One

I always despised Fridays. It was an odd feeling, knowing that most people eagerly awaited this day to spend time with their loved ones and relax for the weekend. But for me, it meant something completely different. The last Friday of the month always brought a sense of dread, as I knew what was to come. With the full moon in the sky tonight, the markets would be filled with frenzied werewolves, preparing for the Crimson rituals. The streets would be chaotic and dangerous, as these creatures reveled in their primal nature under the moon's hypnotic spell and It was not advised for anyone to be roaming the crowded places at night if they weren't a fully realized werewolf shifter, like me. I tried to quell the ache that formed in my chest at that thought yet again.

I'd been thinking about that a lot lately.

"I'm leaving now Freya, it looks like it's about to rain. Try not to stay long okay?" Morgan, a coworker at the villa where I worked called out to me.

"Uh.. I'll be done in a short while Morgan. Stay safe!" I responded and continued my work.

After several minutes, I hastily gathered my bags and the stained sheets that I had been using as my makeshift canvas all day. It was time for me to leave the villa where I worked as an assistant cleaner. This job was my safe haven, a place where I could escape the chaos of the outside world. The owner of the villa was a well-connected magistrate with ties to the Alpha and his royal family. That's why he rarely visited the villa himself. Our only responsibility was to keep the place spotless for his occasional visits. We were free to do as we pleased otherwise.

But at home, it was the complete opposite. After my mom passed away, my father had taken another woman as his partner and he suddenly cared less about me. He cared more about his wife and step daughter who never passed up the opportunity to make my life a living hell. My father always told me I was only being mistreated because I was still wolfless at my age which is not a normal thing. Since I turned 16, the year which every teenager became a full werewolf shifter, I haven't been able to transform into my wolf form. The worst thing that could happen to any werewolf was being wolfless. It felt like the essential part of your existence did not exist. There was this constant hollow deep down in my chest and sometimes I wondered if I would ever be a true werewolf. I often wondered what my animal skin would look like. Would I be white or black? Or brown? I guess I would never know.

The rain fell relentlessly as I hurried home from the villa. Icy drops stung my face and soaked through my jacket, chilling me to the bone. I cursed myself for not listening to my coworker when she had warned me to leave before the storm hit.

Now, scurrying through the empty streets, her words echoed in my mind. The road to my house was utterly deserted, windows shuttered tight against the wall. Everything was so quiet except for the drumming of the rain and the squelch of my boots in the mud.

I held my bags close to my chest and quickened my pace, my heart thudding painfully. Home wasn't far now. Just a few more blocks and I'd be safe inside, windows closed and door bolted...

A sudden rustling sounded behind me, barely audible over the downpour. I froze, my breath catching in my throat. Slowly, I forced myself to turn around and stare into the darkness.

Nothing. Just the deserted road glistening wetly in the lamplight.

"Get a grip, Freya," I muttered to myself, shaking my head. "It's just your imagination playing tricks."

But as I faced forward again to resume walking, I couldn't shake the prickling sensation on the back of my neck, the uncanny feeling of being watched. Of no longer being alone out here in the dark and the rain.

Swallowing hard, I broke into a run, my bags banging against my legs as I ran for home, praying I was just being paranoid. Praying it was all in my head. Because in this town, you never knew what might be lurking in the shadows. And you never, ever wanted to find out.