"Shadows Spells...And The Sixth Moon"

Prizey stood by her locker, slipping a sleek hunting knife into the hidden compartment with her usual cool precision. Her eyes, though calm, scanned her surroundings like a hunter sensing danger.

But before she could shut the locker, a deep, teasing voice slipped through the air behind her.

"So... who's the next prey, Miss Prizey?"

She turned sharply.

"Excuse me?" Her tone was frosty, chin raised, eyes narrowed.

The boy leaned casually against the locker beside hers, the ghost of a smirk playing on his lips. "Nothing. Just saying hi. I'm Simon."

He offered a hand, but she didn't take it. She simply shut her locker and turned away.

Yet... halfway through her steps, she stopped. Pivoted slowly back toward him.

"You... You're the one from the forest, aren't you?"

Simon's smirk deepened. He stepped forward.

The hallway was silent. Empty. Just the two of them now.

He kept walking until her back met the wall. One hand braced the locker beside her head; the other found her waist and gently pulled her closer. Close enough for their noses to brush, for his breath to warm her skin.

And despite her reputation for pushing away every soul that dared touch her—this time, she didn't move. Her eyes fluttered shut. Her breathing quickened.

"So…" he whispered near her lips, "you think I came from the Amazon? Well, sweetie, you're close. I'm not from this country. Only just moved here... But tell me, what forest were you talking about?"

He tilted his head slightly, his voice velvet.

"Because I'm beginning to think coming to this college... might be the best mistake I've ever made."

The moment shattered when Prizey suddenly pushed against him, putting distance between them.

"What the hell is wrong with you?! Don't you have any manners?" Her voice trembled—not with fear, but frustration.

Simon chuckled, completely unfazed.

"Oh, I might have manners, but I tend to forget them around you."

"Ugh! Say that again and I swear I'll kill you."

He leaned in again, a wild glint in his eyes.

"Kill me? Hmm... too late for that. You already did, darling."

"Go. To. Hell!" she shouted, spinning on her heel and storming off.

Simon stood there, grinning like a madman.

"Oh my dear Prizey..." he murmured under his breath, eyes gleaming.

"They said you sent boys to the hospital. But all it took for you to run... was me getting close. So tell me—are you really afraid of me? Or just your Xavier?"

"Hey Aliyah," Max leaned in, whispering just enough for Prizey not to hear, "Do you… know what's going on with her?"

Aliyah gave him a look, biting back a smirk. "Actually... yeah. She kinda had a fight with that new guy—Simon. In the locker room."

Max blinked. "Wait, what?"

Aliyah nodded slowly, watching Prizey stab her food with a little too much aggression. "She's been zoned out ever since."

A grin tugged at Max's lips. "Okay… I thought Simon just had a little crush on her. But it's definitely worse than that. The guy's completely into her."

At that exact moment, Prizey lifted her cold, daggered gaze and locked eyes with him.

"Oh really?" she said, her tone like frozen steel.

Max nearly choked on air. "No-no! I-I was joking! I mean, jocking! Just a harmless jock-ing!"

Prizey's voice dropped even lower. "Yeah? Then stop joking around. You're not funny—you look like a rejected circus clown."

Max froze, a half-laugh stuck in his throat.

Aliyah, on the other hand, burst out laughing like she couldn't hold it in any longer. "Oh my God, Max, she just roasted you alive!"

Max glared at her playfully. "Ha ha. Yeah. Hilarious. So funny I forgot to laugh."

Without another word, Prizey got up from the table, walked off, and shut the door of her room with a sharp thud behind her.

She threw herself onto the bed, burying her face into the pillow like she'd been carrying the weight of the world.

"Ughhhhhhh…" she groaned. "I'm so done."

Her voice was muffled but angry. "First that forest guy—Mr. Strange—and now Simon. Why is my life suddenly a riddle book?"

She flipped over and stared at the ceiling with a dramatic sigh.

"I swear… if they are the same person, it would make my life so much easier. One mystery, one murder. But now I'll have to kill two guys. Ugh. So exhausting."

The lights in Prizey's room began to flicker—erratic, stuttering like a warning. She sat up straight on the bed, eyes narrowing as she scanned the ceiling.

"What is this? A horror movie shoot? Or someone's idea of a really bad prank?" she muttered.

Suddenly, a sharp thud echoed from her bathroom—like someone's fist slamming into the wall. Then came the sound of nails scraping angrily across tile.

Prizey froze, then slowly slid off the bed, inching toward the bathroom door.

But before she could reach it, a loud crash came from the balcony. Her head whipped around. Without a second thought, she ran to the balcony doors and threw them open. All she saw was... smoke. Thick, black, swirling smoke.

The lights continued to flicker behind her, bathing the room in a strobe of light and shadow.

As she stood at the balcony, trying to make sense of what she'd seen, she suddenly felt it—a presence behind her. Her breath hitched. Slowly, she turned around.

No one.

But the bathroom door began banging open and shut violently, as if caught in a storm no one else could feel.

Her heart beat faster, but she clenched her fists. No fear. Not now.

Taking a breath, she forced herself forward and stepped into the bathroom.

The door slammed shut behind her with a BANG.

Suddenly, the wolf mark on her neck began to glow—bright, silver-blue. The pain surged like fire licking her skin from the inside out.

She gasped, then spun around to yank the door open. It didn't budge.

Her eyes shifted to the wall—and her blood ran cold.

Scrawled in what looked like claw marks were the words:

"You will never meet Xavier. Nor will you uncover the secret of the seven keys.

If you try... the seven demons will be ready to tear you apart.

—Wolfkissed Soul."

Prizey staggered back. "W-What? Who is Xavier? What's going on? The keys? Seven demons? What the hell is this?!"

She dropped to her knees, grabbing her head with both hands, the pain in her neck now pulsing with heat. Her vision blurred as the tattoo seared against her skin.

She screamed.

But no one heard her.

No one... except him.

The lights snapped off.

Total darkness swallowed the room.

Then, with a hiss of air, the bathroom door flung open.

Prizey didn't wait—she ran out as fast as she could.

But before she could take another step, a shadowy figure lunged out of the darkness and shoved her from the balcony.

She screamed, the wind rushing past her—

—until strong arms caught her mid-air.

Her eyes flew open.

She was cradled—bridal style—in Simon's arms.

Still trembling, she stared at him. "S-Simon? What... what are you doing here?"

He didn't answer right away. Instead, he gave her a faint, almost teasing smile.

"Scared?" he asked.

Prizey quickly pushed herself out of his arms. "No. Not at all. I mean—maybe a little... But—"

She turned toward the balcony again—and stopped cold.

A strange, twisted creature stood there in the shadows. It wasn't human. And it was staring directly at her.

Her breath caught. She screamed—and without thinking, threw her arms around Simon, hugging him tightly.

Simon stood frozen, clutching Prizey in his arms. Her face was buried in his chest, breath shaky, fingers trembling as they clung to his shirt.

"It was real," she whispered. "Something was really there… on the balcony… it was watching me. I swear, Simon. It wasn't a hallucination…"

Simon turned his gaze toward the balcony—and his calm expression cracked.

A shadowed creature was still there.

Its face was twisted, monstrous… eyes glowing with unnatural light. It wasn't just watching anymore—it was grinning. Smirking. As if mocking him.

In Simon's mind: Not now… not this soon… stay away from her.

The creature's smile widened.

Simon's voice suddenly sharpened, loud and commanding. "I said… stay away from her!"

But the creature didn't back down.

Instead—it leapt from the balcony railing, landing with a thud that echoed like thunder through the night.

It began running straight toward them.

Simon didn't hesitate.

He picked Prizey up bridal-style again. "Hold on to me. Tight."

Without another word, he took off—his boots pounding against the ground, wind roaring past them as he ran with supernatural speed. Trees blurred. Shadows twisted around them. But behind him—

The creature was closing in.

It was fast. Too fast.

Prizey, terrified, looked over Simon's shoulder—only to see glowing eyes gaining on them, claws dragging across the walls they passed, shrieks echoing through the night air.

"Simon! It's still coming—it's chasing us!"

Simon gritted his teeth. His heart was racing—not from fear, but from rage. He wouldn't let it get to her.

Not her.

Not his wolfkissed soul.

The wind howled as the creature closed in, its monstrous footsteps thudding closer behind them.

Simon's grip on Prizey tightened. He couldn't outrun this thing—not without revealing what he truly was.

So he did what he had to.

His eyes darkened, glowing faintly under the moonlight. One hand slipped from under Prizey and rose mid-air, his fingers curling into a sigil of ancient magic.

He whispered a single word under his breath—a spell meant to numb the senses.

"Somnura."

A glowing silver mist surrounded Prizey. Her eyelids fluttered.

"Si…mon?" she mumbled faintly.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, kissing her forehead.

And she collapsed against him, unconscious.

In the next second, Simon vanished.

The world blinked—and they reappeared inside a grand, dark villa nestled deep within the forest. The air here was heavy with magic, the walls glowing faintly with runes carved in old werewolf tongue.

He gently laid Prizey onto a velvet couch, covering her with a warm throw blanket.

"Luna," he called softly.

A soft purring echoed, and from the shadows emerged a sleek, silver-eyed cat, her fur glowing slightly under the candlelight. But Luna wasn't ordinary.

She looked at Prizey and raised a brow. "So… this is her."

Simon nodded, brushing a strand of hair from Prizey's forehead. "Yes. Her name is Prizey."

"She smells… powerful," Luna mused, circling the couch. "Like moonfire and fate."

Simon smiled faintly, though worry darkened his gaze. "Take care of her. Please. She's… my life, Luna. I need to face what's out there."

Luna gave a soft meow that translated as, "Go. I'll guard her with my soul."

With that, Simon turned, shadows curling around him once again—and he vanished.

Moments later, he reappeared at the same place, where the creature still stood, its monstrous body cloaked in black smoke, waiting for him.

Simon's voice was steel. "So… last time you sent Braxtara. And she failed. Now you've come yourself?"

"Nemorga"

The wind howled through the trees as if the forest itself was holding its breath.

Nemorga floated above the ground, her eyes gleaming, the sixth moon key glowing bright red on her forehead—like a cursed crown of fire.

Appearance of Nemorga:...

 --Body of smoke, no fixed shape, 

 --Shifts like a shadow under moonlight.

 --Where a face should be...just a cracked mirror mask.

 --Wings like torn velvet, covered in glowing runs.

BACKSTORY.....

Nemorga was once a moon priestess, a wolf who betrayal her own kind in jealousy. Cursed to wander as a reflection of everyone's regrets. She was sealed into sixth moon crystal which is the sixth key of werewolves world portal. But when the other beasts rose, she followed.

She now guards the sixth seal:

"The vale of forgotten Echoes"

Where your own voice fades away.

----------

"Aww sweetie," she cooed with a twisted smile, "i's that growl, Xavier. That feral rage. The same thing that made me fall for you centuries ago."

Xavier—now fully transformed—growled again, louder. His silver fur shimmered, fangs bared, eyes locked on hers with primal hatred.

"Just shut up," he snarled, voice distorted by the wolf form. "You're not touching her."

Nemorga tilted her head. "But I already have, haven't I?" she whispered, holding up a claw where a tiny drop of blood shimmered black. "She screamed."

Xavier snapped.

With a roar that echoed through the trees, he lunged, claws out, jaws wide.

Nemorga laughed—then vanished in black smoke.

Suddenly—

Slash!

Her claws scraped across Xavier's side from behind. He howled and spun, swiping, but she was gone again.

The forest turned hostile—branches twisting, shadows swirling unnaturally. Xavier's ears twitched, tracking every movement.

Then—

Crack.

The ground split beneath him—dark roots shot out, trying to entangle his legs.

He leapt.

Mid-air, he spun and hurled himself toward the shadows—and this time, caught her.

Thud!

They crashed against a tree with a sickening crunch. Xavier sank his teeth into her shoulder.

Nemorga shrieked—not in pain, but in glee.

"Oh, Xavier, you still know how to hurt me... I love it!"

She blasted him back with a pulse of dark magic—he flew into a tree, bark shattering on impact. Blood dripped from his jaw, but his eyes only glowed brighter.

He stood again, panting, growling.

Then he saw it: her forehead mark flickering. The sixth key... it was weakening.

Xavier grinned in wolf form.

"Your power... it's fading."

Nemorga's smile faltered. She took a step back.

"You can't stop it, Xavier," she hissed. "The moonstones will open the gate—and she will be mine."

"Over my dead body," Xavier growled, launching again—

And this time, it was not just wolf against shadow.

It was a war of destinies.

Xavier's body ached with every breath, his fur matted with blood and dirt. The clearing around them was in ruins—trees cracked, ground torn. The air shimmered with leftover magic like dust after a storm.

Nemorga staggered backward, limping, her black cloak torn, lips trembling with rage. The glowing red key on her forehead was flickering like a dying flame.

"You... you were never supposed to be this strong," she spat, clutching her bleeding side. "You're just a broken wolf clinging to a lost family."

Xavier took slow steps toward her, growling low.

"And you," he said darkly, "are the reason they're still trapped."

He leapt.

With one final burst of strength, he tackled her to the ground. She screamed—but it wasn't fear, it was fury. Her claws slashed the air, missing him by inches.

Xavier's paw pinned her down—his claws digging into her chest.

"I told you," he growled, "stay away from Prizey."

Then his eyes locked onto the mark on her forehead—the Sixth Moon Key.

It pulsed once—then dimmed.

With a snarl, he sank his claws into the cursed mark and yanked the glowing red shard free.

Nemorga screamed.

The forest shook.

Smoke poured from her mouth as the key left her body. Her eyes widened, glowing with fear now.

Xavier stood over her, the Sixth Key now in his paw—red-hot and humming with trapped energy.

Nemorga coughed, black blood at the corner of her lips. Her body trembled, magic leaking out like broken threads.

But then… she smiled.

"You may have taken it," she whispered, "but now they all know... that your heart is still weak."

She raised a shaking hand and pointed straight at him.

"She's your weakness... and your undoing."

A swirl of black mist exploded beneath her—and she vanished into the shadows with a final echo:

"We'll meet again, Xavier... and next time, I won't miss."

Silence fell.

Only the sound of Xavier's breath remained… and the key pulsing in his grasp.

His eyes glinted with both triumph—and warning.

Six down. One to go.

And the war had only begun.

(To be continued....)