MOONSHADOW

 CENTURIES LATER

 LYRA POV

The moon illuminated the night sky, bathing the outskirts of Blackwood in a pale glow. The place that had once been my home. A peaceful haven for werewolves, but now it was a battlefield of endless wars. The war between the clans had destroyed the tranquillity of our town, and I could hear the feral growls echoing through the air, a sharp reminder of the violence that plagued us.

Anxiety thrummed in my veins as I skulked through the darkness and atop a cliff, I perched myself overlooking the battlefield below. My name is Lyra, but I am also known as Moonshadow, a name I earned through years of training learning to be silent and unseen like a phantasm, setting traps with the moonlight at my back, planning out strategic manoeuvres that would take our enemies by surprise. I am a small wolf, and my small stature is no match for the beasts that surrounded me. I had to work to hone my skills in the art of elusiveness, swiftness and cunning to keep us safe.

I, the smallest and least powerful of all, inherited the Alpha mantle of the Nightfall pack from my brave father. Fate had cruelly taken him and my brother from us in the war. Their loss still fresh in the hearts of every member of the Nightfall pack. It served as a constant reminder that we were not safe from the enemy—the Bloodmoon Pack, led by their alpha, Fenrir, they sought to expand their territory and had caused us immense amounts of pain and sorrow.

The weight of the duty is almost unbearable, threatening to crush me and shake my confidence. Every decision I make could mean life or death for my pack members. Each battle brought more losses and emotional scars that seems never-ending, and I could feel the looming war in every breath I took and every step I walked. We had been through so much suffering and heartache as a pack; it was a burden that none of us should have ever had to carry. We fought for survival against a foe that too often seemed unbeatable.

My gaze flickered across the landscape, an endless ebony sea with only death in its depths. The Bloodmoon Pack had superior numbers and brute strength, but we had the advantage of agility, stealth, and craftiness in our corner. I knew I had to play to our strengths and exploit the weaknesses of our enemies. Sergeant Cole my trusted advisor, and a veteran warrior joined me at my side. His towering presence shone like a beacon of hope in a world of despair. His sturdy build and scarred skin demonstrated his physical power and fortitude. His control over each situation that he found himself in earned him admiration from everyone that crossed his path.

"Moonshadow," his stern voice cut through the silence "We don't have much time, the Bloodmoon pack is closing in on us."

I nodded as my thoughts raced ahead of me. I knew that we could not risk engaging them head on—we were outnumbered and outmatched. With any luck, our agility and stealth might give us the edge we needed.

"We can use guerrilla tactics," I suggested, surveying the terrain for potential traps, and hiding spots. "Set up traps along the tree line and ambush them when they least expect it." my gaze resting on Sergeant Cole who nodded in agreement. 

A plan formed quickly in my head as I reached out to my allies through a mind link―a small but skilled group of werewolves who had been loyal since I became Alpha. "Let's move quickly and get into position."

My body began to contort and shift until I was no longer human. My senses heightened, and I could smell the earthy scent of the forest floor, hear the rustling of leaves, and feel the soft fur bristling on my back and together with the pack, we navigated the dense underbrush, setting up traps with lethal precision. The air was pulsing with tension as our pack moved like lightning, concealing our presence like shadows in the night, our eyes alert, and senses hyper-aware. I could feel the impending battle pressing on my chest like a weight, my heart pounding wildly in anticipation of the dangerous conflict that lay ahead.

Sergeant Cole was still by my side, offering me a silent nod of assurance, his experience and unending loyalty providing a source of comfort for me to. We exchanged a brief glance, and I could read him like an open book; we shared an understanding without words.

The sound of footsteps alerted us to their presence, and we held our breath. The Bloodmoon Pack emerged from the shadows, growling, and snarling with feral rage that reverberated around us, sending shivers down my spine. I crouched low, my muscles tensed like steel springs ready to fire, awaiting the perfect moment.

"NOW!" I mind linked to my pack, and we exploded into action in perfect harmony. Our traps snapped closed like bear traps catching the enemy off-guard and throwing them into chaos. We burst forward with savage speed and power, swooping in where they least expected us, attacking any weaknesses presented in their formation.

Claws sliced through the air and teeth gnashed as we fought ferociously, our coordinated movements swift and precise like an unstoppable machine. The screams of agony emanating from the Bloodmoon Pack grew ever louder as our surprise ambush threw them off balance. We pushed forward with relentless eagerness, driving them further back towards oblivion, but they fought back just as viciously. Everywhere I looked there was carnage - blood dripping from wounds, sweat lacing the very air itself - but I kept going despite my aching body and shortening breath. Fuelled by determination and adrenaline.

My gaze shifted to Fenrir, the rival alpha leading the pack. His large figure loomed menacingly over our battlefield - a dark-furred wolf with eyes burning with hatred. Enraged by his presence, my sorrow and anger burst from within in an unstoppable wave of emotion. The aching memories of my family and pack members lifeless bodies laid out before me, igniting my inner flame hotter than any blaze. My heart clenched tight in grief, yet hardened like steel at the same time, urging me on to take revenge for their murders. Nothing could quench this unyielding resolve.

A fierce growl escaped from my throat an unrelenting challenge to my adversary. Fenrir's eyes widened in shock, caught off guard by my sudden appearance. I moved with lightning speed; my senses heightened to their maximum potential. The scent of blood laced the air and snarls and cries of pain echoed around us. My chest tightened with rage as adrenaline rushed through me, fuelling my movements.

Fenrir barrelled towards me, his hulking frame bearing down on me with brute force. I nimbly dodged his attack, my body darting out of reach with ease. I struck back swiftly and powerfully, aiming for vulnerable spots; my claws and teeth bared like blades. We circled each other, a deadly ballet of predator and prey. His size was intimidating but I trusted in my agility, weaving in and out of his reach using my smaller size to my advantage.

"Moonshadow!" Sergeant Cole's urgent voice broke through my concentration "We need to retreat now! There are too many injured!"

I heard Cole's warning but refused to yield; all I could see were memories of fallen family members rushing through me, pushing me forward with unyielding determination.

Fenrir charged at me with all his might, his earth-shattering growl almost deafening. I narrowly dodged the strike, feeling the heat from his razor-sharp claws grazing my neck.

Again, Sergeant Cole's words broke into my mind like an echoing thunderclap telling me we must retreat. The battlefield had become too dangerous for us to stay any longer, and our packmates needed help. With a last fierce look at Fenrir, I reluctantly turned away and ran into the safety of the trees, transporting the furious war cries of the combatants with me until they faded out entirely.