The Full-Moon Gathering That Changed Everything**

Elara's POV

I really didn't want to go. But the venomous poison seeping through every second of that week had Selene's voice saying, “Don't you dare make me look bad, Elara! Try to act like you belong, even though we both know you don't.”

And where exactly was it I didn't belong?

A power gathering: silk pelts and tailored hides all blurred together in suffocating moonbloom scent. I sipped on my spritzer and willed myself into the wallpaper. Invisible, as every other time. Until him.

Darius Blackthorn.

Everyone was a subject for entertainment, whether sober or drunk—a bright pyre was raised for fire and ruin—somehow gloriously intoxicated. And I was the subject for she-wolf’s brutality. Joy and wild sparkle in those golden eyes locked on me, as everyone bullied me till I was allowed to hide in the corner.

Then he appeared again.

I could almost see the smirk on his drunk and flushed face. I could faintly smell the whiff of whiskey mingling within that, with the gravitating weight of his palm pressing into the small of my back.

Somewhere deep down, I was aware that I should turn around and walk away. I should bid him farewell knowing that I was nothing more than a pathetic punchline to Darius Blackthorn.

But I didn't.

Whats even worse… I gave in to every little thing he did to me, and I wanted it all.

Starting with the kiss…oh the kiss.

He ruined me with that kiss; whispers came surging forth, slurred and lustful half-heartedly, as the world faded into shadows and gold lights, with each heartbeat mocking my ever-growing desperation as I cluelessly realized that I was committing the biggest blunder of my life. But God, how glorious it felt to have him inside of me! I have been a complete wallflower. Inside of me... With the pack's alpha heir!

And that very morning, he had not even bothered to glance in my direction as if I was a nonentity. Now, I am very distant from less than a person who had matters.

Now, with everything else against him, there lies an added bitterness to my already existing ill feeling.

—

"Elara."

The low whistle from him yanked me back into the present. I blinked furiously. The Blackthorn den was dripping away with blinding fluorescent lights onto the academy courtyard. In front of me was Finn, worry written all over his handsome face, arms crossed over his chest.

"Zoned out again," he said softly. "You've been since the gathering. What the hell is going on?"

Somewhere in my throat, the words caught. "Nothing. I'm fine."

Finn raised one perfect eyebrow, unconvinced. "Fine? You look half the time like you might faint. Pale and distracted: and don't think I haven't noticed you skipping meals. So what's really going on?"

"I told you I'm fine," I reiterated, a little too quickly, clutching my notebook to my chest as though it were a shield against his scrutiny.

But Finn was Finn: my best friend, my ballast—and I had never, ever gotten away with a lie in front of him. He sighed dramatically, rolling his eyes, and, without further ado, seized my wrist.

"Come."

"Finn—"

"Nope," he said, surprisingly firmly pulling my wrist along. "Healer’s den. Now."

"Really, Finn—"

"Yes," he said with finality.

Thus did Finn drag me across the grounds till we reached the white, sterile doors of the academy healer's center, my far-from-desperate protests left unheard.

—

The waiting room smells faintly of antiseptic and fear. I sat stiffly in one of those annoying hard plastic chairs, my knees drumming away while Finn paced like a beta wolf out to hunt.

"You'll be thanking me later," he grumbled, shooting me a glare for shifting. "Stop martyring yourself. It's just a check-up."

Uncompromisingly, this innuendo of unease had been at odds with feelings of fatigue and nausea that I brushed away as just an aggravation for weeks now.

Eventually, Elder Mira ushered us in; her tired eyes brighten on seeing us. While Finn calmly went through the list of all my symptoms—and of course he did, because I couldn't seem to utter a single word—she took notes, asked questions and nodded through it all, all business.

"We're going to run some tests," she said softly, smiling that reassuring smile. "Nothing too serious is expected. We'll know more once the results are back."

I numbly nodded, twisting the edge of my sleeve.

Finn stayed with me during my blood work and while my vital signs were checked, joking that I should have gotten an Oscar for my pallid and dramatic performance, which did coax a faint laugh from me amid the rising tide of dread in my heart.

—

And then, the infamous waiting.

Everything felt too small under the bright stare of humiliation coming from the corners of the small consult room. Finn was on edge sitting on the edge of his chair while I was stiffly stuck at attention, staring at the clock, its each tick slamming against my nerves.

What if something was wrong? What if the changes I had been ignoring were not just in my head?

Unwillingly, the memories stirred up: the reckless kiss, the whispered laughter, Darius's hands tangled in my hair. It suddenly felt like I yearned to be somebody different—finishing off the last epoch for feeling just once—not invisible.

But the memories twisted themselves into my inflamed mind cruelly. What if that night had some truly undesired consequence that I was totally unprepared for?

A quiet click interrupted the silence as Elder Mira entered holding a folder against her chest. Her eyes were calm, but something about them made my stomach drop.

The pace of Finn's restless pacing came to an abrupt halt; his hand found my shoulder, as if he too felt the great weight of that moment.

"The test results are back," Elder Mira stated flatly.

My throat tightened and forced out the words, "What..what's the result?"