Something about a dead rat

Scanning my wardrobe for a few seconds, I choose a crimson-colored tube top and a short pleated skirt.

I smile at my reflection in the mirror after putting it on.

I apply mascara, eyeliner, pink gloss, then pull my hair up into a messy bun.

Sitting on my bed, I slip on my favorite pair of black sneakers before grabbing my woolen cardigan and the bag containing my tulle dress.

I storm down the stairs, only to stop when I find Mum in the living room.

I wasn’t expecting her to be home at this time. Not when today is the first day of the Festival of the Blue Moon.

“Mum? Is everything okay?” I ask, stepping fully into the room.

She smiles and nods, her face pale with exhaustion.

I don’t believe her, but asking would get me nowhere.

Things aren’t okay. They haven’t been for a while. But she’s always trying to hold it together, trying to smile brighter every time something cracks beneath us.

I’ve come to know her even more than I know myself over the years, and I can tell something else has gone wrong recently — though she and Dad refuse to tell Talia and me.

“What did the doctors say?”

Her smile wanes.

Rafe has become such a touchy subject. I know it, but I can’t help asking.

“Nothing’s changed,” she says, her voice thick. She clears her throat and adds quickly, “But at least that’s better than things getting worse.”

I study her for a moment.

“Where’s Dad?” I glance at the piles of files and documents spread across the table while I wait for her reply.

“He’s out with Alpha Sirius. They had some last-minute discussions before the events.” She rubs her thumb and index finger against her temples.

We’re both silent for a moment.

“What are you doing?”

She looks up as if only just realizing I’m still there.

“Oh, I’m just finishing up here. Don’t worry about it.”

I nod.

“Take it easy, okay? You’ve got to take a break when you’re done with this,” I say, gesturing to the files.

“I promise.”

I hesitate.

“Happy Blessed Moon, Mum.” I press a peck to her left cheek.

She seems slightly startled before turning and smiling up at me.

“Happy Blessed Moon, my special girl.”

I smile at the term of endearment before turning and leaving.

*****

I’m probably late now.

I rush into the stall. Talia is doing her best to sell as quickly as she can to the crowd gathered in front of us.

She turns, frowning. “You’re late.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I had to make a quick stop.”

“You’re making quick stops while I’m stuck trying to placate this heavy crowd?”

“Sorry.” I take the space beside her and begin helping immediately.

I’d stopped by Cole’s place before coming here, hoping he might coincidentally be home.

He wasn’t.

Being the park Gamma, the festival preparations has left him busier than most of his peers. I guess he didn’t have enough time to spare.

It takes a while, but we eventually finish attending to the customers.

By six-thirty, Talia leaves the stall to find Mum and Dad.

Part of the festival’s tradition is opening the first day of the Blue Moon with a walk down the aisle of the makeshift market by the Alpha’s family, followed by the Betas, then the Gammas, and finally the Deltas.

I remember the day I realized it was unfair that I didn’t get to walk with my family during the opening.

I was seven.

Back then, I hadn’t understood the full ramifications of being different. Damon had teased me, saying I was just a weak, lowly human and that’s why I wasn’t fit to walk behind his strong, powerful father.

I’d run home, barely finding my way, and sobbed into my pillow.

The next day, I put a dead rat in Damon’s shoe when we went to the park house — where the Alpha and his family live — during the second day of the festival. I heard his high-pitched shriek from across the hallway, and a smile spread across my face immediately.

Good times.

Although the very next day he had his friends break my flute while he laughed and I cried, it was still worth it.

I watch everyone bow their heads in respect as the Alpha passes, Damon and his younger sister, Rhoda following close behind.

I don’t really know Rhoda as I know Damon — we don’t usually speak during Tule rehearsals — but for the sake of the poor members of the park, I like to think she’s nothing like her brother.

Mum and Dad, with Talia between them, follow next.

I can’t help thinking how Rafe would have been out there too if he wasn’t in the hospital.

He would’ve been part of the team putting up the festival structures. He’s an engineer. A very good one.

I wave at Mum and Dad. Dad doesn’t see me, but Mum gives me a sad smile.

She probably thinks I still feel as bad as I did the night she found me crying after what Damon said.

I do feel ostracized. Always have. Always will.

But I’m not going to cry about it. Not if it means she worries.

Cole walks behind them. Unlike everyone else, he isn’t facing forward. He scans the crowd near the stalls, and when he spots me, he winks.

A couple of girls beside me think it’s meant for them. They giggle and fan themselves.

I roll my eyes at him with a small smile and wave.

Behind Cole are the Delta pair — Delta Carter and his mate, Rosa. Between them are their two children, Rachael and Darren. Also known as: ass-kissers.

When the Alpha and his companions reach the dais in the center of the square, everyone shifts toward the surrounding platforms.

Seats are arranged around the dais, but no one sits. Not yet.

The Alpha begins his opening speech — something about the reason for the festivities, the meaning and significance of the Blue Moon. His voice rises and falls, blending with the murmur of the crowd.

There are so many people out here. I can't find where the crowd ends or begin, but somehow his voice saturates the entirety of the arena.

The torchlight flickers gold against polished silver. The moon hangs swollen and luminous above us.

But I’m too busy imagining what it would feel like to stand on that dais beside Mum and Dad.

“—Happy Blessed Moon to you all. May the festivities begin.”

The Alpha raises a silver chalice toward the rising moon, its light catching on the engraved crescent along its rim. A ceremonial torch is lit at the center of the dais, flames dancing gold and blue in the cool night air.

One by one — Alpha Sirius, then then Mum and Dad, then Cole and finally the Deltas — place their hands over their hearts in silent pledge to the Moon Goddess. The crowd follows.

A low, unified howl rises from the wolves, rolling across the square like distant thunder.

The torches flare brighter.

The festival is officially alive.

The Alphas, Betas, Gammas, and Deltas take their designated seats on the slightly raised platform at the front.

The performances begins almost immediately.

The younger children go first, their laughter bright as they reenact the first blessing of the Moon Goddess with painted cheeks and oversized props. After them come the warriors, demonstrating controlled strength in choreographed sparring that earns cheers from the crowd.

Then the Moon Goddess play — the chosen girl draped in silver silk, luminous beneath lantern light as she delivers her lines.

As the evening deepens, the performances grow slower. Heavier.

Music shifts. Drums soften.

I weave through the crowd to change and join the girls for the tulle dance.

“The human looks kinda hot today,” Darren whistles.

I look hot every day, thank you very much.

I ignore him and keep walking, hoping to find a more crowded path.

He follows.

“I’m speaking to you, human.”

“And I’m not speaking to you, Darren.”

He grabs my wrist and spins me around.

I yelp.

His claws press into my skin — not deep enough to draw blood, but enough to sting.

“You were saying?” he asks, his voice dripping with venom.

“Darren, let go of me,” I say, my annoyance creeping into my voice.

Darren was the worst of Damon's friends. He was such a Domon worshiper that he took disliking me as a symbol of loyalty to his master.

“Or what?”

He steps closer. Too close.

Then he snatches the tulle dress from my other arm.

There’s a sharp ripping sound.

Time seems to split with it.

I screech.

“What have you done?” I shout.

A few people turn toward us.

Darren releases my wrist immediately, dropping the dress to the ground as if it means nothing.

I fall to my knees and grab it.

The fabric is torn clean through.

“You just ruined it.”

“Stop yelling,” he mutters.

“You just ruined my dress.” My voice shakes despite my effort. “Did he send you to do this?”

“Did Damon put you up to this, you ass licking hooligan?”

Darren glances around, noticing the attention we’re drawing, face red with anger from my insult.

He looks down at me with hatred. Then turns and walks away.

I stare at the damage, fingers trembling as I examine the torn layers.

The silver threads hang loose against my hands.

A tear slides down my cheek.

It’s ruined.