The moon was high in the sky, shining silver light upon the bleak earth. Crows are squeaking between trees, singing the song of the dead night. I ran past them, aware only because of my heightened senses and not the sanity of my mind.
I've always preferred nights compared to days, as it is a time when werewolves are the strongest. Our creator, the Moon Goddess, blessed us with heightened strength and agility, but she blessed us more so when she shone the brightest. Abilities aside, her greatest blessing was to destine us with our mates—my mate. I didn't know how I got to my room so quickly, but I knew that all I could think about was her with every breath I took.
I pushed the door open, and there she was—alive, breathing, staring at me.
