Moonlit Awakening

Maya Bennett had always been meticulously organized. Her hiking backpack contained everything the wilderness safety guides recommended: compass, first aid kit, emergency blanket, water purification tablets, and enough trail mix to fuel her five-mile loop through Raven's Ridge. The October air carried a crisp bite that made her grateful for the extra layer she'd packed.

"I'll be back by four, Mom," Maya called, adjusting her ponytail as she headed for the door.

Her mother appeared from the kitchen, worry lines creasing her forehead. "I still don't understand why you can't hike with someone. The buddy system exists for a reason."

"Because Jen's at debate practice and Dad's working." Maya checked her watch. "And I've done this trail three times already. Plus, I've got my phone, my whistle, and I'll stay on the marked path."

Her mother sighed. "Fine, but text me when you reach the summit and again when you start heading back."

"Will do."

As Maya set out, her thoughts drifted to the biology midterm she'd aced yesterday. Science had always made sense to her-clear rules, predictable outcomes, logical explanations for everything. Unlike high school social dynamics, which remained stubbornly incomprehensible despite her best analytical efforts.

The trail started gently enough, winding through stands of maple and oak trees showcasing their autumn colors. Maya paused occasionally to photograph interesting fungi or identify bird calls, making mental notes for her ecology journal. By the time she reached the halfway point, the path had narrowed and steepened considerably, requiring her full attention.

Three miles in, Maya stopped at a rocky outcropping that offered a stunning view of the valley below. She settled onto a flat boulder, pulled out her water bottle and sandwich, and texted her mom: *At Eagle's Point. All good. Starting back in 20.*

The reply came quickly: *Be careful. Love you.*

Maya smiled, took a bite of her sandwich, and savored the momentary solitude. No classmates judging her for raising her hand too often, no whispers about how she should "get a life outside of studying." Just the wind in the trees and distant call of a hawk.

That's when she heard it-a rustling in the underbrush behind her, too heavy to be a squirrel or raccoon.

"Hello?" Maya called, trying to keep her voice steady. "Another hiker?"

No response, but the rustling grew closer. She stood, instinctively backing toward the trail.

The massive creature that emerged from the shadows didn't move like a wolf-not entirely. There was something unsettlingly deliberate in the way it stalked toward her, its amber eyes fixed on her face with an intelligence that sent ice through her veins.

Maya's training kicked in-make yourself big, make noise, back away slowly. "HEY!" she shouted, raising her arms. "GO AWAY!"

The creature-wolf? coyote? no, too large for either-cocked its head, almost curiously. Then it charged.

Maya turned to run, but her boot caught on a root. As she fell, time seemed to slow. She registered details with unnatural clarity: the creature's silver-tipped fur catching the sunlight, the surprisingly human intentionality in its gaze, the way its teeth seemed to shine when it opened its jaws.

Pain exploded across her shoulder as teeth sank into flesh. Maya screamed, thrashing wildly, her hand finding a rock. She swung with all her strength, connecting with the creature's head. It yelped, releasing her.

Blood-her blood-was everywhere, hot and sticky against her skin. Maya scrambled backward, clutching her torn shoulder, certain the creature would finish what it had started.

Instead, it stood watching her, its breath creating small clouds in the cool air. Then, impossibly, it nodded-a deliberate, human gesture-before turning and vanishing into the forest as quickly as it had appeared.

Maya's shock gave way to survival instinct. She fumbled for her phone with blood-slick fingers, barely able to see through tears of pain and fear.

"911, what's your emergency?"

"I'm on Raven's Ridge Trail... animal attack... bleeding badly..."

"Stay with me. Help is coming. Can you describe what attacked you?"

Maya hesitated. What had she seen? "A wolf, I think. But it was... wrong somehow."

By the time the rescue team reached her, Maya had applied pressure bandages from her first aid kit, but she'd lost enough blood to make the edges of her vision darken alarmingly. The last thing she remembered was being lifted onto a stretcher, the concerned faces of the paramedics swimming above her, and the strange certainty that whatever had attacked her wasn't finished with her yet.

---

"Sixteen stitches and remarkably little tissue damage, considering," the doctor told Maya's parents. "She was lucky."

Maya, propped up in the hospital bed, didn't feel lucky. She felt like her skin was two sizes too small, stretched uncomfortably over muscles that ached with unfamiliar tension. The fluorescent lights seemed unbearably bright, and she could somehow hear conversations from the nurses' station down the hall.

"When can I go home?" she asked, wincing at how rough her voice sounded.

"We'd like to keep you overnight for observation," the doctor replied. "Animal attacks can lead to unusual infections. But if all your labs test comes back clear tomorrow morning, you should be discharged."

Her parents stayed until visiting hours ended, her mother fussing over blankets and her father alternating between awkward silence and promises to speak with the parks department about increased predator control.

Alone in her room, Maya found sleep impossible. Her shoulder throbbed, but it was more than that-her entire body hummed with a strange, restless energy. The moon, visible through her window, seemed to pulse with meaning she couldn't decipher.

By morning, Maya's wound had already begun to heal at a rate that made the doctor frown and order additional blood work. But nothing showed up in her tests, and by afternoon, she was back in her own bedroom, surrounded by the familiar comfort of her science fair trophies and meticulously organized bookshelf.

"I've called school and explained everything," her mother said, setting a glass of water on Maya's nightstand. "Take the rest of the week off."

Maya nodded, though the thought of falling behind in her advanced placement classes made her anxiety spike. "Did they find the wolf?"

Her father shifted uncomfortably. "Game warden says there haven't been wolves in this region for decades. Probably a coyote or feral dog."

"It wasn't a coyote," Maya insisted. "It was huge, and silver, and-" She stopped, remembering the disturbingly human intelligence in those amber eyes. Her parents would never believe that part.

That night, Maya dreamed of running through forests on four legs, the moon pulling at her blood like a tide. She woke gasping, her sheets soaked with sweat, her heart hammering against her ribs. The digital clock read 2:17 AM. Moonlight streamed through her window, impossibly bright.

Maya stumbled to the bathroom, desperate for water. When she caught her reflection in the mirror, she screamed.

Her eyes were glowing amber-the exact color of the creature that had attacked her.

As she watched in horror, her fingers began to elongate, nails thickening into claws. Pain ripped through her body as bones shifted and reformed. Maya collapsed to the floor, biting her lip to stop herself from screaming again and waking her parents.

*This isn't happening. This isn't scientifically possible. This isn't real.*

But the scientific method offered no explanation for the fur sprouting along her arms, or the way her teeth were lengthening, sharpening. Maya crawled back to her bedroom, desperate to hide what was happening, but her transforming body knocked over her desk chair with a crash.

A moment later, her father's voice came through the door: "Maya? Everything okay in there?"

She tried to answer, but all that came out was a strangled growl.

"Maya?" The doorknob turned.

Pure panic flooded through her. *He can't see me like this!* The emotion triggered another wave of transformation. Before she could process what was happening, Maya had leaped across the room and wedged herself against the door, preventing it from opening.

"Just knocked something over," she managed to gasp out, her voice distorted. "I'm fine. Go back to sleep."

A pause. "If you're sure..."

"Positive. Sorry I woke you."

Maya listened to her father's retreating footsteps, then sank to the floor, curling into herself as the transformation continued. Her consciousness flickered like a badly tuned television, human thoughts giving way to primal instincts-*run, hunt, howl*-then back again.

Somehow, she maintained just enough awareness to keep from making noise as her body completed its impossible metamorphosis. Where sixteen-year-old Maya Bennett had stood, a silver-furred wolf now panted on the bedroom carpet, surrounded by torn pajamas.

The wolf that was Maya paced the confines of the bedroom, knocking books from shelves, clawing gouges into the wooden bedpost, driven by instincts she couldn't understand or control. Only the lingering human fragment of her mind kept her from howling at the moon or breaking through the window to taste freedom.

Hours later, as dawn approached and moonlight faded, the transformation reversed itself. Maya found herself naked and shivering on her destroyed bedroom floor, human again but forever changed. Her scientific mind raced to process what had happened, cycling through and discarding explanations: hallucination, dream, psychotic break.

But the shredded remains of her pajamas and the ruined state of her bedroom told a different story.

Shaking, Maya pulled on fresh clothes and began frantically cleaning up the evidence, stuffing torn fabric into the bottom of her trash can and repositioning furniture to hide claw marks. Her brain felt feverish with denial and fear.

She was just finishing when she heard a firm knock-not at her bedroom door, but at the front door of the house. Through her now-enhanced hearing, Maya caught the murmur of unfamiliar voices speaking to her startled parents. Words drifted up: "regarding your daughter," "special school," "recent incident."

Maya froze, a chill crawling up her spine. Somehow, impossibly, they knew.

Moments later, her mother called up the stairs, her voice strained: "Maya? There are some people here who need to speak with you. About... about what happened on your hike."

Moving on wooden legs, Maya descended the stairs to find her parents sitting stiffly in the living room across from two strangers: a severe-looking woman with silver-streaked hair pulled into a tight bun, and a younger man whose relaxed posture belied the intensity of his gaze.

"Maya Bennett," the woman said, rising to her feet. "My name is Professor Diana Moonclaw, and this is Mr. Everett Wolfe. We represent Moonlit Academy." She extended a hand, then leaned in close as Maya reluctantly shook it, whispering words that changed everything:

"We've come to help you control your wolf before you hurt someone you love."