Please don't kill my child. It wasn't his fault. I broke the rule, not my child. Eloise pleaded with her knees to the ground but Damian the alpha could not care less.
"The prophecy" Eloise said.
"Prophecy be damned" Damian roared.
"If you go through with this… if you hurt him, I swear to the Moon itself I won't just stand and watch. I'll fight you."
A low growl rumbled from the Alpha's chest. The forest around them grew still, the wind holding its breath, as though even the trees feared what was to come.
"You? Fight me?" The Alpha's laugh was deep and cruel, echoing through the dense woods. "You might be the Omega, Eloise, but your power is nothing. You are a relic clinging to hope for a prophecy that will never come true."
He stepped forward, eyes flashing gold. "And believe me when I say never, because this child will not leave here alive."
Eloise didn't respond. She didn't have to.
In a blur of motion, the forest exploded into chaos. The Alpha lunged, and Eloise met him mid-air, their bodies colliding with bone-crunching force. Energy rippled through the trees as claws tore through bark and teeth snapped dangerously close to skin.
Eloise was no match for his brute strength, but she fought with something far more dangerous: a mother's wrath.
He slammed her against a thick trunk. Blood sprayed. She collapsed but only for a heartbeat. Gritting her teeth, she staggered up again, her limbs quivering.
She wouldn't let him have a second chance. Not one.
This wasn't just about prophecy anymore, this was about her son.
The Alpha growled and came at her again. This time she dodged, flipping mid-air and clawing at his side. Blood oozed from the wound, but he barely flinched. He was built for war. She was built for endurance. But even endurance had limits.
She was tiring fast.
A brutal strike knocked her across the clearing. She hit the ground with a hard thud, her ribs shattering from the force. Her vision blurred. The sound of her son whimpering behind a rock sharpened her focus.
She couldn't die here, she wouldn't.
With blood in her mouth and pain in every limb, she reached for her boy. The Alpha was already moving in again, a snarl on his face.
So she ran.
Holding the child tightly against her chest, she bolted through the woods. Leaves whipped past her face. Her breathing turned shallow. Her legs, barely functional, carried her on sheer willpower alone. The Alpha chased for a while until she crossed the river, bleeding heavily, losing scent rapidly.
Then she was alone again. Time blurred.
Her body was failing. Her healing was slowing. Death nipped at her heels like a starving dog. But her baby… he had to live.
She found herself at the edge of human territory—an old wooden house on a quiet road, just beyond the forest's reach. Moonlight illuminated the porch.
Eloise kissed her son's forehead.
"Forgive me," she whispered, tucking a necklace into the folds of his blanket. A crescent moon carved in obsidian. "May this guide you when your time comes."
She laid him at the doorstep, her fingers trembling as they brushed his cheek one last time. Then she turned and limped back into the forest, blood marking her path. But soon, even the blood vanished.
And with it Eloise was gone.
No one ever heard from her again.
***
SIXTEEN YEARS LATER
Brandy Janman had always felt like an oddity, even in his own skin. His adoptive parents, gentle and good-hearted, loved him fiercely. They told him he was special, a gift
that showed up one night when the sky was silver and the stars were restless.
But no matter how much love he felt… he knew he was different.
At sixteen, the differences became impossible to ignore.
It started with hair. One morning, he woke up covered in it dense, unnatural. He shaved it off in a panic, but by nightfall, it had returned even thicker, crawling up his arms and down his spine.
He didn't tell his parents. Not yet.
A week later, he broke a steel door handle without trying. He merely gripped it in frustration, and it snapped like dry wood. His hands were trembling, not from fear, but from something deeper. Something awakening.
He began avoiding mirrors.
Because every time he looked, he saw something incomplete staring back. Something... waiting.
Then came the night everything changed.
The sky held a full moon, glowing like a blade in the dark. A strange stillness hung in the air. Brandy sat in his room, the window cracked open, the breeze laced with the scent of pine and something ancient.
Then it began.
His muscles spasmed. Bones popped. Pain flared through his spine as if fire had ignited inside his blood. He fell to his knees, screaming but no one came.
His voice twisted into a growl. His skin rippled. Hair erupted across his body. His eyes burned amber.
He crawled to the mirror.
And what looked back at him wasn't human.
Yellow eyes. Fangs. Claws. A wild, hulking thing, half-boy, half-beast.
"No… no no no what am I?!" he gasped, but even his own voice was no longer his.
Panic seized him. Without thought, he burst from the house, the glass door shattering behind him. He ran.
Past fences. Over roads. Into the forest.
The woods welcomed him like an old friend.
He didn't stop running, not until the pain dulled, and the moon no longer scorched his insides. That's when he saw it.
A hut. Old, thatched, small. Half-buried in ivy, the door slightly ajar. Something about it felt familiar like a shadow from a forgotten dream.
He staggered toward it.
Inside, it was dark. Dust floated in the moonlight leaking through the roof. There was a table, a cot, a fire long dead in a stone pit. On the wall was a faded carving of a crescent moon. Brandy stared at it, a strange ache blooming in his chest.
He took one step forward then collapsed.