The Wolf’s Ascension

The full moon hung heavy in the night sky, its silvery light spilling over the ancient trees that surrounded Silverclaw. The air was thick with anticipation, the kind that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. I could feel it-the eyes of my pack on me, their unspoken expectations weighing down like a shackle around my soul. Tonight was supposed to be a celebration, a rite of passage, but all I could feel was a cold dread settling in my bones.

I stood in the heart of the clearing, surrounded by the towering oaks that had watched over Silverclaw for centuries. The sacred fire crackled before me, its flames licking the air as if desperate to consume the moonlight. I closed my eyes, trying to focus, to calm the racing of my heart. But the visions-those damned visions-kept flickering behind my eyelids, like ghosts refusing to be laid to rest.

"Seraphina." The voice of the town elder, Morwenna, was low and steady, carrying the weight of authority and ancient knowledge. She was a figure of reverence, her long silver hair a testament to the years she had witnessed, and the secrets she guarded. I looked up at her, meeting her gaze-those sharp, knowing eyes that seemed to pierce through the layers of my soul.

"It's time," she said, her words cutting through the tension. "You must understand the prophecy, child. It is not just a story passed down through the ages. It is your destiny."

I nodded, though my throat felt tight, the words I wanted to say caught somewhere deep within. Morwenna's gaze softened, but only slightly. "The prophecy speaks of a Luna who will rise to either save or doom our kind. You are that Luna, Seraphina. The weight of our world rests on your shoulders."

Her words were like lead, sinking into my chest. I had known about the prophecy all my life and had been told I was special, chosen. But now, standing here under the gaze of the full moon, it felt more like a curse than an honor.

The fire crackled louder, and I felt the warmth of it on my skin. I was aware of my younger sister, Ava, standing just behind me, her presence a comforting shadow. Ava was everything I wasn't-calm, composed, always sure of herself. Yet tonight, even she seemed uneasy. I glanced back at her, and she gave me a small, worried smile. "Something feels wrong," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the crackling fire.

I wanted to tell her she was imagining things, that everything would be fine, but the words died in my throat. I couldn't shake the feeling that she was right. There was something dark on the horizon, something coming for us.

As if in response to my thoughts, the vision returned with a sudden, violent intensity. My surroundings blurred, the fire, the trees, the faces of my pack fading into darkness. All that remained was the moon, glowing with a harsh, unnatural light. And then the shadows began to creep in, twisting and curling around the edges of my vision. A figure emerged from the darkness, cloaked in shadows, their features obscured. I couldn't see their face, but I could feel their eyes on me, boring into me with a malevolent intent.