EloquentInk

Bloodmoon:Rising – A Werewolf Thriller




Caleb Mercer has spent his life feeling like an outsider in his quiet mountain town, but nothing could have prepared him for the truth—he's not just different. He's dangerous.




On the night of his eighteenth birthday, the full moon ignites a change deep in his bones, unleashing the beast hidden in his bloodline. Wracked with pain and driven by a primal hunger, he barely survives his first shift. When he wakes, the town is buzzing with whispers of slaughtered cattle and strange tracks in the woods. Caleb knows the truth—he lost control, and next time, it might be a person instead.




But he's not the only predator in the forest.




Something older, stronger, and far more ruthless is watching him, waiting. A rival pack has sensed his transformation, and they see him as a threat. As Caleb struggles to control the monster within, he's thrown into a deadly game of survival—one where the only rule is hunt or be hunted.




The moon is rising. The blood is calling.




And if Caleb doesn't master his instincts soon, he won't live long enough to see the next full moon.

Bloodmoon:Rising

Caleb barely remembered getting home.

His head throbbed, his body still burned from whatever Ronan had done to him, and the hunger… the hunger was worse than ever. He slammed the bathroom door shut, gripping the edges of the sink, forcing himself to breathe.

In the dim light, he stared at his reflection.

Sweat clung to his skin, his pupils were still blown wide, his lips parted like he'd just run for miles. His shirt was torn, dirt smeared across his arms and neck. But it wasn't any of that that made his stomach drop.

Too dark. Almost black. And behind them, buried deep… something wild stared back at him.

Ronan's words echoed in his head, and rage twisted in his chest.

Glass shattered, shards raining into the sink. A thin line of blood dripped from his knuckles, but he barely felt it. He braced his hands on the counter, his breathing ragged.

This wasn't happening. It couldn't be happening.

The cold night air did little to settle the storm inside him, but at least it kept him from suffocating. The streets were quiet, most of the town already asleep. Caleb kept his hood up as he walked, his hands stuffed into his pockets, his fingers still twitching.

I just need to focus. I just need to—

The hunger surged again, clawing at his ribs.

But the scent was strong, pulling him forward before he could stop himself.

And in the middle of it, lying completely still—

His stomach lurched. His heart slammed against his ribs.

Ripped across the person's chest, deep, raw, unmistakable.

His pulse pounded in his ears. His breath hitched.

His fingers trembled as he stepped closer. The scent of blood was suffocating.

Chapter Six: The First Crack