Chapter 5: The Moon Screams

The full moon clawed its way up through the clouds like a wounded god.

Rogue territory breathed around them: wet leaves whispering, shadows pulsing with life that didn’t belong to anything sane. The night itself felt alive, trembling under the weight of the swollen moon. Its pale light poured through the treetops in veins of silver, turning the forest into something cold and sentient.

Liana felt it before she saw it—an unnatural pressure against her skin, like invisible hands gripping every inch of her body. Her heart pounded faster, too loud. Her breath came shallow, restless.

Riven noticed instantly. He stopped, his eyes flicking up to the moon, then back to her.

“What’s happening?” she gasped, clutching her chest. “It feels wrong.”

“The full moon amplifies what’s hidden,” he said, voice low, edged in caution. “And what’s hidden inside you... doesn’t want to stay buried.”

She tried to speak, but a sharp burst of pain sliced through her ribs, stealing her breath. She stumbled forward, grabbing a tree for balance. Bark splintered under her grip. Beneath her skin, something moved—a ripple of heat, alive and furious.

“I can’t” She hissed through her teeth. “I can’t control it.”

The moonlight deepened, no longer silver but an eerie, pulsing white. Every sound in the forest vanished. No wind. No insects. No distant howls. Just the steady thrum of the moon’s light pressing harder, demanding something from her.

Riven was suddenly in front of her, his hand snapping around her wrist before she could fall. His touch burned, his scent—storm and iron—flooding her senses until the world tilted.

“Look at me,” he commanded.

Her eyes met his, and the world shattered.

The trees blurred into liquid shadow. Her heartbeat synced with the moon’s pull, too fast, too deep. Heat exploded across her back, her fingertips, her spine—as if her bones were being rearranged inside her flesh. She screamed, the sound raw and feral, echoing strangely in the hollow night.

Riven’s grip tightened. “Breathe, Liana. Don’t fight it.”

“What’s happening to me?” she choked out.

His jaw clenched. “You were never meant to be wolfless.”

Another wave of pain tore through her. She fell to her knees, trembling, palms digging into the dirt. Her vision fractured—bits of light, fragments of memory not her own: a forest drenched in gold, claws striking stone, eyes that burned like suns.

Something inside her roared.

Not a sound—more a vibration, a call she could feel in her blood. It wasn’t hers, yet it was.

Riven dropped beside her, one arm braced around her shoulders as her body convulsed. He hissed softly, a curse under his breath. “It’s too soon…”

She grasped his shirt with shaking hands. “Make it stop!”

“I can’t.” His voice softened, almost regretful. “It’s awakening.”

The world flickered again. The moon seemed to bleed, splitting into twin halos of light. Each breath became harder to pull. The scent of ozone filled the air, metallic and sharp, like electricity about to strike.

Liana’s nails dug into the ground. The earth trembled beneath her. “Awakening what?”

Before he could answer, the pain sharpened into clarity. For one impossible moment, the forest vanished. She was standing inside an endless night—stars burning above, the moon massive and too close, its glow spilling golden fire.

And then eyes.

Not hers. Not Riven’s.

They opened in that darkness—huge, molten black and gold, filled with an ancient intelligence that froze her thoughts. When they looked at her, it wasn’t curiosity. It was hunger.

Her body convulsed again. The scream that tore from her chest didn’t sound human.

Riven caught her before she hit the ground, his arms iron-strong around her. Even he looked shaken for the first time, his usual composed expression cracking.

“Impossible,” he muttered. “You shouldn’t be able to manifest without” He stopped himself, cutting the words away.

She clung to him, shaking uncontrollably. “Tell me!” she pleaded. “What is that? What’s inside me?”

Riven stared at her for a long moment before answering. The moon’s glow lit the lines of his face, turning his eyes into liquid amber.

“That’s not a wolf,” he said quietly. “It’s older. Stronger.”

Her breath hitched. “You said my wolf was stolen”

“It was.” His tone darkened. “But whoever did it… didn’t leave you empty. They left something else.”

The forest stirred again—shadows shifting in patterns that weren’t wind. Even the distant rogues kept their distance now.

Liana trembled. “Wh-what does that mean?”

“It means,” he said, gaze fixed on the treeline, “you were never meant to survive with it awake. It should’ve stayed quiet.”

Her pulse thundered, her head spinning. “You knew this could happen?”

“I suspected,” he admitted. “But I didn’t think the moon would call it out so soon.” His voice dropped to a near growl. “You’re unraveling something that shouldn’t exist.”

She pulled away from him in shock, wiping tears from her dirt-streaked face. “You’re not telling me everything, Riven! Why me? Why are you even helping me?”

Riven’s expression hardened, but his eyes betrayed a flicker of worry—a rare emotion for the man who terrified even rogues.

“Because,” he said finally, “if you lose control of what’s inside you tonight… the moon won’t be the only thing screaming.”

The ground shuddered underfoot as a blast of wind tore through the trees, the air thick with the pulse of something massive circling overhead—an unseen force answering the surge inside her.

Liana staggered, her gaze snapping upward. The moon burned brighter, impossibly close now, its light swallowing the woods.

Through the glare, she saw them again—those golden-black eyes—sharper, nearer, alive.

Her voice broke. “What are you?”

The answer came from everywhere at once, layered and echoing through her skull.

We are what they tried to bury.

Riven’s hand closed tight around her arm, dragging her back before the light could consume her completely. “Liana, look at me!”

Her vision flickered between him and those eyes, two worlds colliding.

“Riven” she gasped.

His jaw set, his tone low but urgent. “You’re not what they told you you are. Not a broken omega. Not even one of them.”

“Then what am I?”

He looked at her like a man standing on the edge of a secret too dangerous to speak.

“The reason the moon screams,” he said.

And somewhere above, the sky split open.