#2 Blood Moon Bonfire

Dee POV

I was halfway through taping my ribs when I heard it, footsteps echoing down the stone hallway outside my room. Heavy and purposeful. Laced with smugness. Never good. No one came down here unless they were looking for something to break.

I slowly lowered the roll of medical tape and sat up on the cot, bracing myself. I didn’t bother hiding the bruises. There was no point. The door creaked open with dramatic flair, and the stench of expensive perfume hit me before I even saw her.

Saria Bloodmark. Barely seventeen, all venom and lip gloss. She stood in the doorway like it was a crime to breathe my air. Her nose scrunched, and she visibly lifted her feet like the floor might reach up and stain her designer boots.

“Ugh. This place is even worse than I imagined. Do rats braid your hair down here, or do you just wake up tangled?”

I said nothing. She scanned the room with exaggerated disgust and actually shuddered. I popped my gum and leveled my gaze at her.

“What do you want, Saria? I’m not required to work right now.”

She grinned, sharp and cruel, the kind of smile that said I have power and I’m bored.

“Ah, but you are, mutt. I asked Mommy, and she said you’re to serve us drinks tonight at the Blood Moon Bonfire. Me, Kade, our friends, you’re our own little personal serving wench.”

I groaned, dragging both hands down my face. “Are you serious?”

She twirled a piece of hair and grinned wider. “Deadly. See you at eight, bitch. Oh, and wear your finest rags.”

Then she turned and walked out like she owned the world, not a single concern in that hollow little heart of hers. Her perfume lingered like a threat. I sat there for a long moment, staring at the cracked cement wall.

“Of all the fucking things,” I muttered.

Tonight. Of all nights. Midnight marked my eighteenth birthday. Which meant if the Moon had any mercy left, my wolf might actually show up, right in the middle of their little bonfire. That would go over real well.

I hugged myself, pressing my arms tight around my ribs, and tried to breathe through the ache. The physical pain was whatever. The rest? That was the hard part. Being paraded in front of the pack like a living joke. Again.

“Just one more time,” I whispered. “One last night, Dee. Serve the drinks. Smile through your teeth. Then run like hell.”

I checked the clock. 7:00 PM. One hour until showtime.

I pulled out my “uniform” from under the cot, a shredded burlap nightmare stitched together by the Luna herself. She’d called it “the perfect look for a servant slut.” It barely covered anything and itched like a curse.

I didn’t brush my hair. Didn’t put on makeup. Didn’t even try. They’d only mock me harder if I looked like I gave a damn.

I tugged on the burlap, scraped it into place, and gave myself one last look in the mirror. Hazel eyes, tired but unbroken. Full lips. Dirt-smudged skin. My dark chestnut hair was a tangled mess down to my waist. Still pretty, even when I tried not to be.

I sighed and opened the door. The walk to the bonfire pit took a full twenty minutes through the thick of the woods. I took my time. Each step was a breath, a blessing, and a goodbye.

The forest was alive that night, quiet but watching. The blood moon rose through the branches, bathing everything in silver-red light. The trees creaked gently like they were stretching. The air hummed.

I moved softly. Respectfully. “Hey old ones,” I whispered, brushing my fingers along the mossy trunk of a wide pine. “You doing okay tonight?”

The trees swayed slightly. I smiled. A pair of raccoons scurried across the path. I nodded to them like we were old friends. A fox peeked out from behind a log, and blinked at me. I winked.

A soft chirp sounded near my ear. I froze, then smiled. A bluebird landed gently on my shoulder, fluffing its feathers. I reached up and stroked its head with one finger.

“Hey there, beautiful. You staying out of trouble?”

It chirped again, three quick notes, then flitted off into the trees like it came just to say hi. The forest was the only place I ever felt safe and seen.

If I didn’t know better, I’d say it knew me too.

“Wish me luck,” I whispered to the trees. “One more shit show to survive.”

I stepped out of the tree line and saw the glow of torches in the distance. Laughter. Clinking glasses. Drums beating against the dirt.

The Blood Moon Bonfire had begun, and I was the main fucking entertainment.

The clearing glowed red under the blood moon, every flicker of torchlight painting shadows across the trees like twisted veins. The bonfire crackled at the center, massive, hot, and alive. It smelled like smoke, whiskey, and sweat.

And I hated it. Wolves from every high-ranking family were already there, heirs, alphas-in-training, betas, and gammas showing off like it mattered. Everyone was dressed in sleek black or blood red, all shining teeth and fake laughs.

I stepped into the firelight, and just like always, no one looked at me. They glanced, then dismissedme, like I was furniture. A shadow.

A piece of the background that existed solely to fetch drinks and absorb contempt. Good. The longer I stayed invisible, the easier this was.

I headed straight for the bar without a word. The bartender, a grumpy older gamma who wouldn’t even make eye contact, nodded at the prepped trays. I grabbed one and turned, holding it steady as I began my rounds.

Smile and serve, Dee. Stay quiet. Stay small. Just one more night.

The burlap dress scratched my thighs with every step. My ribs still ached from Kade’s earlier kick, but I didn’t wince. Wouldn’t give them that. My face was set, neutral and unreadable.

I moved through the crowd like fog, unseen until I was suddenly there, offering a glass with a bowed head and clipped tone. “Drink?”

Some took one without even acknowledging me. Some sneered. One guy, the future Beta of Ashridge, called me “sweetheart” and licked his lips. I walked away before I said something I’d regret.

They didn’t even realize they’d trained me to be silent. That I was only invisible because I wanted to be. I passed three of Saria’s little girlfriends, daughters of elite families, all giggles and glittering eyes. One of them called me a mutt under her breath. I didn’t flinch. Just handed her a glass and moved on.

I’d been serving these people since I was fifteen. Carrying their drinks. Cleaning their messes. Listening when they thought I was deaf. And I’d memorized everything.

Pack alliances. Smuggling routes. Who was fucking who. Who was paid to look the other way when a girl went missing.

All tucked away in my mind, like daggers waiting for the right moment to be thrown.

They thought I was beneath them. But I had enough dirt on this pack to bury it. I shifted the tray to my left hand and rolled out my shoulder, my eyes sweeping the perimeter. No sign of Kade or Saria yet. Probably taking their sweet time to make some over the top entrance. I could already hear their smug laughter in my head.

Just keep moving, Dee. Keep your head down. Serve the drinks. Count the hours. Midnight’s coming. My gum cracked between my teeth, cherry, faint, and familiar.

It was the only thing in this whole damn place that felt like mine.

I passed near the fire again, the heat kissing my skin like a warning. Wolves danced nearby, spinning in time with the drums. Some were already shifting, half-phase wolves with glowing eyes and flexing claws. They were showing off. Competing. Playing alpha.

Let them preen. I’d fought harder battles in the dark by myself.

A few more drinks passed out. More miles walked in this ragged excuse of a dress. The rope ties dug into my back. My arms were scratched and bruised and smudged with ash. But I walked tall. I served silently.

They didn’t know it was my birthday. They didn’t know I was counting every breath until midnight.

And they sure as hell didn’t know the girl in burlap was planning to vanish before the sun rose, taking every secret this pack had ever buried.

“You don’t get to own me anymore,” I thought as I handed off another drink.

Not after tonight.