The Lycan Pack's Luna

Introduction

Cassandra's POV

Blood.

It was all around me.

Thick. Warm. The scent so strong it made my stomach turn. It pooled beneath me, seeping into my clothes, staining my hands.

My mother's head rested in my lap, her once bright eyes now dull, lifeless. I clutched her closer, my fingers tangled in her hair, my chest heaving with broken sobs.

I screamed for help. Again and again. But no one came.

And then, I saw her.

A little girl stood across from me. Frozen. Trembling. Her emerald green eyes—mirrors of my own—wide with terror. She was covered in blood. Not hers. My mother's.

It was me.

A five-year-old version of myself, reliving the worst moment of my life.

I couldn't take it anymore.

"Wake up," I whispered, my voice shaking.

Nothing.

"Wake up," I said again, louder this time.

She didn't move. Just stood there, helpless, lost—just like I had been.

"Wake up!" I screamed, slamming my fists into the ground. My nails dug into my arms as I tried to break free, to force myself out of this nightmare.

"Wake up! Wake up! Wake up!"

I jolted awake, gasping, my body drenched in sweat. My chest rose and fell rapidly as I struggled to catch my breath.

My hands trembled as I clutched the sheets, my mind still trapped between dream and reality.

It took me a moment to realize where I was.

My room. Darkness all around me, the only light coming from the faint glow of the streetlamp outside my window.

My pulse pounded in my ears, my heartbeat erratic. My throat was dry, raw from my silent screams.

With shaky hands, I reached for the lamp and switched it on.

The dim light flickered for a second before steadying, casting a reflection of me in the mirror across the room.

Red hair stuck to my sweat-drenched face. My green eyes—usually sharp—looked dull and haunted.

The same eyes that had stared back at me in the dream.

I forced myself to move, to breathe. My hands scrambled for my phone, fingers trembling as I dialed the only number that could bring me back to reality.

It rang once. Twice.

Then—

"Hello?" A groggy yet alert voice answered.

A sob bubbled up in my throat. "Damon..."

"Cassandra? Cassie, what happened?" His voice sharpened with worry.

I swallowed hard, trying to speak past the lump in my throat. "Nightmare."

One word. That was all it took to unravel me. My body shook as the weight of my past pressed down on me.

Weak. Pathetic. Alone.

The words echoed in my mind, suffocating me.

"It's okay, Cassie," Damon's voice softened. "I'm here. And one day, your miracle will come too."

I held onto his words, desperate for something—anything—to chase away the darkness.

And as exhaustion pulled me under once more, I let go.

One day, my miracle will come too.

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Hey, you guys! Welcome to the world of Cassandra and Alexander—where myths come to life, and fate has its own wicked sense of humor. 

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With love, 
Izzy.