The Werewolf Trials

The Moon Goddess offered me her protection. If I died, I'd get one chance to be reborn through the werewolf trials.

I was born with "sensory impairment."

I wasn't an Omega, but I couldn't shift into a wolf. I couldn't see or sense wolves in their lupine forms or their power.

When I appeared alongside ninety-nine other trial candidates in an ancient rainforest shrouded in thick fog and darkness, everyone assumed I wouldn't make it past the first day.

But here I was, in the terrifying rainforest nests, treating a ghostly wolf pup, drowned for its unusual coat color, as my own little cub.

And, I flirted with a bloodthirsty vampire spirit who took pleasure in killing, treating him like a lover.

I even befriended the evil twin Hexenbiest, treating them like sisters.

The first time we met, I reached out and ran my hand over the vampire's abs. "Nice body," I commented, "just a bit on the short side."

He let out a humorless laugh, reattached the head he'd been holding to his neck, and gripped my chin.

"I'm six-foot-five," he said. "Want to take another look?"

The Moon Goddess offered me her protection. If I died, I'd get one chance to be reborn through the werewolf trials.

I've had lunar sensory impairment since birth. I wasn't an Omega, but I couldn't shift into a wolf. I couldn't see or sense wolves in their lupine forms or their power.

When I appeared alongside ninety-nine other trial candidates in an ancient rainforest shrouded in thick fog and darkness, everyone assumed I wouldn't make it past the first day.

I was a burden to my Pack—useless in battle because of my sensory impairment.

When a band of rogues attacked, my pack didn't hesitate to use me as bait.

Claws tore at my skin, fangs gnawed at my bones, and in the end, I was torn apart by a dozen rogue wolves.

Before I died, I heard my former pack members muttering: "What a waste of space. couldn't even slow them down for a minute."

Until my very last breath, I was the one they despised and abandoned.

A flash of white light, and the pain from being torn apart hadn't even faded when I regained consciousness.

When I came to, I was lying on my back on damp, earthy soil that smelled of decay.

The air was thick with the scent of blood, wet earth, and something wild—like musk from some beast.

I struggled to sit up, taking a moment to adjust to my surroundings.

My sensory impairment meant I couldn't recognize wolves by their scent or power.

Unlike other werewolves, I couldn't sense the strength of auras, the flow of power, or the terrifying presence of a wolf in lupine form—a death sentence in the werewolf world.

To me, the most fearsome alpha might just look like a large, fuzzy shadow.

There were many moving figures around me, accompanied by suppressed sobs, angry growls, and confused conversations.

As time passed,