Chapter 3

(Seraphina POV)

I am barely fourteen years old. I have never attended a high-ranking funeral before, let alone one for a future Luna. When the services began at two o'clock in the afternoon, my naive assumption was that the prayers and eulogies would be completely concluded before the sun dipped below the horizon.

I didn't realize the catastrophic scale of my miscalculation until the sky began to bleed into the dark, indigo hues of twilight, and I was firmly trapped in the most visible seats of the amphitheater, wedged directly beside my grieving mother. If I had known this agonizing ordeal would drag into the night, I would have begged to sit in the very back, obfuscated by the shadows. Doing so would have undoubtedly earned me a fierce reprimand from my parents, but a reprimand was infinitely better than what was about to happen.

The pain started as a dull ache in my lower back but rapidly mutated into hot, molten spikes driving into my spine. Every minute that ticked by amplified the fever burning just beneath my skin. The world around me started to tilt and spin. The whispers of the elder wolves praising Gwendolyn's virtue dissolved into a high-pitched ringing in my ears. I shifted my weight, trying to alleviate the crushing pressure in my thighs, but the movement only triggered a violent cramp that nearly doubled me over. I knew enough from biology classes and whispered rumors: my first shift was imminent, and I was mere moments away from an explosive, bloody spectacle right in the middle of my sister's sacred rites.

I had to leave. Now.

Any foolish, desperate hope I harbored that my mother or father might notice my distress, might quietly step away with me to guide me through the terrifying transition, evaporated. They were lost in their own sea of devastation, their eyes locked on the white casket. I was entirely alone.

As I forcefully pushed myself up from the wooden bench, my legs trembled violently like overstretched wire. The sudden movement drew the immediate, searing ire of my mother. She whipped her head around, her eyes widening in a mix of horror and profound disgust as I whispered a frantic, fragmented excuse. She gripped my wrist, her nails digging deep into my skin, but I yanked my arm free.

Stumbling backward, I felt the heavy, suffocating weight of an Alpha’s aura pressing down on me. I didn't need to guess who it belonged to. I turned my head and locked eyes with Sebastian. Through the dimly lit amphitheater, the sheer, unadulterated hatred radiating from his blue eyes struck me with the force of a physical blow. It paralyzed me for a fraction of a second, but a fresh wave of blinding agony shattered his hold. Clumsily, I spun around, accidentally clipping a tall stand of white lilies. The heavy vase crashed to the stone floor, the sound echoing like a gunshot through the silent prayers.

I didn't stop to apologize. I burst through the double doors and plunged into the frigid night air, sprinting toward the tree line. At first, my panicked instincts drew me toward the familiar Eastern trails, the same path Gwendolyn and I had taken last night. But the phantom stench of blood and terror violently redirected me. I pivoted hard, crashing blindly through the dense underbrush toward the Western quadrant, aiming for the secluded roar of the waterfall.

Why had she insisted on meeting me there last night? Before she left Sebastian on the couch, she had texted me, demanding I meet her at midnight, claiming she had a "special surprise." Knowing Gwendolyn, that "surprise" was likely a cruel prank. But foolishly, I had gone.

A sickening *crack* echoed through the silent forest as my femur fractured and instantly began reshaping itself. I collapsed into the freezing mud, a horrifying scream tearing past my lips.

*"Keep going, Seraphina. Keep going. Get to the waterfall."*

The voice resonated clearly inside my own skull, ancient, rich, and utterly commanding.

I froze, gasping for breath through a mouthful of dirt. "W-who?"

*"I will help you through this, but you cannot stop,"* the voice thundered, vibrating through the very marrow of my shifting bones. *"Crawl if you must, little one, but you need to reach the water."*

I didn't possess the strength to argue. Dragging my agonizing, contorting body through the ferns and jagged rocks, I crawled until the damp mist of the waterfall washed over my feverish skin. I collapsed at the edge of the deep pool. The pain arrived in monolithic waves, a brutal, unmaking fire that liquefied my muscles and shredded my joints. There were moments I was certain my heart had stopped, that the transition was tearing me limb from limb.

*"Hold on. Clear your mind. Do not fight the breaking. Surrender to it."*

I squeezed my eyes shut and let the agonizing inferno consume me. The sounds of tearing flesh and snapping cartilage were violently loud, but gradually, miraculously, the white-hot pain dissolved into a thrumming, electric hum of immense power.

*"Good job, Seraphina. You did good,"* the voice murmured.

I opened my eyes, expecting to see hands. Instead, heavy, jet-black paws rested on the wet stones. I scrambled closer to the pool, peering down into the moonlit reflection.

My heart, which had just resumed beating, stuttered to a halt. In werewolf society, a wolf's appearance generally adheres strictly to their bloodline. Beta children birthed Beta wolves—typically standard builds with brown, gray, or white coats.

Staring back at me was a creature ripped straight from ancient pack mythology. She was massive, easily rivaling the sheer physical bulk of a fully mature Alpha male. Her thick, luxurious fur was a breathtaking, luminescent bluish-silver that seemed to trap and reflect the moonlight. And there, starkly stamped across her right flank, extending toward her solid black tail, was a massive, pitch-black marking of a crescent moon.

"What... what are we?" I asked, completely bewildered.

*"I am Nyx,"* she replied, a smug satisfaction in her tone. *"And we are a blessing from the Moon Goddess herself. You will understand more in time."*

I sat by the water, basking in the newfound strength and sensory overload of my wolf form, until the terrifying reality of my absence crashed down upon me. The funeral.

Panic flooded my system. Nyx calmly walked me through the process of drawing the wolf back inward, a transition that was infinitely easier than the breakout. Once back in my bruised, shivering human skin, I frantically dug through the hollow log where I had stashed an oversized men's t-shirt yesterday. I threw the fabric over my head and snatched my discarded glasses from the mud. Now that I was shifted, my eyesight was perfectly healed; the thick lenses instantly gave me a splitting headache.

*"Keep them on,"* Nyx commanded sharply. *"Let them believe you have not shifted. It is safer that way for now."*

Trusting her ancient instincts, I bolted back toward the packhouse, silently slipping through the servant’s corridor and creeping toward the Beta suite. I just needed to change into mourning clothes and quietly reintegrate into the reception crowd.

But the moment I opened the heavy oak door to our family living quarters, the overhead lights flared.

My mother stood in the center of the room. The grief that had been consuming her at the temple had flash-calcified into an insane, homicidal rage.

"Where have you been?" she screamed, the sound echoing ominously off the walls. "How dare you make a scene at your sister's funeral! Have you absolutely no shame? Are you so inherently selfish that you can't contain yourself for one night?"

I stood completely paralyzed. "I... I couldn't—"

Before I could offer a single defense, she crossed the room in two long strides. Her hand cracked across my jaw with a force I had never experienced in my fourteen years of life. The blow spun me around, sending me crashing hard into the floorboards.

A metallic tang flooded my mouth. I looked up, stunned, as she drew her foot back and kicked me brutally in the ribs. The beatings continued from there, a relentless cascade of fists and slurs, cementing the grim reality of what my life without Gwendolyn would become.