THE LUNA'S LAST LIE

reath is a desperate attempt to escape a past that is after me. The pack I once called family now sees me as a traitor

risky and unfamiliar route, but it's my only remaining hope. Like battle drums, my heartbeat reverberates the constant reminder t

stones and the poison of their whispers. I am free now, and that is all that is true freedom built from blood and tears and an unbreakable resolve to li

the labyrinth of twisted trees and tangled bush. I have no idea where this path will lead, but I simply know that I must continue. I recall the moment I was dismissed, when e

amaged society. I remember the sharp burn of rejection as icy eyes turned away and stones smashed into flesh. The indiscriminate anger and tidal wave of contempt of the pack left me gaspin

ted by years of manipulation and nurtured by words that hurt more than any wound. I realized then that loyalty had no place in a society where dishonesty and power ruled. As I stagge

mb snapping, which becomes a potential threat. They're after me. The pack, with their resentful hearts and unyielding loyalty to a perverted code, will not stop until I'm caught and the r

sadness. I dig for water in hidden streams and hunt food in the shadows, all the while keeping one eye on the dark canopy above, where it seems like invisible eye

he moon, and I allow myself to pause for a bit. I remember the taste of hope in that brief silence the hope that one day I may be able to reclaim what was sto

little, overgrown path, my senses sharpening as I hear a faint rustle of activity ahead. Despite the ongoing concern, the familiar scen

g out to me. I follow it with light but determined feet, pursuing a single objective that defies the fear that is consuming me as I make my way through the woods. Th

s origin. In a little clearing, illuminated by rays of moonlight peeking through the canopy, I find a man lying on the ground. It is a strange

e forward slowly, driven by a mix of fear and curiosity. There is a distinct familiarity even if the figure's features are obscured by the darkness. As my trembling fingers hover ov

h the night since the day I was banished, not that of an adversary or a stranger. Recollections of the vows, the love that was once nurtured behind closed doors,

ht I would never see it again. A history I've worked so hard to forget, a past that won't remain buried in the past, is revealed by every scar and line in the silver light. The

t been provided with an enemy or a threat to defeat. What I once believed to be an irreplaceable piece of the puzzle is now a mystery. The heartbeat is a connection to a past th

m the dark recesses of the forest. As I freeze, my senses fight against the oppressive quiet that follows. The heartbeat is still pounding strong, but there's

stronger need to learn more about the individual's values and the reasons why fate has placed them in my path at this very moment. The energy of existence and the p

that expelled me is pursuing me, and I can already sense their hostility growing. It makes my mind spin to know that my escape and the tenuous independence I have f

e connected to the betrayal that ruined my life. There are several questions: Had this person been a pack member before? Are they connected to the betrayal that resulted to my expulsion?

eat that speaks to a part of my soul, is a clue to truths hidden deep within the pack's history that might upend the cruel order created by those who currently pur

he sound of the beating and my own pulse meld into one loud noise, as if the forest itself beats in time with fate. At that point, I decide. Even if I'm being tormented by terror, I can'

ht air mingles with the warmth of blood on my fingertips. That contact chills me a promise, a warning, an inevitable connection. The heartbeat of the figure seems to speed, suggesting

er, and I know that I have a limited amount of time to find out. Shadows emerge from shadows and the pack closes in, its intent unmistakable. Now that I've discove

evil rhythm. There are no answers for the thousand questions I have at the moment. The mystery clings to my heart, the beating r

s neither mine nor theirs. It is the voice of a person who knows far more than I do, who has b

than just a hunted outcast. I possess the secret to a puzzle that might t

t of danger and the potential to find a r

th of the ravine, I'm about to give myself a fleeting moment of hope when I glimpse a familiar figure someone I never imagined seeing in th