Luna's Pov

The pale fingers of dawn stretched across the horizon while I walked through the trees to our meeting spot. The old oak stood guard over the edge of our property, its expansive branches reaching skyward like desperate hands.

Eliza was present, her auburn hair glistening in the morning sun. Upon seeing me, her expression softened in relief, but she contorted in horror as she observed the growing purple bruise on my cheek.

"Luna," she whispered, quickly approaching me. “That rogue! I assure you that I will—"

"You’ll do what?" I cut in, my tone more tense than I intended.

"Take on the Beta?" "You'd die before you completed the sentence."

She flinched, and I was flooded with remorse. I’m sorry. "I didn't intend to raise my voice."

"You're right," Her emerald eyes darted nervously among us. "But, I might be able to help you. I have a plan."

Hope awakened within my heart—a fragile, uncertain feeling. "What kind of plan?"

"There is a club located in the downtown area." Moonlight. Neutral land—no faction can claim possession of it. She lowered her voice. "I know someone who can assist you in being smuggled out of the country." A new identity, an altered life, distant from this location and the Crimson Moon pack.

I caught my breath again. "That appears too amazing to be true."

"It’s dangerous,” I replied fearfully.

“Nonetheless, it's your only opportunity."

“The person I mentioned will be here tonight. "Join me at the back entrance at ten. Are you in?"

The day revealed a mix of anxiety and hope. I packed a small bag and placed it under my bed—only some necessities, nothing that would cause any alarm

Night descended, and I hurried out my window, heart pounding against my chest. The distant city lights glimmered as I headed towards the meeting spot. Eliza was present, wearing a fitted red dress that accentuated her figure.

"You arrived," she grinned, but there was something off in her smile. I didn't have the chance to inquire what happened, as she grasped my hand. "Let’s go, he’s inside waiting."

The club vibrated with deep bass that resonated in my bones. The dance floor resembled a sea of people pressed close, a swirling wave of perspiration and longing. The scents of alcohol, fragrance, and intimacy invaded my delicate nose, leaving me feeling woozy.

"Where is she?" I yelled above the music.

Eliza indicated a corridor at the rear. "The exclusive section. Let's move."

We pushed through the crowd, and with every step, an increasing feeling of discomfort mounted in my stomach. My wolf shifted uneasily, sensing peril.

The corridor was dimmer, the music slightly muted. Doors flanked both sides, mostly shut, but from several emerged sounds of joy and anguish intertwined. I came to a halt.

"Eliza, what is this place?"

She turned, her eyes not the familiar warm green I was used to. They were detached, methodical. "Your escape route, Luna."

"Simply not as you envisioned."

I didn't have a moment to reply before she pushed me through one of the doors and slammed it closed. I heard the unmistakable noise of a lock.

"Eliza!" I knocked forcefully on the door. "What on earth are you doing?"

"Enduring," her voice was hushed through the wood, already diminishing as she moved away. "Your dad assured me of freedom if I could pay him back." Forgive me, Luna."

Treachery pained deeper than any bodily injury. I pivoted, assessing my environment. The space was softly illuminated, featuring a bed and a small bar in the corner. Faded cigarette smoke hung in the atmosphere, along with something else—something primal.

"Ah, indeed," a voice crept from the darkness like a person. "What is this we have?"

A figure appeared, slim and towering with snake-like eyes that shone in the dim glow. Not a werewolf—something different. Something that had an unpleasant odor.

"I shouldn't be here," I remarked, retreating toward the door. "This is an error."

He chuckled, an empty sound. "Not a mistake, my dear." Your friend betrayed you. "Five thousand dollars, that's the amount they're offering for you."

My eyes lingered on the door with pleading eyes. "Allow me to leave."

"Not able to do that." He approached nearer, his tongue darting out to moisten his lips. "There’s some time before your new owner comes. Why not enjoy ourselves a bit?"

Terror churned in my gut, yet underneath, fury started to rise. My wolf growled, resisting my command. Talons shot forth from my fingertips.

"Keep your hands off me," I hissed, my voice lowering to a growl.

He chuckled. "A small female wolf with sharp nails. How adorable."

His hand shot out, tightening around my neck. I struck his arm, creating a wound, yet he hardly reacted. His other hand ripped at my shirt.

"I enjoy it when they clash," he scoffed.

I struggled with all my might, yet he was stronger—unnaturally so. My skull hit the wall, causing stars to burst behind my eyes. His body leaned into me, stifling.

Suddenly, the pressure ceased.

A bubbling scream succeeded a troubling crack. With tears in my eyes, I watched as my assailant was lifted off the ground, held by his neck by a towering figure.

"Do you have the boldness to handle what belongs to the Crimson Moon?" The voice was simultaneously icy and searing, resonant yet terrifying in its fury.

The man inhaled sharply, clawing at the hand holding his neck. "I didn't know you possessed it now."

With a flick of his wrist, the strange man severed the other's neck. The body dropped to the ground like a discarded puppet, with the head twisted at an unusual angle.

I collapsed against the wall when my legs failed me.

When he stepped back and his eyes met mine, I recognised him for the first time; they were as cold and piercing as ice crystals, heartless and unforgiving. And kind of fascinating, too.

He had a beauty typical of top predators—deadly grace wrapped in power. Dark locks fell across his forehead. And his jawline was sharp enough to cut through glass, surrounded by a face of restrained fury.

"Are you hurt?" he asked, his voice unexpectedly gentle.

I stayed still and silent. He crouched beside me, making me naturally flinch.

"I asked you a question," he stated, a harsh tone beginning to enter his voice.

"I-I’m fine," I whispered. "Who are you?"

Instead of replying, he helped me stand up. His eyes evaluated me, appraising the situation. His expression shifted when he noticed the bruise on my cheek—a hint of something menacing.

"You aren't meant to be here," he finally stated.

"I know that," I responded, my tone calm once more. "I was misled."

A brief smile formed on his lips and then vanished swiftly.

He stepped back, and for the first time, I noticed the blood on his expensive suit. It seemed to have no impact on him whatsoever.

"Go back home, young wolf," he stated, turning his back on me. This location is not appropriate for you."

"Wait a moment!" I called out after him. "You can't leave me here with—" I gestured at the figure lying on the ground.

He paused in the doorway, looking over his shoulder. "I just did."

He then disappeared down the murky passage.

I stood there, shaking, for what seemed like an eternity before summoning the courage to move around the body and leave the room. The atmosphere in the club had shifted to one of dread and menace. People stared at me as I went past the swarm to the door.

The cool night wind grazed my face, revitalizing my thoughts. I raced home driven by a mix of adrenaline and fear.

I lightly went through the front entry, dashing to my room before anyone noticed me, and suddenly came to a standstill. My father stood in the doorway, his face contorted with anger. Nevertheless, he was not alone.

Beside him stood another man—tall, strong, radiating a potent presence that made my wolf whimper. His dark hair featured silver streaks at the temples, and his face was rough yet appealing. And his eyes—I knew that look.

"There she is," my father remarked, his voice tight with contained anger. "I’m sorry for her being late, Don Russo."

My veins became cold as ice. Don Russo. Dominic Russo. The leader of the Scarlet Moon pack.

Nevertheless, it was not he who drew my attention. It was the younger man who stepped out from behind him—the one from the club, both my savior and my assassin. His frigid stare locked onto mine, nostrils faintly quivering as he smelled the air.

"She carries the scent of another man," he spoke, his voice menacingly low.

The hue vanished from my father's face. "I guarantee you, she's—"

"QUIET." Dominic Russo lifted a hand, causing my father's mouth to close with a noticeable snap. "Alexander, what's your opinion?"

His Beta, Alexander, moved around me gradually, like a predator hunting its victim. "Seems she got entangled with a man."

"I can explain," I attempted, but his icy gaze cut me short.

"Hold onto your explanations," he remarked. "I'm aware of what took place. The question is, what occurs next?

Don Russo regarded me with assessing eyes. "The setup remains in place. However, the girl needs to learn her role."

My father advanced, hand already lifted. "I'll take care of it immediately—"

In one swift move, Don Russo signaled to Alexander, who seized my father's wrist, halting the strike before it fell. "No," he snarled, his tone menacingly low. "She belongs to me now." And nobody lays a hand on what belongs to me."

The atmosphere in the room was stifling. My father's expression twisted in helpless anger, yet even he would not risk confronting Dominic Russo's son.

Don Russo’s gaze returned to me, his eyes both menacing and alluring simultaneously. "We have so much to talk about, little wolf."

And in that instant, I realized that my fate was destined. There would be no journey, no way out of the frigid grasp of the Crimson Moon.