Marked By Moonlight

I don't remember falling asleep, only the heat wrapping around me, thick and suffocating. My dreams were restless, full of movement and noise. I was running... no, not running, moving swiftly and confident, through trees that bent and whispered as I passed. The earth beneath me felt familiar, as if it recognized my steps.

Then I woke up, gasping.

Moonlight flooded my room brighter than I had ever seen glowing silver‑white. My sheets were twisted, damp with sweat, and my heart pounded so hard it hurt. For a moment, I just lay there, listening.

The village was silent.

Too silent.

And then the heat returned.

It rolled through me in waves, sinking into muscle and bone. I sat up, clutching my arms as my skin prickled. Every sound sharpened the creak of the house, my own breathing, the faint rustle of leaves outside.

Something inside me shifted.

I slid off the bed, unsteady. The floor felt strange beneath my feet, every tiny crack and grain alive under my skin. Panic crept in, cold and sharp.

"No," I whispered. "Not now."

Pain flared through my chest, stealing my breath. I doubled over as the buzzing inside me exploded into something wild and alive. It felt like my body was stretching from the inside, rearranging itself in ways I couldn't comprehend.

I bit my sleeve to keep from screaming.

Outside, a low howl answered.

Close.

I staggered to the window, vision blurring. The forest looked nearer than ever, its trees bathed in moonlight. I could see paths between them now - clear, familiar paths I had never noticed before.

Then I caught my reflection in the glass.

I froze.

My eyes were no longer entirely my own.

Amber threaded through the brown - faint, but unmistakable.

Fear crashed over me.

Footsteps pounded downstairs.

"Stay inside!" my mother shouted. "Please!"

Her voice cracked, and guilt twisted through me. I didn't want this. I didn't want to scare her. But the pull toward the forest intensified, a tide dragging me forward no matter how desperately I resisted.

Another wave of pain hit sharper, deeper.

I cried out and collapsed to my knees. My hands trembled, fingers curling as strength surged through them. Instinct screamed:

Run. Shift. Become.

The word echoed in my mind.

Shift.

The front door rattled below, not breaking, just a warning.

Then the whisper came again, calm and steady.

You're safe. Don't fight it.

Tears blurred my vision. "I don't know how," I whispered.

The pain eased just a little. The heat focused, no longer wild but guided. Controlled.

Slowly, shakily, I pushed myself upright.

The growling inside me softened, settling into something like balance. I wasn't changing fully not yet, but I could feel it waiting beneath my skin.

A soft tap touched the window.

I turned.

Amber's eyes watched me closer now. The figure stood beyond the glass, tall and solid, moonlight glinting across dark fur and broad shoulders. He didn't force it. He didn't threaten.

He guarded.

The realization rooted deep inside me.

This wasn't a curse.

It was a calling.

My breathing steadied. The glow in my eyes faded, not gone, just resting. Whatever had begun tonight wasn't finished...

...but it had listened.

The figure inclined his head a promise.

Soon.

Then he disappeared into the trees.

I sank onto my bed, trembling, exhausted but more alive than I had ever felt. The forest no longer seemed like something to fear.

It felt like home.

And deep down, I knew:

This was only the beginning of what I was becoming.