The moon hung on the sky, casting a glow on the forest. Trees looked exceptionally beautiful this night. The forest floor glowed of blue colour, all thanks to the moon. 

Outside the forest, humans, mostly adults, went about their businesses as if it was daybreak. The time was past 10 pm, and children would have been fast asleep if it weren't a weekend. 

 Among the persons that went about their businesses is a 6'2"  figure who had a cross bag on her shoulder. While most persons were headed towards buildings, her focus was the Longroove Forest. 

In her skinny jean and Harcket shirt and sneakers, she looked like every normal human being going about their businesses. Carefully glancing around to be sure no one was watching her or paying attention enough to notice that she was headed into the forest by that hour of the night, Anya quickened her pace. She was beginning to feel some little changes coursing through her vein. 

Certain that she was totally away from any form of gaze except that of the moon, she broke into a run, heading toward the entrance of the forest. As she ran her mind reminded her of what will happen and the consequences. She continued to run, struggling to push the sad memory away. 

It was not something she could control. As she tried to suppress it, it kept forcing itself into her conscious. She increased her speed, wishing that the cool breeze of the night takes it all away. 

Finally, she arrived at the entrance and decided to slow down to a walking pace, that was when she noticed it; tears. Unable to control her emotions, she finally let go and burst into cry. This life wasn't what she chose for herself. She never asked to be born this way. She never wanted to have to leave her house every full moon to hide away in the forest where she was sure no one would hear her growling. She never asked to be made a prey, hunted by humans who didn't understand how it was no fault of hers that she was born this way. 

After some minutes she stopped crying and wiped her tears. 

 Anya stood at the edge of the dense forest, her heart pounding in her chest as she gazed at the full moon hanging high in the sky. Its silvery light cascaded through the trees, casting enchanting shadows on the forest floor. For years, she had hidden her true identity as a werewolf, fearing the consequences of being discovered in a world that hunted and feared her kind. Every full moon, she made it a duty to leave her apartment to transform in the forest. That way she was sure not to be heard or seen or even hurt anyone. 

Since her first transformation at 18, she had been scared of one thing; hurting anyone in her wolf form. It's been 10 years since then and she had been able to keep to her words. Even though humans hunt them, she never for once wished any of them bad. She has come to see it as a lack of understanding between both parties. 

Finally ready to embrace her nature, she proceeded into the forest. Twigs snapping below her shoes, she walked to the cave where she usually stay for her transformation. Immediately she settled down and dropped her bag pack, she felt the sensation. 

Outside, the moon was at the centre of the sky, now full, casting a clearer glow down into forest. Anya took one look at the moon from the entrance of the cave and her breath caught in her throat, her senses sharpening as her werewolf instincts kicked in.

Her bones cracked and reshaped, her body contorting as fur sprouted from her skin. She tried to suppress the pain, to maintain control, but the primal force within her was unstoppable. In mere moments, Anya stood before the moon as a magnificent, fearsome creature—an all white werewolf. 

She pranced away from the cage entirely and began howling. Her call was returned after her second call-out. Within some minutes she was surrounded by other wolves and werewolves. It was her pack, headed by Vincent their alpha. He took charge and led them deeper into the forest where they usually hang out. 

Anya barely acknowledge other members of the pack. She just joined the crew and continued hunting.  She has never liked being a werewolf. She naturally do not rapport with her pack. She is stock with them because she can not be alone in this state and also because Vincent won't let her be. 

As if on queue Vincent slowed down for her to meet up with him. 

“How are you?” He asked, chekcing her out.  

“Fine,” replied Anya coldly. 

“You don't seem cheerful, are you alright?”

“Yes.”

“But you don't look it.”

“I am fine,’ Anya responded walking slowly to the other direction. 

She was never a fan of Vincent, but you can not do anything when the alpha of your pack takes special interest in you. You just must act the  the part of liking him, tolerate him or risk being attacked by him. 

After some minutes, Vincent ran up to her, holding a rabbit. “Bon appetite,” he said to her, dropping the bloody rabbit at her feet.  

“Thank you, but I am not hungry,” She responded, walking past the dead animal. Not you struggling to impress me, she thought. 

“Stop doing this. Stop trying to chase me away. Do you know how envious other females are of you?” Vincent complained. 

Stopping for some seconds to control the rage boiling in him, he continued. 

“I only have eyes for you. And I expect you to reciprocate that feeling. You are going to be the alpha's soulmate some day, you should begin to feel and act that part.”

Anya said nothing. That has been the speech she has heard for the past 10 years. Honestly, she was not interested in any role. She ad enough on her plate in her human life. Becoming the alpha's soulmate isn't something she was interested in, except that alpha was female, charming, intelligent, and smart. She knew she was safe to think what ever she wanted to think. But when she turned and glanced towards Vincent, he was standing on his hinges in a corner staring  at her. She couldn't make out what he was thinking because she hasn’t allowed him to connect to her telepathically. 

It is a werewolf thing for an alpha and his soulmate to connect, hear each others thought every time. Same also goes for others. Also, packs are meant to naturally link up telepathically, but Anya has not been able to do that with her pack for 10 years. 

At a point, some members of the pack thought she was a half a vampire. Anya herself doesn't really know what the cause may be. Even though she didn't like the idea of others hearing her thought, she had began to imagine that maybe something was actually wrong with her for not being able to connect with them and rapport like every member of the pack.

As she pondered on this, Annalise, the other female that had Vincent attention until the night of Anya’s turning came running to her. 

“Hey whitey!” She called out. 

“Hey browny,” Anya returned. 

“How have you been?”

“Good,” responded Anya with zero enthusiasm. 

“You don't look it, everything good? Kids giving you issues at school?”

“School is good, my pupils are good,” Anya responded lying on her belly. She was least interested in a company of anyone and would repreciate it if the rest of the pack could let her be. 

Unfortunately, Annalise didn't get the message, she never does. She came close and joined Anya on the ground, nudged her a little and innocently asked: “how iHowhe alpha soulmate preparing for her ascension?” 

Anya barely chuckled. “It is for the alpha to decide. I don't get to do that.” She responded, turning away from everything that reminded her of the night; hunting, the moon,  Vincent, and Annalise. 

“I need to sleep, I have a school thing tomorrow,”  she said to Annalise. 

“Okay whitey,” she responded, her voice soaked in rejection.  Standing, she turned and join the pack in hunting. 

Anya shut her eyes and willed her mind to sleep. And it happen happens was dreaming of being in school with her pupil. Classes were on. Her dream was all fine until she heard loud howling coming from different places and then total silence. She opened her eyes immediately and they fell on movements and then the first shot came tearing through the stillstillsphere. 

Hunters.