Moonstruck

𝓽𝓱𝓻𝓮𝓮 | Station of Shadows

Next stop, flashed the electronic display hanging above an impressively expansive wall map of the entire region governed by the Sanguine Pack—all of its territory, protectorates, and satellite cities. Cardina.

Outside, vast fields dotted with cotton-white sheep rolled by in a whirl of lush green. Thatched cottages peeked out from between long stretches of gently sloping hills—which resembled the curvy figure of a sleeping woman—gradually popping up more and more frequently before eventually transforming into stately gothic manors. In the distance, she could see a looming giant of a structure that could only be the House of Red Ochre: an honest-to-goddess castle, complete with gleaming terracotta-roofed towers, teeth-like battlements, and a moat brimming with what looked like liquid silver that sparkled under the harsh afternoon sunlight.

"Please tell me the whole medieval thing you've got going on is just an aesthetic," said Ellie, trying not to sound too impressed. Despite her burgeoning curiosity for the way of life of werewolves, she was determined to retain some level of disdain for the city of Cardina—out of sheer spite. Seth had essentially terrorized her into coming here, after all. "You guys do have running water and electricity, right?"

Seth rolled his eyes and pulled out his phone, evidently to text someone. Ellie almost sighed in disappointment—though she would never say it out loud, a small part of her had hoped that Cardina would be an absolute hellhole of barbaric monsters still living in the Middle Ages. Then she would be justified for resenting not only Seth, but also all of his fellow pack members for being the reason why she had to leave her mother for the first time since—well, ever. Unfortunately for the aims of her misplaced resentment, however, she couldn't find anything very hellish about what she was seeing so far. It was even—though she hated to admit it to herself—quite picturesque, much like a quaint, cheerful European town bustling with energy and oozing with stylish languor at the same time.

"Is it true," Ellie asked, eager to find something—anything—for which she could justifiably scorn the Sanguine Pack, "you have this rigid social hierarchy where you're all ranked with Greek letters, from Alpha all the way to Omega?"

"No, that's ridiculous. Why would you think that?"

Ellie plowed on. "What about mates? Is it true that each werewolf has a soulmate? And can smell their mate because of pheromones?"

Seth looked up from his phone and regarded Ellie with utter disdain. "We mate, or marry—whichever you call it—just like humans do. Soulmates are extremely rare; the bond is most definitely not purely sexual as your astonishing ignorance would lead you to believe. Shouldn't you know this? Your mother and stepfather are arranged mates."

"Yeah, thanks for that. I hate him."

"It's typically the Luna who arranges matings and the like. So I suppose you'll have to go to Luna Zahra's grave and...ah. Pay your respects."

Ellie opened her mouth to ask if the previous Luna's less-than-palatable reputation for propounding mid-century ideals was accurate. If she was truly as virulently conservative—racist, sexist, homophobic and the like—as so many humans under Sanguine governance often claimed her to be. Then Ellie thought better of it, in case Seth shared any of those beliefs as well. She liked to think he probably did.

Ellie returned her wide-eyed gaze to the House of Red Ochre, looming larger and larger before disappearing behind a forest of sentinel-straight metal beams as the train pulled screechingly into the station, which in itself was a work of art. It had a lofty vaulted ceiling, a stunning stained-glass arch upon which shone a painted constellation backlit by sunlight that dappled the entire station with dancing spots of iridescence. The stars almost seemed to breathe.