When The Moon Chose Me

My uncle's voice cut through the house like a blade.

"Ethan," he called again, slower this time. "I know you're awake."

Maya's hand closed around my wrist. Her fingers were cold, but the contact sent a jolt through me-sharp, grounding. Her eyes pleaded with me to stay put, to let her handle this.

I gently pulled free.

"No," I whispered. "This is my mess."

I stood, every nerve in my body buzzing. The moment my feet touched the floor, the room seemed to sharpen around me. I could hear my uncle's boots shifting in the hallway. I could smell him-smoke, rain, and something old. Familiar.

That scared me.

I opened the door before he could knock again.

He stood there with his shoulders tense, his jacket still damp from the morning fog. His eyes locked onto mine, and something in his expression broke-relief, fear, and guilt crashing together.

"You changed," he said quietly.

Maya sucked in a breath behind me.

"What are you talking about?" I demanded, even though part of me already knew.

My uncle stepped inside and shut the door, turning the lock with a deliberate click. He looked at Maya then, really looked at her, and his jaw tightened.

"So," he said. "They finally told you."

"Told me enough," Maya replied coolly. "Not everything."

His gaze returned to me, heavy. "Ethan, sit down."

I didn't.

"Tell me why I woke up covered in someone else's blood," I said. "Tell me why I hear things I shouldn't and smell fear on people. Tell me why the moon feels like it owns me."

The silence that followed was unbearable.

My uncle ran a hand through his graying hair. "Because you're a werewolf," he said at last. "And last night, your bloodline woke up."

The word hit me harder than any punch.

Werewolf.

I laughed once, hollow. "That's not funny."

"I'm not joking."

Maya stepped closer to me. I felt her presence like a shield, and that terrified me even more. If this was real-if I was dangerous-she shouldn't be anywhere near me.

"How long have you known?" I asked him.

"Since the day your parents died," he said.

The room tilted.

"You promised me that was an accident," I said, my voice breaking.

"It was," he said quickly. "But not the kind you think."

Images flashed through my mind-sirens, rain, twisted metal, blood on glass. I'd been ten. I'd never asked too many questions.

"You carry your father's blood," my uncle continued. "He was an alpha. Strong. Respected. And hunted."

"Hunted by who?" I asked.

He hesitated.

"By humans," Maya said softly. "And by other packs."

My uncle shot her a sharp look. "You know too much."

"I know enough to save his life," she replied.

My heart pounded. "Save me from what?"

"From losing yourself," my uncle said. "From the first kill."

The word *kill* echoed in my skull.

"I didn't kill anyone," I said. "Did I?"

He met my gaze and didn't answer.

My chest tightened painfully. A memory surfaced-running through the dark, the thrill of the chase, the sound of something crashing through bushes ahead of me.

I staggered back, nausea rising.

Maya caught me before I fell.

"I'm here," she whispered, pressing her forehead against mine. Her breath trembled. "You're still you."

Her closeness nearly broke me. My hands hovered uselessly at my sides, afraid to touch her.

My uncle cleared his throat. "You attacked a hunter," he said. "One of the Moonbound Order."

Maya stiffened.

"They found him alive," my uncle added. "Barely."

Relief and dread tangled inside me.

"They're coming," Maya said quietly. "Aren't they?"

"Yes," my uncle replied. "And they won't stop."

I pulled away from Maya, forcing space between us. The part of me that growled at the thought scared me more than the hunters.

"What happens now?" I asked.

My uncle reached into his jacket and pulled out a worn leather band etched with the same symbols as Maya's pendant.

"Now," he said, "you learn control. Or the moon will choose for you."

A sudden sharp pain tore through my arm.

I cried out, clutching it as black veins flared briefly beneath my skin. My uncle's eyes widened.

"Already?" he muttered.

Maya's voice shook. "What does that mean?"

My uncle grabbed my shoulders, his grip iron-strong. "It means the Black Hollow Pack has marked him."

The name sent a cold wave through me.

"You're not just changing," he said grimly. "You've been claimed."

And outside, far away but closing fast, a howl split the morning air-deep, dominant, and answering something inside my blood.

The moon might have been gone from the sky, but it hadn't let me go.