Red Moon Rising

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Chapter Song: Howl - Family Crest

XX

At first, I can hear only my own footsteps with the rising thrum of a fight in the background. The voices fall silent when I hit the door to the outside, springing through the creaking door with as much speed as my aching body can offer. I don't wait to look behind me anymore. I won't get caught again; I won't go back to him again. Shedding my sweatshirt, I spring forward as I shift, ripping through the rest of my clothes and letting the tatters fall behind me as I run.

The pain is tolerable at first, a low ache rising in my right foreleg. But it doesn't take long for the feeling to shift to a constant, biting roar. And the rest of my muscles burn as well, too long out of shape and forced to rest within the confines of the school. Behind me, I catch the pounding of feet and the roar of a voice I hope to never hear again.

"Layla!" Those footsteps are beating hard and fast behind me, and then they stop, and I pour myself into running through the pain. It feels like my whole arm might rip from its socket at any moment. But my arm is sturdy; it's healed. If I can just run through the pain, I can make it. In the sudden silence behind me, I catch the swift kick of paws over brush and the heavy panting of a wolf.

I would have outrun them, six months ago. I had a different body then, one that obeyed me, that protected me. But I'm not the wolf I used to be, and my body doesn't serve me like it once did. I'm losing ground to the wolf behind me, and I imagine sharp teeth snapping at my heels as I run and run, lungs burning until each breath is a whine.

And then he breaks alongside me, lips already curled back over a snarl. I try to push ahead of him, but Isaac veers toward me suddenly with an open jaw, and I'm forced to stop in my tracks to avoid him. When he steps forward, I lurch to the side. We've never looked at each other in just our fur before, and I know what advantage I used to have in speed, I would have lost to the sheer size and build of him. He's a terrifying wolf to behold, all rippling muscle and and furious snarl, prowling around me now as we circle each other.

Sometimes, he'll lunge forward to snap, trying to force me to submit. If I shifted now, he wouldn't punish me right away, not when there were other wolves present. It would give me time for his anger to cool. I sift through the possible outcomes, the ways in which I can back down from this without Isaac's wrath carving more damage onto my body.

But I don't want to go back. I don't want to give myself over to him anymore, even if that means I never make it out of the school yard. Maybe they'll put me by Sam, a frozen body to collect drifts until the springtime.

Isaac lunges again, and I'm not quick enough, catching his teeth against my shoulder. We roll into the snow, but Isaac doesn't give me a chance to submit to him. At first, I'm looking at the sky and Isaac's shadow blotting out the sun, and the next my head is snapped back as Isaac sinks his teeth into my neck and begins to shake.

It's a strange feeling, to be caught so literally in the jaws of death. His teeth are deep within my flesh, vicious hooks that keep me frozen and incapacitated beneath him. If I move too much, I'm afraid I'll only hasten what is inevitably going to happen anyway. He's going to keep biting, deeper, and deeper until he either breaks my neck or bleeds me out. Already, the damp warmth in my fur fills the air with a coppery tang. My vision swims, and Isaac pauses to consider me, jaw still latched to my neck.

If I had known, all those months ago, would I have avoided this? Would I have tried anything different if I believe in a curse then, if I knew what would happen to me and because of me? Maybe Sam would be alive. And maybe Cam was right—maybe his mom and Pete wouldn't have died either.

The crushing weight on my throat disappears, and I wait for the final snap of Isaac's jaws. Instead, I listen to the strange noise of a wolf in pain—of Isaac in pain. A wave of tingling washes over my paws and up my legs, and I find my fur receding without even meaning too. This causes another wave of blood to bubble up from my wounds, and I lie still in the snow and wonder at how the air has become so thick with blood and rage.