Chapter 3. Full Moon

My blood is rushing through my head to the point I have a headache, palms sweaty, and adrenaline spiking as I follow the path to the top of the cliff on Jell-O legs. Walking in behind the others, like me, who are to go through the ceremony at the highest point of the full moon. I’m breathless, fighting nausea and internal shaking of fear, body trembling, as I watch where I step a little too closely and almost collide with the girl in front of me. Staggering sideways and kicking stones in my path, accidentally, to avoid her.

“Watch where you’re going, reject!” The growl of one of our accompanying mentors hits me in the side of the face with an open palm as he leans in close and shoves me back in line harshly. Hard enough to send me crashing into the rock face we are brushing up against, and I almost hit the ground with the force, coughing out a whimper of pain. I catch myself, right my body quickly, ignoring the burning pain of abrasions, and skip two steps to catch up and get back in line while rubbing my bruised arm and shoulder from the collision. Trying not to look his way, knowing if I do, he will probably smack me in the face for showing zero respect to a superior.

One of the Alpha’s prominent pack leaders of the subs, one of the Santos. He’s called Raymond, and he’s around twenty-four. He hates anything to do with us. Another superior wolf from a pure bloodline who sees us as an inconvenience and unworthy to breathe his air.

This is the reality of my life and how little value I have in this hierarchy. Reject is the name for all of us like we don’t have separate identities anymore, and I can’t wait to be free of these people and this life.

“Halt!” A booming low, and gravelly voice ahead of us stops us all in our tracks as we come to the level top of the cliff known as ‘Shadow Rock.’ It’s more of a large plateau than a rock, but the sun never seems to lay its light and warmth in this nook of the mountain, and yet it gives us a direct and uninterrupted view of the moon every night. It’s been the point of this ceremony for hundreds of years, and we’re finally here.

I pull myself past the girl in front of me and come to her side to gaze at the familiar scene before us. My stomach churning with the knowledge it’s happening. The ceremonial set up of flares and burning fires at points near the ledge are already there and glowing bright, all the way around the curve of this giant platform. Creating a red and amber glow that illuminates the space in what will soon be the wall-to-wall darkness of this still night. The center of the clearing is marked out with symbols in chalk, and a large set of circles surrounds them, one for each of those who are to awaken. I shudder inside as reality hits home that this is it, and I have nowhere to hide. You can’t outrun it; there’s no way to stop it from happening.

“Clothes off here and put these on.” Scratchy gray blankets are thrust into our arms by a tall, muscular Santo, looking down at us with almost black eyes as he snarls his contempt. Walking past as he dishes them out, I am aware that many have gathered around the ledges and above us on the cliffs’ edges to watch this. Probably annoyed that they even allow my kind to go through this as everyone else does.

All the packs are here already, and right in the middle stands Juan Santo and his immediates. His second in command, his third, and his son, Colton. The ceremonial Shaman, in full dress, is standing with his staff, awaiting the start of his duties. Something he could do with his eyes closed, I expect, as he has been here for so many years.

I don’t wait to question the order, eyes down, nerves frayed, but get to it. I know the drill. I throw it around my shoulders to conceal my body as best I can, the same as the others, and we quickly strip down inside our coverings with haste. Discarding our things into neat piles that we’ll return to later.

Transforming rips your clothes to shreds, so being naked is the best way to deal with it. Afterward, we’ll be able to get dressed again, but this itchy old blanket is all I have to cover my modesty for now. Not that anyone cares. Nudity among wolves is common and not something they stare at or find abnormal. So many turn in the blink of an eye and come walking back in human form with no covering at all. It’s another sign of weakness to be body shy and hide if you have to go home without clothes.

The Alpha types walk around in the nude without worrying, seeing they are physically perfect. The only time it’s an issue is if a mate is being ogled by someone who isn’t hers. Males are territorial, jealous, and aggressively unpredictable when mated up, so it’s typical for regular testosterone fights over looking at each other’s women.

It’s kind of basic and primal and another reason I won’t miss being part of a pack. We’re animals by nature, and humans would be disturbed by what is standard among us. I mean, aggression, physical hostility, and even beating each other are not viewed in the same way humans would between married people. Mates fight, sometimes in wolf form, and bites and scratches are usually the best way to resolve disputes.

I undress fast and leave my clothes and shoes in a neat pile between my ankles to stand up, pulling my blanket around me snugly to await the following orders and shield myself from the cool air. Visibly shaking with nerves, I glance around me quickly to see the others’ similar fear, pale skin, and solemn faces. I’m not the only one who is terrified. We’ve all seen how bad this gets, and before the night is out, we will have felt pain incomparable to anything we’ve been through in our lives.

“Move!” Raymond shoves the male to my left to make him lead the way, and we dutifully follow silently, in a line, to the open clearing and head towards the chalk circles awaiting us. I close my eyes for a second and try to swallow the clawing fear spreading through my veins like ice, my throat dry and itchy with the effort. Holding myself together, I quickly move to the first circle I see as the line in front of me dissipates. Hundreds of eyes are on us as they watch and wait. Silence eery in the oncoming night, and I look up to the sky to find some sort of eternal calm. The moon will be upon us soon enough. Soon it will be dark and dotted with twinkling stars, but for now, it’s daylight, and we have to begin.

After everyone shuffles quickly into place and settles, the booming voice of the Shaman breaks the hush as he gestures for us all to sit while he raises his staff. I do as I am told, slide down quickly, and sit cross-legged within my blanket on the cold, hard, gritty ground beneath me. Trying to get enough of the covering underneath me to make it less uncomfortable. I’m aware of the penetrating stares from all around, and I try to blot them all out.

“Drink.” Something hard shunts me in my ribs from behind, and I strangle a yelp, sitting upright sharply, and spin my head around to see a wooden cup held out to me. Another Santo shoves it into my hand as I unravel it out to take it.

“What’s it for?” I ask innocently, always wondering when we watched from a distance and stupidly naïve to think I’ll get any sense from one of them.

“Drink it and find out,” he smirks, walking away with no actual answer.