Read Howling for Freedom :: Moonlit Desperation(1/2)

Noah Smith sat cross-legged on the floor of his dimly lit apartment, the faint glow of the moon seeping through the blinds. His chest rose and fell in rhythm with his controlled breaths, a desperate attempt to keep the beast within at bay. But tonight was different. The full moon’s pull was stronger, more insidious, and he could feel it clawing at the edges of his sanity.

“Not tonight,” he muttered through gritted teeth, his hands trembling as they pressed into the wooden floor. “You’re not taking me tonight.”

But the beast didn’t listen. A sharp, searing pain shot through his spine, and his body convulsed. His vision blurred, and when it cleared, he caught a glimpse of his reflection in the window—silver wolf ears twitching atop his head, his fingers elongating into razor-sharp claws.

“Damn it!” He slammed his fist into the floor, the wood splintering beneath the force. He couldn’t stay here, not in the heart of the city. Not where someone could see him.

Without thinking, he bolted out the door, the cool night air hitting his face like a slap. The streets were eerily empty, the city’s usual hum muffled by the late hour. His instincts drove him forward, his feet pounding the pavement as he raced toward the outskirts, toward the abandoned factory district.

The factory loomed ahead, its skeletal frame silhouetted against the moonlit sky. Noah skidded to a halt, his chest heaving as he leaned against a rusted chain-link fence. The silence was almost deafening, broken only by the distant howl of the wind.

“This should be far enough,” he whispered, though the tremor in his voice betrayed his uncertainty.

But the moment he stepped into the shadow of the factory, the beast surged forward with a vengeance. His knees buckled, and he fell to the ground, his hands clawing at the dirt as his body twisted and contorted. His shirt tore as his shoulders broadened, his skin rippling with the emergence of silver fur.

“No, no, no!” he growled, his voice a mixture of human desperation and animalistic ferocity. “I can’t—I won’t—!”

But it was no use. The transformation was inevitable. His human thoughts began to blur, replaced by primal instincts. The last thing he saw before the beast took over was the moon, its pale light a cruel reminder of his curse.

The ground beneath him cracked as his claws dug deep, his wolf form fully emerged. He threw his head back and let out a bone-chilling howl, the sound echoing through the desolate factory grounds.

Somewhere in the distance, a door creaked open, and the faint sound of footsteps reached his heightened senses. His ears twitched, and his glowing eyes snapped toward the source of the noise. Someone was here.

And the beast within him was hungry.

The night was thick with silence, broken only by the distant hum of the city. Clara Wilson, the newly appointed Alpha of the Silver Crescent Pack, moved with the grace of a predator through the dimly lit streets. Her sharp senses were on high alert, her ice-blue eyes scanning the shadows for any sign of trouble. She had always been meticulous, especially when it came to protecting her territory. But tonight, something felt different.

A faint, almost imperceptible scent wafted through the air—a mixture of snow-dusted pine and the metallic tang of blood. Clara’s nostrils flared as she inhaled deeply, her wolf stirring within her. The scent was unfamiliar, yet it carried a strange undercurrent of something she couldn’t quite place. It was both alluring and unsettling.

“What the hell is that?” she muttered under her breath, her voice low and husky. She followed the trail, her boots crunching softly against the gravel as she ventured deeper into the abandoned industrial district. The air grew heavier, the scent intensifying with every step. Her heart pounded in her chest, a mix of curiosity and caution driving her forward.

As she rounded a corner, the source of the scent came into view. A figure stood in the center of the desolate factory yard, bathed in the pale glow of the moon.

Clara’s breath caught in her throat. It was an Omega—she could tell by the way his presence felt in the air, a subtle vibration that called to her instincts.

But this was no ordinary Omega. His silver-white wolf ears twitched atop his head, catching the moonlight in a way that made them shimmer like liquid mercury. His broad shoulders were tense, his fists clenched as if he were fighting against some unseen force.

Clara froze, her eyes narrowing as she watched him. His scent was intoxicating, a heady mix of power and vulnerability that made her wolf stir with an intensity she hadn’t felt in years. She could sense the turmoil within him, the way his control was slipping. And yet, there was something else—a raw, untamed strength that defied everything she knew about Omegas.

“Who are you?” she whispered, her voice barely audible. She wasn’t sure if she was asking him or herself.

The Omega’s head snapped up, his piercing blue eyes locking onto hers. For a moment, time seemed to stand still.

Clara felt a jolt of electricity shoot through her, her wolf rising to the surface in response to the challenge in his gaze.

He was beautiful, in a way that was almost dangerous. His lips parted slightly, as if he were about to speak, but no words came out. Instead, his chest heaved with ragged breaths, his body trembling with the effort of holding himself together.

Clara took a cautious step forward, her instincts warring with her curiosity. She should have been wary, should have seen him as a threat. But there was something about him—something that called to her on a level she couldn’t explain.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” she said, her voice firm but not unkind. She crossed her arms over her chest, her Alpha aura radiating around her like a shield.

The Omega’s gaze flickered, a flicker of defiance in his eyes. “And you’re not supposed to be watching me,” he shot back, his voice low and rough, like the growl of a cornered animal.

Clara’s lips twitched in a faint smile. “Touché.” She took another step closer, her eyes never leaving his. “But you’re in my territory. That makes you my business.”

He straightened, his jaw tightening. “I didn’t come here to cause trouble,” he said, his tone defensive. “I just... needed to be alone.”

Clara tilted her head, studying him. There was something in his voice—a vulnerability that belied his strong exterior.

She could feel the tension in the air between them, a magnetic pull that was impossible to ignore. Her wolf was restless, urging her to close the distance, to claim him as hers.

But she held back, her Alpha instincts warring with something deeper, something she couldn’t quite name.

“You’re not alone now,” she said softly, her voice carrying a hint of challenge. “So what are you going to do about it?”

The Omega’s eyes widened slightly, a flicker of surprise crossing his face. He hesitated, his hands flexing at his sides as if he were debating whether to fight or flee.

Clara could see the conflict in his eyes, the way his instincts were pulling him in two different directions. And then, something shifted. His shoulders relaxed, and he let out a slow, deliberate breath.

“I’m Noah,” he said finally, his voice steady but laced with a quiet intensity. “And I don’t think you’re here to hurt me.”

Clara’s heart skipped a beat at the sound of his name. There was something about the way he said it, something that made her feel like she was standing on the edge of a precipice.

She took another step closer, her boots crunching against the gravel. The distance between them was closing, and she could feel the heat radiating off his body, the way his scent enveloped her like a warm embrace.

“You’re right,” she said, her voice low and husky. “I’m not here to hurt you.” She reached out, her fingers brushing against the sleeve of his jacket.

The touch was light, almost imperceptible, but it sent a shiver through both of them. “But I’m not here to let you go, either.”

Noah’s eyes darkened, his breath hitching as he looked down at her hand. His lips parted, as if he were about to say something, but no words came out. Instead, he leaned into her touch, his body betraying the tension he was trying so hard to hide.

Clara felt a surge of possessiveness, her wolf growling softly in the back of her mind. She didn’t know what it was about this Omega that drew her in, but she knew one thing for certain—she wasn’t ready to let him go. Not yet.

“What do you want from me?” Noah asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Clara’s lips curved into a slow, knowing smile. “That’s a dangerous question,” she said, her voice dripping with promise. “And I’m not sure you’re ready for the answer.”

Their eyes locked, the air between them crackling with unspoken tension. For a moment, neither of them moved, the world around them fading into insignificance.

And then, as if drawn by some unseen force, they both leaned in, their faces inches apart. Clara could feel the heat of his breath on her skin, the way his scent filled her senses, making her head spin.

But before their lips could meet, a sudden noise shattered the moment. Clara’s head snapped up, her wolf on high alert as she scanned the darkness. Noah stepped back, his eyes wide with alarm.

“We’re not alone,” he said, his voice tense.

Clara’s jaw tightened, her Alpha instincts kicking in. She grabbed Noah’s arm, pulling him closer. “Stay close to me,” she ordered, her voice firm. “And don’t do anything stupid.”

Noah nodded, his eyes never leaving hers. “I’ll follow your lead,” he said, his voice steady despite the tension in his body.

Clara felt a surge of protectiveness, her wolf growling softly in the back of her mind. She didn’t know what it was about this Omega that drew her in, but she knew one thing for certain—she wasn’t ready to let him go.

Not yet. And as they moved together into the shadows, the night seemed to hold its breath, waiting for what would come next.

The night was thick with tension, the air heavy with the scent of fear and adrenaline. Noah’s breath came in ragged gasps as he stumbled through the maze of abandoned machinery in the factory district.

His body was a tempest of conflicting emotions, his wolf threatening to break free, to lash out at anything that moved. He could feel the eyes of the Beta wolves on him, their predatory gazes tracking his every move. They were closing in, their low growls reverberating through the cold, metallic air.

“He’s here,” one of the Betas barked, his voice sharp and commanding. “Don’t let him escape!”

Noah’s vision blurred, his mind a whirlwind of panic and rage. He couldn’t control it—the power that surged through him, wild and untamed.

He clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms as he tried to focus, to find a way out. But it was no use. The Betas were too many, their numbers overwhelming.

“Stay back!” Noah growled, his voice a mix of desperation and defiance. But the Betas only laughed, their laughter cold and mocking.

“You’re done, freak,” one of them sneered, stepping closer. “Time to put you down.”

Noah’s heart pounded in his chest, the sound deafening in his ears. He was trapped, cornered like an animal. And then, just as the Betas lunged forward, a new presence filled the air—a powerful, commanding force that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

From the shadows, Clara emerged, her ice-blue wolf form glowing faintly in the moonlight. Her eyes, sharp and unyielding, locked onto the Betas, and with a single, low growl, she released her Alpha pheromones.

The effect was immediate. The Betas froze, their bodies instinctively lowering in submission. They backed away, their heads bowed, their earlier bravado replaced by fear.

Clara stepped forward, her movements deliberate and graceful. She approached Noah, her gaze softening as she took in his disheveled state. He was trembling, his body still taut with the remnants of his panic. She reached out, her fingers brushing against his cheek, her touch warm and reassuring.

“You don’t need to be afraid,” she whispered, her voice low and soothing. “I won’t hurt you.”

Noah looked up at her, his eyes wide with a mixture of relief and something else—something deeper, more primal. The scent of her, a blend of frost and wildflowers, enveloped him, calming the storm within. He leaned into her touch, his breath hitching as her fingers traced the line of his jaw.

“Why?” he asked, his voice barely audible. “Why are you helping me?”

Clara’s lips curved into a small, almost imperceptible smile. “Because,” she said, her thumb brushing over his lower lip, “I can feel it too. The pull. The connection.”

Noah’s heart skipped a beat, his pulse quickening at her words. He could feel it too—the magnetic force that drew them together, an invisible thread that bound them.

He reached up, his hand covering hers, his fingers intertwining with hers. The warmth of her skin sent a shiver down his spine, a spark of electricity that ignited something deep within him.

For a moment, they stood there, their eyes locked, the world around them fading into nothingness. The air between them was charged, thick with unspoken desire and the promise of something more.

Clara’s gaze dropped to his lips, her own parting slightly as she leaned in, her breath mingling with his.

But before their lips could meet, a distant noise shattered the moment—a reminder of the danger that still lurked in the shadows. Clara pulled back, her expression hardening as she turned to face the direction of the sound.

“We need to go,” she said, her voice firm but gentle. She took his hand, her grip strong and reassuring. “Stay close to me.”

Noah nodded, his heart still racing as he followed her lead. They moved swiftly through the darkness, Clara’s presence a steadying force beside him. He could feel the tension in her body, the way her muscles coiled with readiness, and it only made him more aware of her—of the strength and power she exuded.

As they reached the edge of the factory district, Clara paused, her eyes scanning the area for any signs of danger. Satisfied that they were safe, she turned to Noah, her expression softening once more.

“You’re safe now,” she said, her voice a soothing balm to his frayed nerves. “But we need to talk. There’s a lot you need to understand.”

Noah nodded, his mind still reeling from everything that had happened. But amidst the chaos, one thing was clear—Clara was different.

She was strong, yes, but there was a vulnerability in her that called to him, a need to protect her just as much as she protected him.

“I’ll follow you,” he said, his voice steady despite the turmoil inside. “Wherever you lead.”

Clara’s lips curved into a small, almost imperceptible smile, and for the first time in what felt like forever, Noah felt a flicker of hope. Whatever was between them, whatever this connection was, it was real. And for now, that was enough.