The person does not survive despite all of Jordan's efforts. By the time Jordan pulls the person out of the water, the sun has hidden behind the horizon, completely covering the beach in a sinister darkness. His grey sweatpants are drenched completely, and the person in his arms is dead, his limp arms swaying with each of Jordan's clumsy steps over the wet sand. I know it the moment I see the body, pale and unmoving, but the Alpha still clings onto the little hope he has. He can probably still hear his heartbeat. We rush without a moment's hesitation to Jordan's mom's clinic, which fortunately isn't far away from the Haunted Beach and is empty when we step in. The middle-aged woman panics when we enter but regains herself immediately and soon confirms my belief. Jordan slumps into a chair with a frown, hissing as he touches the exposed skin of the neck that is painted red with blood. Only when my eyes examine Jordan's red hoodie properly do I realize it is covered in blood too. Then

I tap my feet on the sand beneath me as my eyes gaze around, squinting in the bright sunlight. With every passing moment, my feet tap more vigorously against the sandy floor, the print of my sole becoming more prominent. Patience trickles out of me swiftly, and my two friends are nowhere to be seen. I pull out my cell phone and check whether Niall has responded yet, but there's nothing. I grow restless, until I decide there's no other way to go. I have to attend the class. At the classroom door, I clear my throat, grabbing my teacher's attention as she turns sharply towards me, startled. "May I come in?" I ask, as politely as I can under my current situation. For a moment, Mrs. Robinson stands frozen, her eyes wide with confusion. Then her lips curl into the most taunting of smiles, one reserved especially for me. "How kind of you to finally join us, Miss Martin. Please, do come in." I'm staggered when I see Riley isn't present in the class. She never misses any class. She's probab

Cole's brown eyes stare back at me, equally widened in shock. When I realize he isn't breathing, I get to my feet in an instant, relieving him of the weight on his chest. Cole huffs and struggles to lift himself up for a moment, but when I offer my hand in support, he shakes his head. With wobbly knees, he stands up and gives out a weary sigh. "Are you okay? I'm so sorry. I thought you were—" "Nessa!" A voice calls from behind, cutting me off. Jordan jogs up to me, his lips tilted into a half-smile. "Nothing to worry about. Only a bunch of tourists..." Jordan's voice trails off when his eyes find Cole. I purse my lips, feeling guilty for my action, and settle my eyes on Cole again. "As I was saying, I'm sorry. I thought you were going to attack me." Cole sighs again and runs his hand through his light hair, brushing off any dry leaves and twigs that had stuck in it. He places his hands on his hips and smiles, still breathing loudly. "No one should dare attack you, I think. After be

Although at first, it seemed like a bad idea to me—and it probably was—I end up inviting Jordan out of curiosity. I want to know how he will react. The Silver Crescent pack gathers once every month at Luna's temple to celebrate Crescent night, for a blissful period filled with music, laughter, delightful food, and chaos of all kinds. My mother would be there along with my grandma, the only time the old lady ever chooses to leave her bed. Usually, I would be at the center, organizing the monthly event along with my packmates. But this time, my attention has been carried away by other concerning things. As far as I know, no one from the Blood Moon pack has attended a Crescent celebration over the last few decades. I can guess the general reaction, however, I care little about that. If the packs knew what was going on in Bellpond, they would choose to stick together. At least that is what I believe. Also, I want to spend some more time with Jordan. Being around him feels nice. I have g

Jordan shakes his head and lowers his eyes to his feet. “I swear it's just the dress you’re wearing,” he claims. “I’ve been told that.” I want to know what he is really thinking. If I had shifted, I would sense his mood. I would have some idea if he is really being truthful. What if I am feeling all of this and none of it is genuine? And that thought has done it. It has managed to ruin the rest of my night. I move away from him, not too much for I do not want to make him feel any worse. But being too close without knowing clearly what he wants is not an option. I look at the night sky, how dark and beautiful it still is. My grandma always says she believes a Crescent night to be brighter than a full moon. It makes no sense but I know why she would say that. My thoughts linger and the words from my mouth are, “I’m not all good, Jordan. I do stupid things sometimes.” “Who doesn’t?” His tone is easy. Maybe I had expected something else. Maybe he is not looking at me to know I am