The Moon's Call

The taste of dirt was the first thing I learned in the pack. It was gritty, bitter, and tasted faintly of iron—likely because my lip was split again.

I hit the ground hard, the impact knocking the air from my lungs in a wheezing gasp. Above me, the canopy of the forest spun in a dizzying kaleidoscope of green and gold, sunlight filtering through the leaves to mock my defeat.

"Dead," Elara stated, her voice devoid of sympathy.

She stood over me, blotting out the sun. Her chest heaved slightly, a sheen of sweat glistening on her pale skin, but she looked like she’d barely exerted herself. I, on the other hand, felt like I’d been put through a meat grinder.

I groaned, rolling onto my side and spitting a glob of bloody saliva into the moss. "I tripped."

"You hesitated," Elara corrected, extending a hand. Her grip was iron-hard as she hauled me to my feet. "Thorne’s wolves won’t wait for you to find your footing. They’ll rip your throat out while you’re thinking about which foot to move."

It had been days—maybe a week? Time had become a fluid concept, measured not in hours but in the rhythms of the den. Waking, training, eating, sleeping. The cycle was relentless. My body ached in places I didn’t know existed, muscles torn down and rebuilt denser, harder. The soft city girl was being carved away, whittled down to something sharper.

I wiped the sweat from my brow, wincing as my fingers brushed the bruising on my temple. "Again," I rasped.

Elara raised an eyebrow, a flicker of respect lighting her green eyes. "Glutton for punishment. Good. The moon rises full tonight. You need to be ready."

Tonight.

The word sent a shiver through me that had nothing to do with the cool forest air. The full moon. The deadline Jax had spoken of. The bite mark on my shoulder throbbed in response, a dull, heavy pulse that seemed to sync with my heartbeat. It had healed into a raised, silvery scar that looked like a brand.

"Take a break," a deep voice rumbled from the edge of the clearing.

Jax stepped out of the shadows of the treeline. He was watching us, his arms crossed over his massive chest. He wore only loose pants, his feet bare against the forest floor. The sight of him still made my breath hitch—the sheer scale of him, the raw power coiled under his skin.

He walked toward us, his amber eyes locked on me. He ignored Elara completely.

"You're pushing her too hard," he told the blonde wolf, though his gaze was tracing the dirt smeared on my cheek.

"She needs to survive the change, Alpha," Elara countered, though she dipped her head respectfully. "If her body isn't ready for the break, the bone-song will kill her."

"She's ready," Jax said softly. He reached out, his thumb brushing the split in my lip.

The sting vanished, replaced by a thrumming heat that shot straight to my groin. My body’s reaction to him was becoming uncontrollable. It was a constant, low-level fever. My skin felt too tight, my senses dialed up to a painful frequency. I could smell the arousal rolling off him—spicy, musky, like burnt cedar—and I knew he could smell me too.

"Go," Jax dismissed Elara without looking away.

She vanished into the trees, silent as a ghost.

Jax stepped closer, crowding my space. He smelled of the den—smoke and stone—and the fresh, metallic scent of blood. He’d been hunting.

"You're bleeding," I whispered, reaching out to touch a shallow scratch on his pectoral muscle.

"Patrol," he grunted, capturing my hand and pressing it flat against his heart. It beat slowly, powerfully, like a war drum. "Thorne's scouts. They're getting bolder. We found signs near the river."

"Signs?"

His jaw tightened. "A deer. Torn apart, but not eaten. Left as a message. Wasteful." His eyes darkened, the amber flaring with a predator's rage. "He wants to weaken us before he strikes. He knows the moon is tonight. He knows you turn tonight."

Fear coiled in my gut, cold and slippery. "Will he attack during the ritual?"

"Let him try," Jax growled. He pulled me into him, his arms wrapping around my waist, crushing my breasts against his chest. "You are pack. You are mine. Tonight, we seal it. Once the knot is tied, not even death can sever the bond."

He lowered his head, nuzzling into the crook of my neck. He inhaled deeply, his nose brushing the sensitive skin below my ear.

"You smell like rain and fear," he murmured, his voice vibrating against my throat. "And heat. So much heat."

He was right. I was burning up. It felt like my blood was boiling, bubbling just beneath the surface of my skin.

"It hurts," I admitted, my voice trembling. "My bones... they ache."

"Good," he said, biting lightly at the tendon in my neck. "That means the wolf is waking. She's scratching at the door, Lila. Let her out."

---

The sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in bruises of purple and blood-orange. The air in the hollow changed. The birds fell silent. The wind died down. A heavy, expectant stillness settled over the forest, broken only by the rhythmic, low thud of drums starting up deep within the den.

Boom. Boom. Boom.

It wasn't music. It was a heartbeat.

I sat in the small alcove, shivering despite the heat of the fire. Elara and two other female wolves—Mara and Seline—were preparing me.

I was stripped bare. My clothes, the last remnants of my human modesty, were folded and taken away. I sat naked on a stool while they painted my skin.

They used a paste made of ochre and crushed herbs that smelled of sage and damp earth. Mara’s cool fingers traced symbols down my spine, spirals and jagged lines that felt ancient. Elara painted my chest, drawing a circle over my heart and lines radiating out toward my breasts and shoulders.

"The symbols guide the spirit," Elara explained softly, dipping her fingers into the bowl of red paste. "They anchor the human soul so the wolf doesn't swallow it whole."

"Does it hurt?" I asked, looking at my hands. They were trembling.

Elara paused, meeting my eyes. "Yes. It is the death of who you were, and the birth of what you are. Birth and death always hurt."

She stood back, wiping her hands on a cloth. "It is time."

They led me out of the alcove and into the main cavern, then through the tunnel that led to the surface.

The night air hit my naked skin like a slap, cool and crisp. But I barely felt the chill. The internal fire was raging now, a fever that made my vision swim. Colors seemed too bright in the moonlight. Shadows looked like solid things I could touch.

We walked to the clearing—a sacred space ringed by ancient oaks whose gnarled branches twisted toward the sky like claws. The moon hung above, fat and heavy and blindingly silver. It looked close enough to touch.

The pack was there.

They formed a wide circle, their bodies painted with white ash. The drums were louder here, pounded by Ronan and two others. The rhythm synced with the pounding of my own heart until I couldn't tell where one ended and the other began.

In the center of the clearing stood a flat stone altar, waist-high and draped in furs.

And Jax.

He stood waiting for me. He was naked, his body oiled and gleaming in the moonlight. The symbols painted on his chest were black, sharp, aggressive. He looked like a god of war, terrifying and beautiful.

The V of his hips drew my gaze downward. He was semi-hard, heavy and thick, swaying slightly as he shifted his weight.

"Lila," he said.

My name on his lips was a summon.

I walked toward him. The grass was cool under my bare feet. The pack began to chant—a low, guttural sound that was more growl than word. It vibrated in the air, thickening the atmosphere until it was hard to breathe.

Jax reached out and took my hands. His skin was scorching hot.

"This night, you become one of us," he said, his voice rough, strained. "The moon will call your blood. I will guide you through it—the pain, the pleasure. Do you yield?"

I looked up at him. The amber fire in his eyes was consuming. I saw the beast lurking just behind the man's pupils, waiting to tear free. And I felt my own beast answering, clawing at my ribs.

"Yes," I whispered. "I yield."

He lifted me onto the altar. The fur beneath me was soft, but the stone underneath was unyielding. I lay back, my legs dangling off the edge.

Jax knelt between my thighs. He spread them wide, his hands gripping my knees with possessive strength.

"The first offering," he growled.

He leaned forward, his hair brushing my stomach, and then his mouth was on me.

I gasped, my back arching off the stone. His tongue was hot, wet, and relentless. He didn't tease. He lapped at my slit with long, broad strokes, tasting me, devouring me.

"Jax!" I cried out, my hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer.

He hummed against me, the vibration sending shockwaves through my clit. He sucked the sensitive nub into his mouth, his tongue flickering rapidly, mercilessly.

Stars burst behind my eyelids. The pleasure was sharp, edging on pain. The drums beat faster. The chanting grew louder.

"Open for me," he commanded against my wetness.

He plunged his tongue deep inside me, mimicking the thrusts to come. I was slick, dripping for him. My hips bucked involuntarily, grinding against his face.

The moon seemed to swell overhead, its light pouring into me, mixing with the heat of his mouth. The mark on my shoulder began to burn—not a throb, but a searing, white-hot agony like a branding iron.

I screamed, but it wasn't just from the pleasure.

"It's starting!" I sobbed, clutching at his shoulders as he rose.

Jax stood up. His eyes were glowing fully now, no pupil left, just pools of liquid gold. His canines had lengthened, cutting into his lower lip.

"Yes," he snarled. "Let it take you."

He positioned himself at the entrance of my body. He was fully erect now, a monolith of veined steel. The head of his cock rubbed against my slick opening, coating himself in my essence.

"With me," he roared.

He thrust.

It was one smooth, brutal motion. He buried himself to the hilt.

I cried out, the stretch exquisite and terrifying. He was so big. He filled every inch of me, stretching my walls until I felt I would split.

He didn't wait. He began to move.

Deep, grinding strokes. He pulled almost all the way out and slammed back in, his hips meeting mine with a slap of flesh that echoed in the clearing.

The pack's chanting reached a fever pitch. Elara and the others were dancing now, a frenzied, whirling circle of bodies, but I couldn't see them. My world had narrowed to Jax.

"Look at me!" he demanded, pinning my wrists above my head with one hand.

I met his gaze. And then the change hit.

It was a wave of fire that started in my marrow.

My back arched violently, a scream tearing from my throat that sounded like tearing metal.

Crack.

My shin bones shattered.

The pain was blinding. I convulsed, my legs thrashing, but Jax held me down. He didn't stop thrusting. If anything, he drove harder, his rhythm syncing with the breaking of my body.

"Yes, little wolf," he panted, sweat dripping from his face onto mine. "Bear it."

Snap. My ribs reorganized, cracking and shifting. My jaw unhinged with a sickening pop.

It was agony. It was ecstasy. The pain of the transformation blended with the pleasure of his cock driving into me, creating a sensory overload that shattered my mind.

My vision blurred. Colors sharpened into a predatory clarity—I could see the veins in the leaves overhead, the individual hairs on Jax's chest.

Claws burst from my fingertips, ripping through my human nails. I raked them down Jax's shoulders, drawing deep lines of blood.

He snarled, sensing the shift. His own body began to ripple. Fur sprouted along his arms, coarse and black. His face elongated, the human features twisting into a muzzle.

But he held his form enough. Just enough.

He slammed into me one last time, bottoming out deep in my womb.

And then he swelled.

I felt it happen—the base of his penis expanding rapidly, turning into a hard, unforgiving sphere. The knot.

"Mine!" he roared, his voice distorting into a howl.

The knot popped past my cervix entrance, locking us together. It was a feeling of absolute fullness, of being sealed shut. My inner muscles clamped down on him instinctively, spasming around the bulge.

Cum flooded me. It came in hot, powerful spurts, scalding my insides.

The sensation pushed me over the edge. I climaxed violently, my body seizing, the orgasm ripping through me at the exact moment my spine cracked and reshaped.

I howled. It wasn't a human scream anymore. It was a wolf's song.

We stayed like that, locked together on the stone altar, wracked by the aftershocks of pleasure and the violence of the shift.

Fur rippled across my skin—silver and soft. My face pushed out, bones grinding. My ears traveled up my skull.

Jax collapsed on top of me, his heavy weight pinning me. He shifted fully now, his human skin vanishing under a coat of midnight-black fur.

The knot held us. Even as wolves, we were joined.

Time fractured. I floated in a haze of sensory input. The smell of the pack—musk, arousal, earth. The sound of their howls rising to join ours. The taste of Jax's sweat still on my tongue, fading into the taste of the night air.

The moon bathed us in light. It felt like a benediction.

Slowly, the knot receded. Jax withdrew, a wet, slick sound.

He backed away, shaking his massive, furred body. He was huge—a nightmare of muscle and teeth, easily the size of a pony. His amber eyes fixed on me.

I rolled off the altar. My paws hit the grass.

I looked down at myself. Silver paws. Sharp, black claws. I felt light. Powerful. The pain was gone, replaced by a boundless energy that fizzed in my blood.

I shook myself, feeling the fur ripple along my spine. My tail flicked, testing the balance.

The wolf gazed out from my eyes. She was wild. She was free. But I was still in there, Lila, watching through the yellow lenses of my new eyes.

Jax let out a sharp bark. He lowered his front half in a play bow, then snapped his jaws in the air.

Run.

The command was telepathic, felt rather than heard.

He spun around and bolted into the trees.

I didn't hesitate. I launched myself after him.

The speed was intoxicating. I was a silver blur, weaving through the underbrush. I could smell everything—the beetle under the leaf, the squirrel trembling in the high branch, the distinct, pungent trail of a stag nearby.

We ran as one entity, the pack flowing around us like a river of shadow and fur.

The wind whipped through my coat. My paws pounded the earth, eating up the miles.

Jax took the lead, his black form melting into the shadows. I was right on his flank.

We found the stag in a clearing near the river. It froze, eyes wide with terror.

Jax didn't just kill it. He orchestrated it. He drove it left, straight toward me.

Instinct took over. I leaped, my powerful hind legs launching me into the air. My jaws opened, and I clamped down on the stag's throat.

Warmth exploded in my mouth. The metallic tang of fresh blood. The stag buckled.

Jax was there instantly, adding his weight to mine, bringing the beast down.

We feasted.

I tore into the raw meat, the hunger finally satisfied. It was gruesome. It was beautiful.

Later, as the moon began to dip toward the horizon, we returned to the clearing.

The shift back to human form was slower, less painful but exhausting. We collapsed onto the furs near the fire, a tangle of naked limbs and cooling sweat.

Jax pulled me into the shelter of his body. His hand stroked my hair, which was matted with leaves and dried blood.

"You did well," he whispered, his voice hoarse. "My silver wolf."

I nestled against his chest, listening to the slow, steady beat of his heart. The bond was solid now. I could feel him in the back of my mind—a warm, golden tether that connected us.

"I feel..." I searched for the word. "Whole."

He kissed the top of my head. "Rest. The night is done."

But as my eyes fluttered shut, a sound cut through the peaceful silence of the den.

A howl.

But it wasn't one of ours. It was distant, coming from the northern ridge. It was discordant, filled with malice and mockery.

Jax stiffened against me. His muscles coiled tight.

"Thorne," he growled, the vibration running through my own body.

I opened my eyes, the silver wolf inside me bristling. The ritual was over. The claiming was done.

Now, the war would begin.