Page 120 of Fool Moon First Aid

Memories of Ethan’s smooth shift into his wolf form light up my thoughts. It’s not just about changing shape, it’s about fully embracing every piece of who you are, and I’m a wolf shifter too. It’s time I face that truth, let go of my fears, and tap into the strength I’ve always had inside.

I am spiritkin.

Eyes closed, I breathe deeply and center myself, aligning with my inner spirit. The presence of the wolf within is undeniable, restless, and yearning for release. This transformation isn’t just something I need to do, it’s me accepting who I really am.

With a final breath, I surrender to the change I’ve resisted for far too long. It’s intense, pain and thrill mixing together as my body shifts and changes into its truest form. My screams of agony turn into growls of power.

Then, there’s clarity. The world sharpens, a riot of scents and sounds unveiling the intricacies of life with newfound precision. In this form, I’m strong and free, my doubts replaced by a solid sense of who I am.

My senses guide me. Beyond the noise of battle, and the smell of fear and blood, I catch the scent of my clan. They are my north star, leading me through the turmoil.

With a deep, centering breath, I move forward on all fours, each step growing more confident. I burst into a sprint, the ground blurring beneath me as I race toward the fray, determined to stand with my clan and to demonstrate my true strength.

I may not be stronger than them, but I can be just as cunning as my father, and right now, I need to be.

The night cloaks me, turning me into a mere wisp among the shadows, with the moon shedding just enough light to paint everything in shades of gray. The forest around me buzzes with the subtle sounds of life and the distant clashes of my clan defending our territory. Here I am, in my majestic wolf form, endeavoring not to let the rush of adrenaline make a fool of me.

The air is tainted with an unmistakable scent—humans, but not the kind who are lost. They came with ill intentions. Hunters. Their heartbeats are a discordant rhythm in the night, approaching with all the subtlety of an avalanche. They think they are being stealthy with their high-tech gear and weapons, clearly unacquainted with a wolf whose senses are finely tuned.

Hint—that’s me.

I stay low, using the wind to hide my approach. They are encroaching on my territory, and I have no intention of rolling out the red carpet. Creeping closer, they think they are hidden, not realizing I’m about to turn their night upside down.

As they stop and scan the dark, I pounce on the one closest to me, my teeth finding his arm. It’s not exactly my preferred taste, but it gets the job done. He cries out, a mix of surprise and pain, as we hit the ground.

The second one spins, aiming his rifle at me, but I’m quicker. I dodge the bullet, then I’m on him in a heartbeat. Our fight is messy and desperate, his silver knife glinting under the moon—a poor choice against me. I dodge and weave, using moves he’s never seen, and soon, he’s down, joining his friend in defeat.

I release a howl into the night—a cry of victory and a beacon to my clan. Without lingering, I dissolve back into the shadows, reclaimed by the night.

Panting, I stand victorious, yet the feeling is bittersweet. That’s when I detect the taste of blood in my mouth, sharp and metallic. Surprisingly, it doesn’t make me feel sick or uneasy. I push the idea of blood away, attributing my newfound tolerance to being in my spiritkin form.

The night has more in store, however, delivering a gut-wrenching twist. The air, heavy with the scent of blood and illuminated by moonlight, carries a howl—a sound laden with so much agony, it ensnares my heart. Instinct propels me forward, my paws thundering toward the source of that distress. In that moment, nothing else matters.

I burst into a clearing that the moonlight transforms into a stage set for heartbreak, with Natalie caught in the center. She is stuck between her wolf and human forms, her blood darkening the earth. A hunter looms above her, a stark embodiment of death, his gun pointed straight at her heart.

Anger floods me.

Any past grievances, jealousies, or conflicts—none of it matters now. Natalie is family, part of the clan, and this hunter is about to discover the grave mistake of threatening one of our own.

With primal instinct, I throw myself at him, fueled by raw fury. We crash to the ground, our struggle a whirlwind of snarls and grunts. My wolf instincts give me the edge, a mix of surprise and anger propelling me. A final, decisive blow renders him unconscious.

My focus returns to Natalie, and my heart races with worry. Shifting back, I kneel beside her.

“Shit, Natalie, focus on your human form,” I coax, hoping she can focus enough to heal. “There you go, focus.”

Her return to human form is agonizingly slow, every transformation marked by pain. When her eyes finally open, my presence seems to both confuse and comfort her.

“Ava?” she murmurs. Her eyes are glazed over from pain, and there’s a hole in her shoulder, where the hunter already shot her before I got to him.

“Yeah, it’s me,” I reply, forcing cheerfulness into my tone, despite the tightness in my chest. “Let’s get you somewhere safe, okay? Can you shift to heal?”

“No, I can’t. Leave me to rot.” She lets her head thump to the earth. “It’s what I deserve.”

“Get up.” I try to drag her to a sitting position, but she’s dead weight. “Come on, I’m not leaving a soul behind.”

“Don’t be stubborn. Let me die.” She twists out of my grip, only to hurt herself, yelping in pain.

Growling, I tug her up again, not about to give up. “Well, guess what? This stubborn wolf isn’t letting you die out here.”

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