolded here.
Beside me, I heard a sharp intake of breath. Joana was also staring at him, her eyes practically glowing with adoration. She quickly smoothed her hair, pushing her chest out to make herself more noticeable.
"You’d be the perfect Luna for him, Joana," one of her minions whispered dreamily, loud enough for me to hear. “Look at him. He just screams power.”
Joana huffed, a smug smile playing on her lips. "Naturally. I’m certain he’ll fall in love with me the moment I shift. A man like that needs a strong wolf, not... whatever that is." She cast a disdainful glance at me before turning her hungry gaze back to the ledge.
On the platform, Xander leaned back against a pillar, his indifference palpable. His gaze began to scan the line of teenagers waiting to shift. It was a sweeping, dismissive look—until it stopped.
For a heartbeat, those freezing grey eyes locked onto our section of the crowd.
"OMG, he's looking at me," Joana gasped, clutching her minion's arm, her face flushing with excitement. "I told you! He can't take his eyes off me!"
Joana was preening, waving slightly. But I froze, my breath catching in my throat.
Xander’s eyes weren't on her.
They were boring directly into mine.
A jolt of electricity shot down my spine. I felt suddenly, terrifyingly exposed, as if those grey eyes could see right through my linen dress and into the terrified soul beneath.
Then as quickly as it happened, he looked away, staring back into nothingness.
Alpha Marcus’s voice boomed, assessing each of us. The clouds were already parting, the moon slowly coming into view.
"Tonight, you leave your childhood behind and embrace the beast. Transition into your full blooded wolves.”
With every word, my heart raced uncontrollably. As if on cue, the moon reached its zenith—the moment had finally arrived.
Around me, teenagers began to collapse to the ground. I heard the sickening cracks of bones shifting and caught glimpses of bodies bending at impossible angles as they transformed.
Could I go through the same and prove them wrong?