Beneath the Moon's Gaze

Abbey's point of view.

The moon looked beautiful that night, glowing like a soft lantern in the vast dark sky. Its silvery light spilled over the clearing, bathing the world in a calm hue that almost managed to soothe the chaos clawing at my chest. For a fleeting moment, I let it comfort me. I dragged the back of my hand across my face, trying to rub away the sleep clinging to my swollen eyes. My tears had dried hours ago, long after Jeremy stormed out of the pack house.

The journey back to his house had been cloaked in silence. I had tried—tried until my throat burned—to reason with him, to plead through my tears, but every word fell on deaf ears. He had offered nothing in return, no reassurance, no softness. Just the slam of a door, the click of a lock, and the presence of guards outside my window to remind me that I wasn’t free.

At first, sadness crushed me. But as the hours dragged on, sadness hardened into fury. Rage that this was how he handled conflict—by shutting me out, by sh