The rain-slicked streets of downtown Seattle gleamed under the gray December sky as Lira Arabella wiped down the counter at La Magie Café for what felt like the hundredth time that afternoon it was December 31, 2025, New Year's Eve and the city buzzed with distant anticipation, but inside the little café tucked between a vintage bookstore and a florist, everything was quiet too quiet infact.
Only two customers lingered: an elderly man nursing a chamomile tea in the corner, lost in his newspaper, and a young woman scrolling endlessly on her phone while her latte cooled untouched.Lira didn't mind the lull Slow shifts gave her time to think, to dream, to steal glances at the worn leather-bound diary tucked beneath the register.
The diary was her secret treasure not the cute pastel journals people bought for resolutions; this one was old, its cover cracked and soft from years of handling She'd found it three years ago in a thrift shop bin, drawn to the faint blue embossing on the front that looked almost like a wolf's paw print. Inside, the pages were thick and creamy, perfect for the poetry and half-finished stories she poured into them when no one was looking.Lately, the stories had all been about wolves—massive, intelligent creatures that walked like men under moonlight, bound by ancient laws and fated bonds,She didn't know why the theme obsessed her It just felt… right.
Lira glanced at the clock: 4:47 p.m her shift ended at six,She hummed softly to herself as she restocked the pastry case, arranging the lavender macarons in neat rows. The café smelled of fresh espresso, vanilla, and the faint cinnamon from the holiday scones. Outside, the rain had turned into a steady drizzle, blurring the neon signs across the street into watercolor streaks.
She was reaching for a rag to polish the espresso machine when the first tremor hit
It was subtle at first—a low vibration, like a subway train passing far beneath the building, the hanging Edison bulbs swayed gently. The elderly man looked up from his paper, frowning Lira paused, hand hovering mid-air,then the world cracked open. The second tremor was violent, the floor buckled beneath her feet as if something enormous had slammed into the earth from below Glasses shattered behind the bar the pastry case rattled, macarons tumbling like pastel hail. A deafening roar filled the air, not mechanical but primal, like the growl of something ancient waking up.
Lira stumbled, catching herself on the counter as screams erupted outside Car alarms wailed in chorus the young woman at the table shrieked as her chair toppled backward the elderly man clutched his chest, eyes wide with terror.Another jolt—stronger Plaster dust rained from the ceiling, A jagged fissure snaked across the tiled floor, widening with a grinding screech. Lira's heart slammed against her ribs she'd lived in Seattle her whole life; she knew earthquakes but this felt different and Wrong "Lira!" the young woman cried, scrambling toward the door but the door was already buckling inward, the frame twisting. The windows spider-webbed, then exploded outward in a shower of glass. Lira threw her arms over her face as shards flew past her and then the floor gave way,Not metaphorically. The tiles beneath her feet simply split apart, revealing a void of impossible darkness, Lira had one breathless moment to register the impossible—how could there be nothing beneath the foundation?—before gravity seized her She fell.
She fell for what felt like minutes, wind rushing past her ears, her apron flapping like a useless parachute The diary somehow still clutched in her hand pressed against her chest There was no impact ,No pain. Just endless falling through cold, velvet dark Until there was light.
A pale, silvery glow blossomed beneath her, growing brighter, until it swallowed her whole.Lira hit the ground hard enough to knock the breath from her lungs She lay gasping on cool grass, staring up at an alien sky Two moons—one full and silver, the other a thin crescent—hung low over a forest of towering evergreens that stretched endlessly in every direction the air smelled of pine, frost, and something wilder ,Something alive.Her body ached, but nothing felt broken Slowly, she pushed herself up on trembling arms.The café was gone ,Seattle was gone. The earthquake, the screaming, the shattering glass—all gone.
In their place: silence and the diary, still gripped tightly in her right hand Lira rose to her feet, brushing dirt and pine needles from her black apron. Her uniform—simple black skirt, white blouse, sensible flats—was miraculously intact, though streaked with soil She turned in a slow circle, heart racing.
The forest was breathtaking tree thicker than any she'd seen in the Pacific Northwest rose like cathedral pillars, their bark shimmering faintly in the moonlight. Fireflies—no, something brighter—danced between the trunks and in the distance, a low, resonant howl rose, answered by others in a haunting chorus that sent shivers down her spine She knew that sound. She'd written it a hundred times in her stories,
Wolves.
Real wolves Or… something more.Lira's fingers tightened around the diary She flipped it open with shaking hands, searching for the last entry she'd written during her break that morning. The words were still there, in her looping handwriting:
They say the Blue Wolf will come when the world cracks open.She will fall through the tear between realms, carrying nothing but the truth in her veins and when the strongest Alpha finds her scent on the wind,the hunt will begin.She stared at the page, breath catching She'd written that as fiction a daydream a poetic fragment but the ink looked… fresher The words seemed to shimmer faintly, as if lit from within and at the bottom of the page, new words had appeared—words she had not written.You are home, little one.
The Black Moon rises tonight ,He is coming.
Lira slammed the diary shut, heart pounding so hard she could hear it in her ears This wasn't possible None of this was possible
Another howl closer this time Deep, commanding, laced with something that made her knees weaken and heat pool low in her belly A sound that felt like it was meant only for her. She backed away from the direction of the sound, clutching the diary to her chest like a shield The forest seemed to pulse around her, alive and watching every shadow moved,Every rustle of leaves sounded like footsteps and then she saw the eyes.Dozens of them Glowing amber, gold, emerald—ringing her in a wide circle between the trees Massive wolves emerged from the darkness, larger than any natural animal had a right to be. Their fur ranged from midnight black to silver-gray, and they moved with eerie intelligence, heads lowered, watching her.
Lira froze,the largest wolf—a beast of pure obsidian fur with eyes like molten gold—stepped forward It was enormous, easily the size of a bear Moonlight glinted off powerful shoulders and a proud, scarred muzzle. It regarded her without aggression, but with unmistakable authority. Slowly, impossibly, the wolf's form began to shift,Bones cracked and reformed Fur receded into tanned skin ,Paws became hands. In seconds, a man stood where the wolf had been—tall, broad-shouldered, naked and unashamed beneath the dual moons. His dark hair fell in waves to his shoulders, and his face was strikingly handsome: sharp jaw, high cheekbones, and those same piercing golden eyes now fixed intensely on her,He looked no older than twenty-three, but he carried himself with the weight of someone far older Power radiated from him like heat from a forge ,Lira's mouth went dry She couldn't move ,Couldn't speak. The man took one slow step toward her, inhaling deeply His eyes flared brighter, pupils dilating."Mine," he said, voice low and rough, laced with wonder and hunger "After all these years… I've found you."
Lira's knees buckled the diary slipped from her fingers, landing open on the forest floor.
And deep inside her chest, something ancient stirred—an answering growl she didn't know she possessed ,The Black Moon Alpha had come and the Blue Wolf had finally awakened.