Banished, a miserable fate

The calendar glared at me: June 8th. Two days until the moonhunt. My stomach churned. I sat in the grand room of my family home, the chandeliers casting a warm, almost magical glow, but I was too tense to appreciate it.

My dad, Grimsburg, was completely absorbed in some piece of metal, his collector's passion taking over. I'd just finished telling him about my unsettling conversation with Serbian.

My mom, Caroline, sat across from me, her eyes filled with concern. "You've been quiet, sweetie," she said gently.

I smiled, realizing I'd been lost in my own thoughts. "Just thinking, Mom."

"How was your day at the hospital?" I asked, knowing her work was often difficult.

"Not too bad," she sighed. "We had a couple brought in from a terrible accident in Cannal Hills."

"Oh no," I said, my heart sinking. "Was it bad?"

"Terrible," she confirmed. "They were in so much pain. We had to rush them to the ICU and give them strong painkillers."

My mom was a healer, a Sesame witch, and she carried the weight of her patients' suffering with her.

Suddenly, my dad's voice cut through the air, sharp with anger. "So, you're telling me my brother suspects you're seeing Kent?" He was clearly struggling to keep his temper in check.

"From my intuition, Dad. I feel he suspects that I might have been in contact with the Ironhearts"

"Well," Grimsburg dropped the artifact on the center table.

"...I will have to meet with him at the Le restaurant whenever I get the chance."

"Wouldn't you give him a call first? …" Mom queried.

"... I have never trusted that brother of yours since he became the leader of your pack a decade ago."

"I will," Grimsburg said. Walking out swiftly from the living room to the passage.

My mom and i were now left alone, a strange thoughtful silence between us.

"Caroline," my mom said, leaving her position and sitting close to me.

"Listen to me. Don't you, because of being Serbian, lose the feelings you have for Kent. For all I know, the young man honestly loves you, and I believe you love him too."

"I do, Mom."an ambiguous look on my face.

"…but I don't want to bring trouble to Dad or to you either."

"You won't, my love. "You won't," Mom patted my long red hair. She held me close to her shoulders.

"Just be who you are…THE LUNA OF THE FULL MOON. You have the abilities, and I know you would use them to fight your way through all this."

"Serbian and the others can't stop your love nor dim your light."

After a quality time spent, I left my parent's house and drove off to my apartment in the city. Feeling relieved and reassured that all was well.

***

MOONHUNT OF LYCANS

"Friends, family, children of the moon," Serbian's voice boomed from the top of White Rock, his presence radiating power and authority. "We gather tonight, as we always do, to witness the moonhun of this month."

Around the flickering campfire, fifty or so pack members stood, a mix of young and old, their faces etched with anticipation.

"But before we begin our hunt," Serbian continued, his voice heavy, "we must address a matter that has never before troubled our kind, a stain upon our history, a betrayal within our very ranks."

A ripple of unease spread through the crowd.

My father, Grimsburg, held my hand, his eyes filled with a sorrow he tried to hide behind a strained smile.

"Caroline Moonbolt," Serbian's voice cut through the night, my name echoing like a death knell.

My legs trembled as I stepped forward into the circle of firelight.

"You stand accused," Serbian roared, his eyes glowing with a terrifying red intensity, "of treason, of consorting with our enemies."

"Brother," Grimsburg pleaded, his voice thick with emotion. "With all respect, Caroline is your niece. You can't do this. She's innocent. She has nothing to do with the Ironhearts."

Serbian sneered. "Grimsburg, do you dare question my judgment? Are you calling me a liar before these witnesses?"

He gestured towards a shadowy figure.

My eyes, sharpened by my werewolf senses, recognized Lysterr, Serbian's illegitimate son.

Lysterr climbed onto the rock and handed his father a photograph.

"This," Serbian declared, holding up the picture, "was taken at the Chavalet, a restaurant in Lexington. And here..." he pointed at my face, captured in a snapshot, "...is Caroline, in deep conversation with Kent, son of Gregory, the Warlord of the Ironhearts."

A wave of shocked murmurs swept through the pack.

"Lysterr, my son," Serbian commanded, "pass this around. Let them all see the company she keeps."

Lysterr obeyed, the photo moving from hand to hand.

"You're making a mistake," Grimsburg shouted, lunging towards his brother, but two large men grabbed him, restraining him.

The picture confirmed their worst fears.

The sounds of disgust and the whispered accusations were like daggers to my heart. I had betrayed them.

"So," Serbian asked, his voice dripping with venom, "what punishment befits this betrayal?"

"BANISHMENT!" the pack roared in unison.

TRAITOR!

TAKE HER AWAY!

NEVER TO BE SEEN AGAIN!

BANISH HER!

Some spat at me as I knelt, tears streaming down my face. My father was held captive, his cries for help echoing in the night. My mother, miles away, was oblivious to the horror unfolding.

Serbian checked his watch. "It's almost midnight. The moon is rising."

"Caroline," he said, his voice cold, "you are hereby no longer considered as a member of the Silverfox pack. All ties are severed. You are now a fugitive, an outcast."

The pack erupted in a frenzy of condemnation.

"Silence!" Serbian's voice cracked like thunder. A hush fell over the crowd.

"On the rules guiding this pack, which include having an external affair with the Ironhearts, our sworn enemies. Caroline Moonbolt will face banishment.

You have three minutes," he continued, a cruel grin spreading across his face, "to run. Run for your life, before the moon is fully upon us."

I scrambled to my father's side. He was bruised and weak, barely conscious.

"Dad," I whispered, tears blurring my vision, "I'll come back for you. I promise."

The moon, finally free of the clouds, bathed the clearing in its silvery light.

"It's time," Serbian said, his eyes gleaming with malicious satisfaction.

Some of the pack members began to transform, their bodies shifting into their wolf forms.

Their transformation started from the hair of their heads to the soles of their feet. The agonizing transformation was accompanied by howls, deepened by the pain of crackling bones and limbs.

HOWL! HOWL!!! HOWL!!!

The lycans cried.

I took one last, desperate look at my father; feeling helpless, I fled into the darkness of the woods.