CHAPTER 1 THE NIGHT OF THE BLOOD MOON

CECELIA'S VIEW

"You all know the rules." 

The eldest's voice crackled across the square like a blow. Every she-wolf in the pack froze.

"Two minutes. That's all the time you'll get to run into the woods once the shot is fired. Then the wolves will be released. No one runs home. Anyone who tries to escape will be banished. I wish you all safety, may the moon goddess be with you, and above all, may you find your companions before dawn."

And that's exactly how the barbaric games began.

The girls whispered to each other about whom they had prayed to be chosen as their companion, but I heard nothing except the rushing of blood in my ears.

I was terrified.

Goddess, I wanted to run home.

But my body was too heavy for me to move fast enough. Not to mention that my aunt and cousin would kill me and call it an "accident" if I went home.

They had waited eighteen years for just such an opportunity.

The blows they had given me over the years had made me too intimidated to defend myself, but death would take care of that obstacle.

Yesterday I heard my aunt's family's lawyer say that my trust fund would mature in seven days and my aunt's family would finally be free of me. He said it as if I were a burden. As if I weren't the reason they had food, clothing, and a comfortable life. My mother's support had kept them alive since her death.

My aunt panicked. I heard her snarl at my cousin: "Get Conan's attention tonight, you have to be the next Luna. And Cecilia... if she gets a mate, we'll make it look like a hunting accident. The whole pack hates her anyway. Her mate will even be grateful for our help. Nobody will care."

Girls had already died during the blood moon, and she was right – no one would care if I died. Her plan was foolproof.

So my plan had to be better.

One of the few advantages of being called the "witch of the pack" was that most people simply left me alone.

With eyes as bright as mine – who could blame them? That's why I made the forest my refuge.

As a child, I was beaten so often by my aunt and ignored by the rest of the pack that the forest was the only place that didn't hurt me. There I learned to see better in the dark than any of them. There I learned to make oils so potent they could incapacitate even a she-wolf or a wolf.

Three years of work on poisons and various healing potions.

Potions I used to heal myself after my aunt beat me, and poisons I thought I would one day use to end my suffering.

Not today.

Today I just had to survive.

My plan was simple: to reach the biggest lemon tree in the forest and hide.

During the day, while every girl was probably saying goodbye to her boyfriend for the last time and every mother was praying to the moon goddess, I made my way from the lavender field to this tree. Lavender to mask my smell. Lemon to burn a wolf's eyes.

I had laid out a path to the largest lemon tree in the forest. I wasn't built for climbing. But I didn't need to be. If I kept to the correct wind direction, ten meters from the tree would be enough. Its fragrance would completely conceal me.

BANG!!

The shot.

All my senses screamed at me with just one single word.

Run!

I set off running, following the path I had memorized. Everyone else used their wolves. They stayed in open areas, testing the air with their sense of smell. I didn't have a wolf to help me. Just my feet and my plan.

My chest burned. People blurred past me, in all directions. If I slowed down, I was dead.

The lemon tree came into view. A thick trunk. Widely spreading branches.

I pulled out the lavender blanket I had secretly sewn and threw it over myself.

Foolproof.

But before I could rejoice, I heard it.

The howling.

It was bone-chilling. Inhuman.

The predators had been released.

The hunt had begun.

I buried my face in the blanket and prayed. To the moon goddess. To anyone who would listen.

"Please. I've had enough. I don't want a mate. I don't want any attachment to this place. If you're going to give me someone, then just let it be Apollo. He's the only nice person in this pack."

My breathing became calmer. I had to remain still. Had to remain hidden.

I heard howling and screaming.

Companions who found each other, girls who were marked – it would have been a beautiful moment if it hadn't been so utterly cruel.

I was just about to thank the moon goddess for making sure all this happened to the people who wanted it, and far away from me.

That's when I heard it.

Steps.

Heavy. Close.

A low growl made the ground beneath me vibrate.

I held my breath.

That's it.

I began to pray that the lavender would work, that the lemon would make his eyes water. Then I heard a soft whimper, and the footsteps moved away—quickly, away from me.

It took all my strength not to cry.

Wolves couldn't penetrate the scent of lavender. But if life had taught me anything, it was that they could smell weakness from a mile away.

I waited an hour just to make sure he was really gone.

I peeked out from under the blanket to check if the coast was clear.

That was the biggest mistake of my regrettably short eighteen years on this earth.

A wolf stood some distance away and watched me attentively.

Five feet high to the shoulder.

Light brown fur.

Eyes like liquid gold, shining with something that was far too knowing.

He hadn't left.

He had waited.

I rushed towards the tree.

Fear drove my body to heights I didn't know were possible. As I climbed, I calculated in my head how long I would have to stay up there until dawn.

Then I would finally be free.

But hope, as I had come to realize, is the downfall of a fool.

I lost my footing and fell.

All I could think was:

Good. At least my aunt doesn't have to kill me herself.

There was a strange comfort in having been able to decide on at least one part of my life myself.

Even if it meant my death.

I landed on something soft.

Warm.

The softest blanket in the world.

Nobody had told me that heaven would be so peaceful.

I was just enjoying the warm comfort that enveloped me when my body suddenly hit the ground.

He caught me.

And I was still alive.

The wolf sneezed violently and painfully. The lemon burned his eyes. Nevertheless, he had run off to rescue me.

With a trembling hand, I touched his head.

He nestled into the palm of my hand and rubbed his snout against my chest, as if he couldn't breathe without me.

My legs lifted off the ground.

I took a step back from him and was about to introduce myself, perhaps try to talk to him.

When I looked up, his eyes were no longer golden.

They became human.

And I saw it.

The gold transformed into an unforgettable hazelnut hue.

Conan.

"No," I whispered.

His wolf, Bjorn, surfaced.

And before I could scream, his teeth sank into my throat.