In our small town, the Harvest Festival was the event everyone looked forward to—the one time of year when the ordinary transformed into the extraordinary. The streets were filled with the scents of roasting meats and sweet confections, the sounds of laughter mingled with the music of local bands, and every face seemed to glow with the warmth of community. It was the moment when the mundane rhythms of daily life fell away, leaving only the beauty of tradition, joy, and togetherness.
The festival's origins ran deep, rooted in ancient legends passed down through generations. Our ancestors had faced unimaginable hardships when they first settled here. The tales spoke of a time when the pack—our pack—had to endure a desperate sacrifice to survive the first full moon. Some claimed the festival had been born from these trials, a way to honor the past while celebrating the present. The stories spoke of horned figures bound and offered up before the Harvest King and Queen, their lives bartered for the survival of the town.
As a child, these legends terrified me. The thought of being chosen as the sacrificial queen haunted my dreams, filling them with nightmarish visions of a grisly fate. I would wake in the middle of the night, drenched in sweat, my heart pounding as if it had been ripped from my chest. The shadows seemed to move in the corners of my room, and every creak of the floorboards was a harbinger of doom. My nights were filled with anxiety, and it took hours to calm down, each story replaying in my mind, amplifying the terror.
But as I grew older, the fear of these stories faded. They transformed from nightmares into something else—part of our history, a way of remembering the struggles our ancestors had faced, and a reminder of how far we had come. The festival, once a source of dread, became a celebration. It was no longer about the sacrifice—it was about community, about music, food, laughter, and joy.
Tonight, the town square was alive with the magic of the festival. The air was thick with the scent of caramel apples, freshly baked bread, and grilled meats. Brightly colored lights twinkled overhead, casting a festive glow across the stalls and tents that lined the streets. Children dashed about, their excited voices blending with the melodies of the live bands. It was a vibrant scene, one that felt both timeless and new.
I stood in the center of it all, holding two steaming cups of hot chocolate—one for me and one for my date. Mine was a decadent blend of white peppermint, topped with an impossibly tall mountain of marshmallows, drizzled in chocolate, and dusted with crushed candy canes. A treat I'd been looking forward to all week, and tonight, it was made even sweeter because I was sharing it with Alex.
I stood there, scanning the crowd, watching as familiar faces passed by. The festival was a tapestry of joy, a vivid reminder of the carefree days of childhood. My twin brother, Colton, and I had once been those kids, running wild through the square, causing our mother endless worry. We had looked forward to the festival with uncontainable excitement—hot chocolate, games, pranks, and everything in between. Now, as I stood on the cusp of adulthood, those memories felt precious, a part of who I was.
It didn't take long for Alex to appear, a wide grin on his face as he walked toward me, a plate piled high with fresh cookies and brownies. My heart fluttered at the sight of him, but then, in a moment of clumsy grace, he tripped over an extension cord and went tumble to the ground. The plate of goodies flew from his hands, and I burst into laughter. He joined me, his laughter ringing out as he scrambled to pick up the fallen treats.
"Phew, I'm relieved I didn't drop these," Alex said, brushing himself off and gathering up the cookies. "Imagine the mess if I had—they'd be chocolate everywhere!"
I couldn't resist teasing him. "Oh, what a disaster that would have been. I'd have to lick all that melted chocolate off you, especially the crumbs on your lips."
He raised an eyebrow, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Well, if it comes to that, I might just let you do it."
His flirtatious remark made my heart race, and I felt a blush creeping up my neck. There was something about the way he looked at me—the warmth in his smile—that made me feel like a giddy teenager all over again.
"Aww, you're making me blush," I said, trying to play it cool, but my voice betrayed me. "You know, you're adorable when you smile like that."
He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to my cheek. My face flushed even more, and for a moment, I forgot everything around me—just us, in that quiet, tender moment.
"How about we grab some food from the stands?" I suggested wanting to move away from the growing heat in my cheeks. "I heard they have walking tacos. Let's meet by the bench in about fifteen minutes."
Alex grinned. "Sounds great. You get the food; I'll get the drinks. Just don't spend too long at the dessert table—I know how much you love those brownies."
"I promise, I won't be too distracted," I shot back, my smile playful. "And you better not flirt with any other girls while I'm gone. They're all mine tonight."
His voice dropped to a whisper, warm breath brushing against my ear. "Don't worry, cupcake. They're not my type."
I grinned and turned away, my heart still racing. I spotted Kayla, my best friend, in the distance and headed over to her. I needed to tell her all about the date and get some advice on how to make the evening go smoothly.
Before I could even speak, she pulled me into a hug. "You know, you're heavier than you look," she teased, her voice light but her grip firm. "Josh, you nearly broke my hip!"
"Very funny," I said, rubbing my hip. "Remember when you spilled hot coffee on me because you scared me half to death?"
Kayla laughed. "That was one time. You should've heard me knock."
I couldn't help but laugh too. Kayla always knew how to make me feel better. "Walk with me," I urged, eager for her advice. "Do I make the first move tonight? Or should I wait?"
Kayla grinned and glanced over at Alex. "Well, he's definitely watching you right now. Lucky girl. I might need to fend off some jealous girls if they try to hit on him."
"Tell Had to chill out," I said, noticing a girl who had been eyeing Alex from the food stand. "She looks like she might cause trouble."
Colton appeared behind us, his usual smug grin in place. "Looks like Had is ready to pounce," he joked. "Imagine her activating her werewolf gene and starting to attack people. Could you imagine her thinking everyone is a tasty treat?"
I laughed at his exaggerated scenario. "That's not funny, but it is kind of amusing."
"Make sure you come back, and don't forget—you're on Hazel duty tonight," Colton reminded me. "And don't let her sneak into my bed. I might have a guest of my own."
"In your dreams, twins!" I called out, waving goodbye as I turned back toward Alex.
But as I made my way through the crowd, an unsettling feeling settled in my chest. My wolf instincts were on edge; my senses heightened. I scanned the crowd, trying to pinpoint what was off, but everything seemed normal. It had to be nerves, I reasoned, trying to shake the feeling.
Suddenly, a rough hand covered my mouth, and a black pillowcase was shoved over my head. Panic surged through me, and I struggled, trying to break free, but the sharp sting of a needle in my neck sent me spiraling into darkness.
When I awoke, I found myself in the back of a black van. My limbs were heavy, my vision blurred, and I could barely make out the faint hum of the engine. I was bound, unable to move, my wolf raging inside me, desperate to break free.
I had to survive. I had to escape.
But as the van jolted over rough terrain, I couldn't shake the feeling that this was no random act. This was something deeper, something connected to the ancient legends. The rituals. The sacrifice. And it was clear, I was the one they had chosen.
YOU ARE READING
Bloodlines and Betrayal
Teen Fiction"Sinking your teeth in with just one bite, And hoping desperately that you won't die, With holy water coursing through your veins." In the shadowy, perilous world of werewolves, Charlotte has always lived in the eye of a storm. As the sister of the...