THE LUNA'S ECLIPSE

The Nightveil Pack bustled with activity as preparations for the harsh winter pressed on. Valeria, only eight years old, skipped along the well-worn paths of the pack’s territory, her breath visible in the crisp air. The adults moved with purpose, hauling bundles of firewood, sacks of dried herbs, and crates filled with preserved meat. The sky above was an icy blue, the promise of snow lingering on the horizon.

From the center of the pack’s courtyard, her father, Alpha Cedric, stood tall and commanding, his voice steady as he issued orders. “Ensure the food is stored securely, and double-check the insulation in the dens. We can’t afford to lose anything to frost or scavengers. Mason, how’s the inventory coming along?”

Beta Mason, a stout man with a weathered face and kind eyes, glanced at the parchment in his hands. “We’re short on blankets and a few essential herbs, Alpha. I’ll send a team to the forest edge to gather what we can before the heavy snow sets in.”

Valeria watched her father nod and continue directing the pack. She admired the way he carried himself—strong and capable, always putting the pack’s needs above his own. Determined to be just as helpful, she carried small bundles of wood to the storage shed, her tiny arms straining but her spirit unwavering.

“Good work, Valeria,” her father said with a proud smile when she returned for another load. “Your effort makes a difference, my little wolf.”

Her cheeks flushed with pride at his words.

Not far away, her mother, Elara, watched from the large window of the packhouse. Her hands rested gently on her swollen belly, a soft smile playing on her lips as she observed her daughter and husband. Though she yearned to be out there with them, lending her own strength to the pack’s efforts, the late stages of her pregnancy kept her confined. Still, she found solace in watching her family work together.

“Be careful, Valeria,” Elara called softly through the open window. “Don’t overdo it, my love.”

“I won’t, Mama!” Valeria called back with a grin. But her mother’s words weren’t necessary. Unlike others, Valeria didn’t feel the cold the same way. She didn’t need the thick coats or scarves the other wolves wrapped themselves in. Her simple jumpsuit was enough to keep her comfortable, even as the wind nipped at her rosy cheeks. It wasn’t something she thought much about, but she noticed the way others sometimes glanced at her with confusion or unease.

“Isn’t she cold?” one of the older warriors murmured to another as they passed by, bundled in heavy cloaks.

“That child…she’s something else,” the other replied, shaking his head.

But Valeria ignored the whispers. She had too much to do to dwell on their curiosity. She ran to the storage shed, where Beta Mason was now overseeing the stacking of crates.

“Uncle Mason,” she piped up, tugging at the edge of his coat. “Do we need anything else? I can help!”

Mason knelt down to her level, smiling warmly. “You’ve done plenty already, Valeria. But if you’re still full of energy, why don’t you check on the pups in the nursery? They could use a helping hand keeping the little ones entertained.”

She hesitated, glancing at her father, who gave her a nod of approval. “Go ahead, little one. The pups will be glad to see you.”

Valeria dashed off, her jumpsuit fluttering behind her as she headed toward the nursery. She felt a flicker of warmth in her chest, not from the exertion but from the sense of belonging and purpose. Even at her young age, she was determined to make her mark in the pack, to prove she was more than just a child.

Inside the packhouse, Elara watched her daughter with a mix of pride and worry. “She has such a strong spirit,” she murmured to herself.

*******

That evening, as Valeria helped her mother tidy up the packhouse, a sudden, sharp alarm pierced her mind. Wolves of the Nightveil Pack howled and growled through the mind link, their voices urgent and filled with panic. Valeria, too young to have gained her wolf, could only see the fear on her mother’s face as she clutched her swollen belly.

“Valeria, run! Hide!” Elara whispered harshly, her voice trembling. She grabbed her daughter by the shoulders, urgency written all over her face.

“What’s happening, Mama?” Valeria asked, her voice shaky. She had never seen her mother like this before.

“The pack is under attack. Go, now! Find a safe place and don’t come out until it’s over!” Elara’s voice cracked as she pushed Valeria toward the hidden storage beneath the stairs.

“But, Mama—”

“No!” Elara interrupted, her tone sharp. She softened, cupping Valeria’s face with trembling hands. “I love you, my little wolf. Be brave, like your father.”

Valeria obeyed, darting into the cramped space and pulling the door shut. She hugged her knees to her chest, her small frame trembling as she listened to the chaos unfolding outside. Screams, howls, and the clash of wolves in battle filled the air, growing louder and more desperate with each passing second.

But her hiding place offered no sanctuary. A pair of strong hands yanked the door open, and before she could scream, Valeria was dragged out into the freezing night. The cold bit at her skin, but it was nothing compared to the icy fear that gripped her heart as she was brought before a towering, unfamiliar Alpha. His dark eyes glinted with malice as he looked down at her.

She glanced around, and her breath hitched at the sight of bodies strewn across the ground. Among them lay her parents—her father’s strong form lifeless beside her mother’s, who still clutched her belly protectively. Tears streamed down Valeria’s face as she choked on a sob, her world shattered in an instant.

The enemy Alpha sneered, his voice cruel and commanding. “Spare the pups. They’ll serve as slaves. Their time will come when they’re old enough to fight.”

With that, Valeria and the other surviving children were roughly rounded up, their lives as members of the Nightveil Pack over in the blink of an eye.

This was the beginning of her nightmare—a life of servitude and loss, where survival was the only goal and hope seemed like a distant dream.