~~ANIKA VALERION~~
~~THE ECLIPSE PACK~~
“Don’t go, Anika. Just stay home with me,” Nana pleaded for the tenth time.
I grabbed my linen dress and rushed to the mirror. But the moment I turned away, the lock clicked shut behind me.
I whirled around. “Nana? What are you doing? Open the door!” I screamed, rattling the handle.
“It’s for your own good, Anika,” she whispered, her words laced with fear.
“No, it isn't! I need to be at that 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 like a half-blood because I showed none of the early signs of a wolf.
When we turned sixteen, while other kids could track scents from miles away and hear whispers carried on the wind, I was stuck in neutral.
Their cuts healed within minutes. They talked about a second heartbeat pounding beneath their ribs. I felt zip.
They all branded me a "wolfless freak," and the label stuck.
“Grandma!” I called again, expecting an answer. Instead, I only heard footsteps fading down the hall.
No, I couldn't stay behind. I hadn’t waited eighteen years just to throw in the towel now.
I scanned the room, my eyes landing on the window.
I slipped on my dress and shoved the window open. I’m small, so squeezing through the gap was easy. I tumbled into the dirt outside, and the instant my feet hit the ground, I booked it. Brushing off the guilt clawing at my chest, I ran like the wind.
The Transition Ceremony had been a tradition in our pack for decades. On this night, unturned wolves gathered in the square with their families, waiting in silence for the 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.
Ever since I was a kid, I had watched the older teens come back from the square transformed—fur coating their bodies, four legs carrying them forward, fire burning in their eyes. An unmistakable aura marked them as true wolves of the Eclipse.
And tonight… it was my turn to prove my worth.
I sprinted toward the square. The closer I got, the louder the noise became. The roar of the pack grew deafening with every step. By the time I arrived, the grounds were packed to the gills. Dozens of teens stood in the center—some faces familiar, others strangers.
To the sides, families gathered in circles, waiting to witness their loved ones’ first shift.
I swallowed hard, a lump forming in my throat. I was the only one standing alone.
Nana wasn’t here. She should have been standing in the circle with me.
I inhaled sharply, trying to calm myself. It barely worked.
I smoothed the front of my dress and stepped toward the transition line, ready to join my peers.
But before I could take my place, I heard footsteps and a mocking laugh that grated my nerves like broken glass.
I didn't even have to look up to know who it was.
Joana stepped directly into my path, her arms folded across her chest. She looked pristine, her gown shimmering in the torchlight—a stark contrast to my linen.
I met her gaze—and she smiled, the kind a predator gives before tearing into a rabbit.
“Oh?” Her eyes widened in 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 dropped the fabric and wiped her fingers on her own dress, clicking her tongue in pity. “Did your Nana stitch this for you? What a shame, really.” Her smile vanished, replaced by a sneer. “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 barked a laugh. “Oh, sweetheart. Not everyone.”
She stepped closer, invading my 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 vibe.”
Something in me snapped. Years of biting my tongue finally boiled over.
“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.”
You could hear a pin drop. The whispers around us died away.
For the first time in all the years she’d tormented me, Joana’s mask cracked. Her smile faltered—then curdled into a scowl. Her face flushed, eyes flashing with 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 voice cut through the chaos of the square.
My heart skipped a beat.
I looked toward the ledge at the far end of the square.
A figure stepped out first—not Alpha Marcus, but someone who owned the room just as effortlessly.
He was tall, with a lean, well-defined build that made him stand out effortlessly in any crowd. Unlike the others dressed in ceremonial robes, he wore simple, tailored clothes that fit him perfectly, exuding a quiet confidence. There was a hint of boredom in his expression, but it only added to his aloof, dangerously attractive charm.
"Alpha Marcus Mortain," he announced simply. His tone was flat, as if this ritual were nothing more than a 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—blank—likely because he was pissed about the scene we'd caused.
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, 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 gaze began to scan the line of teenagers waiting to shift. It was a sweeping look—until it stopped.
For a heartbeat, those grey eyes locked onto our section of the crowd.
"Oh my God, 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 locked onto mine.
A jolt of electricity shot down my spine. I felt exposed, as if those eyes could see right through my 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 childhood behind. Tonight, you embrace the wolves.”
With every word, my heart raced uncontrollably. As if on cue, the moon reached its zenith—the moment had finally arrived.