Chapter 88: The Bloodmoon Rose
{IRIS}
She was enormous—far larger than any creature that should exist outside legend or nightmare. Her fur shone like fresh snow beneath moonlight, pristine yet fierce, and her form radiated both strength and sorrow.
The chains wrapped around her limbs, her torso, even her throat, yet she did not thrash or snarl. She lay still, regal even in captivity, her breath slow and heavy.
I could not move.
My heart thundered in my chest, awe and grief tangling so tightly that I could scarcely tell them apart.
My voice, when it finally found me, emerged as little more than a whisper.
"Are you... my wolf?"
The words trembled, fragile as glass.
At the sound of my voice, the wolf stirred.
Her massive body shifted, muscles rippling beneath luminous fur. The chains responded at once, tightening with a low, resonant hum, as though warning her not to wake fully. Still, she lifted her head.
Her eyes opened.
They were silver—no, not merely silver, but mirrors of the moon itself, deep and ancient and impossibly familiar. Looking into them felt like gazing into my own reflection, stripped bare of flesh and fear alike.
My breath hitched painfully in my throat.
She rose as much as the chains would allow, metal rattling softly as they pulled taut. There was no rage in her gaze, no feral madness. Only longing—raw, aching, and unmistakable.
Tears burned my eyes before I realized they were forming.
I moved then, though I could not have said how. One moment there was distance between us; the next, I was close enough to feel the heat of her breath, to see the faint scars hidden beneath her thick fur.
Was she fighting to break free all this time?
I pressed my forehead against hers, and the contact shattered whatever fragile restraint I had left.
A sob tore from my chest.
She lowered her head to meet mine, careful despite her size, and I felt her exhale—slow, steady, warm—against my skin.
"Oh," I whispered brokenly. "How long I have waited for this... to finally meet you."
Her eyes softened.
Light surged around us, brighter than before, swallowing the chains, the endless white expanse, even the weight of my own body.
I felt myself dissolving—not in pain, not in fear, but in surrender. It was as though something long divided was being gently stitched back together.
Whether I was melting into her, or she into me, I could not tell.
Perhaps there was no difference.
When I woke, darkness had already claimed the room.
"W—what...?" I groaned, pushing myself upright far too quickly. The world tilted violently, and I had to brace a hand against the bed to keep from falling back.
My head throbbed, thick and heavy, as though I had slept through an entire day.
Blinking hard, I reached for the clock.
Nearly seven in the evening.
"What...?" I muttered. "Did I really sleep the entire day?"
The room felt unchanged—cold stone walls, heavy curtains drawn tight—but something about the air was different.
I could not say what had changed, nor how it had come to pass. I only knew that I felt lighter, warmer, as though some unseen weight had been lifted. Something within me was no longer the same.
I pressed a hand against my chest instinctively, searching inward for the familiar presence I had felt before... and found nothing.
My wolf was still silent.
Yet—
I smiled despite myself, warmth blooming deep within me.
I had met her.
Lord Val had said my wolf was sealed, bound away by forces older and crueler than I yet understood. I had believed him, accepted the emptiness as fact. But now I knew the truth of it.
She existed.
She waited.
And I would free her.
I swung my legs over the side of the bed and stood, only to pause as faint motes of light shimmered into existence around me. Tiny particles, drifting lazily through the air like dust caught in moonlight, yet far too bright to be ordinary.
"Huh?" I murmured, lifting my hand. The particles brushed against my skin, warm and tingling. "What is this...? Is this moonlight?"
I turned toward the window.
The moon hung low in the sky, swollen and terrible, bathed entirely in crimson.
Blood red.
My breath caught.
"Was the moon always like that...?" I whispered, unease creeping up my spine. "Is today a red moon?"
Then it struck me.
Tonight.
I gasped sharply. "Tonight is—"
The vampire freshmen welcoming party.
My blood ran cold.
"Caroline!" I spun toward the other bed, heart hammering, only to find it empty.
"Caroline," I called, checking the bathroom, then her closet, even beneath the bed. She was nowhere to be found.
She was gone.
"Oh no..."
There was no curfew on weekends, no bell to summon the students back. Some returned home for the two-day reprieve; while others slipped into the mortal world to savor its many sins.
Yet the academy was never safe—not truly—and nights like this were far worse.
A red moon was no simple omen; it was where the creatures of the night grew stronger and become more powerful.
And Caroline had gone out alone . . . into the den of vampires.
"She really went there...?" I frowned, dread settling heavy in my stomach.
I did not waste another second.
The door slammed behind me as I rushed into the corridor, the chill of the stone biting into my bare feet.
Only when I reached the stairwell did I stop short, breath hitching, heart pounding so violently it made my ribs ache.
...Where was the party again?
The question struck me with cruel clarity. I stood there in nothing but my thin nightgown, the hem brushing my calves, the fabric doing little to shield me from the cold—or the dread crawling up my spine.
Idiot.
I turned sharply and hurried back inside, nearly colliding with a group of students loitering near the hall. Their laughter rang hollow in my ears.
I ignored them entirely and raised my voice.
"Landlady!"
The word echoed down the corridor.
"Landlady!"
