Lizzy's POV
The evening air was cool against my skin as Anabella and I wandered through the quiet streets of our small town, the distant hum of traffic a faint backdrop to our footsteps. After an hour of spirited debate over dinner options; pizza, tacos, or something fancier, we'd settled on grabbing noodles from the little shop around the corner. The savory aroma of soy sauce and sesame oil wafted from the takeout bags in our hands, but my hunger was overshadowed by a gnawing worry that clung to me like a shadow.
Ana's nightmares had been relentless lately, and they haunted me almost as much as they did her. Four years of friendship, countless late-night talks, and shared secrets, yet she still hadn't opened up about the terrors that left her trembling in the dark. I'd done everything I could to keep her smiling, baking her favorite chocolate chip cookies, dragging her to silly rom-com movie nights, even roping her into my baking experiments at the shop. But the weight of her unspoken pain was a wall I couldn't breach. If only she'd let me in, I might know how to help, how to ease the fear that flickered in her eyes when she thought I wasn't looking.
We walked in silence, the kind that felt heavy with unspoken words. I caught Ana glancing at me, her hazel eyes tinged with concern. She must've noticed my unusual quietness, me, the chatterbox who could talk about everything from cupcake frosting to the latest celebrity gossip, wordless for once. The silence stretched, awkward and unfamiliar, until I couldn't take it anymore. Desperate to break the tension, I blurted, "Ana, did you hear? Becky's pregnant with Mike's kid!"
"No way!" she gasped, her face lighting up as she burst into laughter, the sound bright and infectious. I couldn't help but join her, our giggles echoing off the brick walls of the sleepy street. For a moment, the weight lifted, and we were just two friends, caught up in the absurdity of small-town gossip. As we made our way home, the noodle bags swinging between us, I clung to that fleeting moment of joy, hoping it could anchor us against whatever shadows lay ahead.
Anabella's POV
Lizzy's worry was a tangible thing, hanging in the air like the humidity before a storm. I'd seen it in her eyes ever since I'd woken up that morning, drenched in sweat, my heart pounding as if I'd sprinted a marathon. The nightmares had been worse lately; vivid, clawing things that left me gasping, my mind tangled in images I couldn't shake. But I wasn't ready to tell her, not yet. Lizzy's sadness would break me, her pity would unravel the fragile strength I'd stitched together over the years. She was my rock, my proof that maybe, just maybe, the universe hadn't abandoned me entirely. These past four years, especially the two we'd spent sharing our cozy two-bedroom flat, had been my lifeline; a safe harbor in a world that often felt too cruel.
After we devoured our noodles, the spicy warmth settling comfortably in our stomachs, we parted ways for the night. Lizzy, true to form, retreated to her room with one of her beloved werewolf novels. She swore those creatures were real, devouring tales of vampires, witches, and star-crossed romances with a fervor that made me smile. I teased her about it, but secretly, I envied her ability to lose herself in those fantastical worlds. My own bookshelf was stocked with action novels; stories of skilled fighters, heart-pounding horror, and the occasional sappy love story that I'd never admit to enjoying. As I slipped under my covers, the weight of the day pressed against me, and I couldn't shake the feeling that my nightmares were more than just dreams. They felt like warnings, like fragments of a truth I wasn't ready to face.
I closed my eyes, willing sleep to come, but the shadows of my nightmares lingered, whispering at the edges of my mind. Somewhere deep inside, I wondered if Lizzy's obsession with the supernatural wasn't as far-fetched as I'd always thought.
Xavier's POV
The forest was a symphony of chaos; snarls, howls, and the metallic tang of blood thick in the air. My pack, the Moonlight Pack, moved like a well-oiled machine, each warrior a deadly extension of my will. I stood at the center of the carnage, my massive wolf form towering over the battlefield, its half-black, half-white fur gleaming under the silvery glow of the full moon. Years of relentless training had forged me into something beyond a mere wolf; a force of nature, a predator unmatched in strength and precision. My pack was feared, revered, and tonight, we were proving why.
"Daniel, ensure none escape," I commanded through the mindlink, my voice a low, guttural growl that reverberated in the minds of my warriors. "I want every rogue dead."
The rogues had been bold, attacking our borders with a reckless audacity that bordered on insanity. Two hundred fifty of them against my twenty-five elite warriors. They never stood a chance. My claws ripped through flesh, my jaws crushed bone, and blood painted the forest floor in crimson streaks. I was a whirlwind of death, my brownish-green eyes blazing into a deep, sparkling red; a warning of the rage that burned within me. Ninety-nine rogues had fallen to my wrath, their bodies littering the ground like broken toys.
Then I saw him, the rogue leader. He stood apart, his mangy gray fur matted with blood, his eyes glinting with a defiance that only fueled my fury. My growl thundered through the clearing, a sound so primal it froze every wolf in its tracks, friend and foe alike. The rogue leader charged, his movements reckless but swift, his teeth bared in a desperate bid for dominance.
I didn't move. I didn't need to. My senses were razor-sharp, every muscle coiled like a spring. He lunged, his claws aimed for my throat, but I was faster, always faster. In a single, fluid motion, I sidestepped, seized him by the scruff, and hurled him to the ground with a force that shook the earth. My jaws closed around his chest, tearing through fur and muscle with savage precision. His heart was mine in moments, ripped from his body in a spray of blood that stained my muzzle red.
The battle was over in under fifteen minutes. Two hundred fifty rogues, reduced to nothing but corpses at the feet of the Moonlight Pack. My warriors stood tall, their eyes gleaming with pride and loyalty. No one challenged us and lived. No one.
As the adrenaline faded, I shifted back to my human form, my chest heaving, my body slick with sweat and blood. Daniel approached, his face grim but respectful. "It's done, Alpha," he said, his voice steady despite the slaughter we'd just wrought.
"Good," I replied, my voice cold, my eyes scanning the carnage. "Clean this up. No traces."
I turned, striding back toward the pack house, the weight of my title settling over me like a mantle. I was Xavier, Alpha of the Moonlight Pack, and I would protect my people at any cost. But as the moonlight faded behind the trees, a flicker of something; regret perhaps, or exhaustion stirred in my chest. I pushed it down, burying it beneath the walls I'd built long ago. Love, hope, vulnerability; those were luxuries I couldn't afford. Not now, not ever.