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 just beyond the clearing, half-hidden in the dark brush, its fur slick as oil and its eyes like burning coals. It was larger than the others—twice their size, with twisted scars running down its flank and an unnatural stillness that made Caleb's stomach churn.

Ronan noticed it at the same time Caleb did.

He stood slowly, stepping in front of Caleb without a word.

"That one's not mine," he muttered.

The air turned electric. The trees groaned.

Not charging. Not snarling. Just walking—deliberate, bold, like it had no fear of the two men standing in its path.

Then, the most chilling thing happened.

Not in words exactly, but in something older—a voice inside Caleb's head.

"You're not ready, Bloodborn. But we're watching. And when the time comes… you'll kneel."

Caleb staggered, his ears ringing with the force of the message.

Ronan looked over sharply. "Did it speak to you?"

Caleb nodded, teeth clenched. "Inside my head."

Ronan's face darkened. "That's an Alpha-level trick. And only the Red Howl's top tier can do it."

Caleb stood shakily. "What do they mean—'Bloodborn'?"

"That's what they call the ones like you," Ronan said. "Descendants of the original line. The ones with… potential."

Caleb's breath caught. "They want to turn me into one of them."

"No," Ronan said grimly. "They want to own you. And if they can't, they'll destroy you."

Back at the sheriff's station, Lena paced furiously while Dawson cleaned a new gash on his forearm—another body had been found. This one not torn apart like the others, but marked.

Carved into the chest with terrifying precision were two letters: B.R.

"Bloodborn Rising," Dawson muttered, looking up at Caleb as he entered. "That's what this is, isn't it?"

Caleb nodded slowly. "They're escalating. Sending messages."

"They're not just sending them," Lena said, eyes narrowing. "They're inviting you."

Caleb clenched his jaw. "Then it's time I answered."

Dawson gave him a wary look. "You sure you're ready for that?"

"No," Caleb said. "But neither are they."

Chapter Sixteen: Shadow in the Pines