Aria sat alone in the quiet school field, her knees pulled to her chest as the cold evening wind whispered through the tall grass. The silver glow of the full moon poured down on her, drenching the world in eerie light. She tilted her head back to admire it, but something felt… off.
There was a tingling in her skin, sharper than before — like static crawling under her flesh. It wasn't the usual unease she got during full moons. No, this was deeper. Stronger. Alive. The moon's pull tugged at something inside her, something she didn't understand.
Then — crash.
A loud noise shattered the silence. Aria's head snapped toward the school building just in time to see the front doors explode open. A hulking figure barreled through, eyes glowing like twin embers, fur rippling under the moonlight, claws gleaming.
A werewolf.
Her heart leapt into her throat, but before her brain could process anything, her body moved. She was on her feet in a blur. Nohesitation. No fear. Instinct surged like fire through her veins.
One leap — that's all it took.
She slammed the creature to the ground, pinning it with an unnatural strength that didn't feel like hers. Her vision blurred, her breathing ragged. Blood soaked her hands.
The rogue wolf didn't move again.
Silence fell like a heavy curtain.
Students frozen on the field stared at her in horror. A few teachers stood at the school entrance, their expressions twisted between fear and disbelief. No one spoke. No one moved.
What had she done?
Aria's chest rose and fell in sharp, confused breaths. Her hands trembled. The scent of blood, warm and metallic, curled around her like a noose.
And then—
A voice, low and steady, sliced through the tension like a blade.
"You're not just a wolf."
She turned.
Out of the stunned crowd, a tall figure emerged, his movements smooth and deliberate. He wore black — not just clothes, but presence. The kind that made the air around him feel heavier. His eyes locked with hers, golden and glowing faintly under the moonlight.
Every instinct in her screamed danger. Power radiated from him like heat.
"You're Aria Blake," he said, voice dark and calm. "You're more than just a werewolf. You're the heir to a legacy that could change everything."
Aria opened her mouth, but no sound came out. Her throat was dry. Her legs felt like stone. Finally, in a whisper barely audible, she managed:
"Heir to what?"
But the man's gaze had already shifted toward the distant treeline. His jaw clenched, and the air shifted again.
"Soon enough, you'll know," he murmured. "The packs are coming for you."
And with that, the night seemed to tighten around her. Nothing would ever be the same again.