After seven years together, Jackson Cross surprised me with a silver crescent moon pendant and a bouquet of moon lilies for my birthday. The gifts were beautiful—too beautiful. His sudden thoughtfulness felt more like an obligation than genuine affection.
I had always been an outsider in the pack. A wolf born with blood that should have allowed me to shift but had never once done so. Among our kind, a wolf unable to shift was a half-formed creature, weaker, unworthy. For years, Jackson was the only one who treated me as if I were whole, who told me I was enough.
But lately, even he seemed distant, his gaze drifting elsewhere, his words clipped and sharp. I ignored the whispers from the other pack members and told myself it was the stress of leadership.
I clung to him because he was all I had.
Later that evening, as the full moon climbed higher, Jackson left without much explanation, muttering about “pack matters.”
I didn’t ask questions. I rarely did anymore. Confrontations with Jackson never ended well. He always had a way of twisting my words until I was the one apologizing. Still, a strange unease gnawed at me.
Unable to ignore the pull of the moon, I left the den, wandering into the forest. My feet carried me toward the ridge where the pack gathered for rituals. The pull in my chest felt stronger with every step.
And then I saw them.
Jackson stood with Charlie Pierce under the moonlight. She was radiant, her transformation only partially undone, with glistening claws and glowing amber eyes. Her laugh carried through the air as she leaned toward him, her hands brushing his arm.
My heart clenched. The lilies, the pendant—none of it had been for me.
Stepping out from the shadows, I let my presence be known. “This is what pack business looks like, Jackson?”
He turned to me, his expression flickering between annoyance and guilt. “Bellamy, go home. You’re out of your depth here.”
I laughed bitterly, though it took everything in me to keep my voice steady. “Go home? Are you planning to mark her too, or just give her the flowers you pretended were mine?”
Charlie smirked, her predatory confidence cutting deeper than any words. “Jackson, maybe you should explain to her. Poor thing looks like she doesn’t understand how the pack works.”
Jackson’s face darkened. “Stop being paranoid, Bellamy. This is why you’ll never fit into the pack. You’re too sensitive, too unstable to lead.”
The words hit harder than they should have, not because they were true, but because I had always feared they might be. For years, I believed Jackson when he told me I was weak, that he was the only one who could protect me.
I forced a calmness into my voice that I didn’t feel. “You’ve been lying to me,” I said, my voice trembling. “Both of you. I don’t know what this is, but I won’t be part of it anymore.”
I didn’t wait for a reply. I turned and left, the forest swallowing me in silence.
My breath came in sharp gasps as the primal energy of the moon swelled around me. A searing pain tore through my chest, and I fell to my knees. It was as though the forest itself was reaching into me, drawing something ancient to the surface.
For years, I had lived as a wolf who couldn’t shift, an outcast in my own skin. The idea that Jackson might love me despite my brokenness had been my only comfort. But now, the truth burned.
He had never loved me. He had kept me small, quiet, and blind to what I could be.
Clutching the earth, I felt something awaken—a low growl rising unbidden from my throat, my nails digging into the dirt like claws. The moonlight seared my skin, and for the first time, I felt more wolf than human.
But the pain passed before the shift could complete itself. I sat in the dirt, trembling, staring at my hands. Still human. Still broken.
When I returned to the den, Jackson was waiting. He threw the pendant onto the table, his expression sharp and cold. “Bellamy, this childish behavior has to stop. If you want to stay with me, you need to learn your place.”
I picked up the pendant, staring at the delicate crescent moon. It had once felt like a promise; now it was a mockery. I slipped it around my neck and forced a small smile. “You’re right,” I murmured. “I need to find my place.”
Jackson smirked, misreading my words as submission.
I didn’t correct him. Not yet.
Because I wasn’t leaving tonight. Or tomorrow. But I would leave. The full moon’s pull had shown me what I could become, and I wouldn’t let Jackson or the pack keep me caged any longer.
For now, I stayed quiet, letting him believe he had won. But in my heart, I was already gone.
