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

Perched atop an abandoned watchtower just beyond the quarry, eyes fixed on the treeline, as if he'd known what Caleb would find.

He didn't look surprised when Caleb stumbled toward him—shirt torn, blood staining his side, Lena close behind, still shaking.

Caleb didn't speak. His breathing was ragged, his vision still tinged with a faint, golden hue that hadn't faded since the fight.

"It talked to me," he finally said. "It said I was turning faster than expected."

That made Ronan's gaze sharpen. "Then it's begun."

Lena stepped forward. "What's going on, Ronan? No riddles this time. No cryptic warnings. We need the truth."

He looked at her—really looked—and for the first time, Caleb saw something close to regret in Ronan's expression.

"There's a reason I've been watching you, Caleb. A reason I pulled you from that clearing the night of the first transformation."

He stepped down from the tower, cloak whipping in the breeze.

"You're not just a random bite. You were chosen."

Ronan didn't blink. "By blood. You carry an ancient mark—a dormant strain of the original bloodline. One the others want awakened."

Lena looked between them, stunned. "Wait. Others? You mean there's a whole pack of those things?"

Ronan nodded slowly. "They call themselves the Red Howl. An old faction. They believe in domination, in embracing the monster. And now that they've seen Caleb survive the turn…"

"They're coming for me," Caleb whispered.

"No," Ronan said darkly. "They're coming for your loyalty."

Thunder rumbled low across the horizon.

Caleb clenched his fists. "Then they're wasting their time."

But Ronan shook his head. "Don't be so sure. The wolf inside you doesn't answer to reason or pride. It answers to instinct. And if they get close enough—if they call to it—you might not be able to say no."

Then Ronan added, "They won't ask twice."

From the shadows, a distant howl echoed through the valley—long, low, and not alone.

It was answered by two more. Then a third.

Chapter Twelve: The Gathering Storm