Last Moon: Rebirth, Love, and the Werewolf Rockstar

Now, she found herself in unfamiliar territory. The sound of K's haunting baritone still echoed faintly in the distance, a distant melody reverberating through the otherwise silent street. She must still be near the park, but the scene around her was starkly different. The narrow street was bare, the few streetlights flickering weakly as if exhausted. Shadows sprawled across cracked pavements, stretching like claws in the dim light. A chill deeper than the night air settled on her skin.

Her breathing came uneven as she tried to gather her thoughts, glancing around to orient herself. The sense of disorientation grew heavier with every passing second. Which way had she come? Which direction would lead her back to her hotel? Panic began to prickle at the edges of her composure. She should have paid more attention. She knew better than to wander these streets alone at night.

Before she could decide, a low, mocking whistle pierced the stillness, and her heart dropped into her stomach.

"Hey, beautiful miss, what are you doing here all alone?"

She spun toward the voice, and her pulse quickened as a group of youths emerged from the shadows. Their faces were half-hidden in the dim light, but their posture and swagger screamed hostility. Some toyed with knives, the blades gleaming in the faint glow. The malice in their eyes was unmistakable.

"Yeah, did your date ditch you before the New Year?" one of them sneered, his voice laced with something that made her stomach churn.

Laughter rippled through the group, sharp and jeering. The sound grated on her ears, each laugh a tiny shard of ice piercing her fragile composure.

Her throat tightened as she scolded herself. How could she have been so careless? She had lived in Paris once, years ago during a study abroad program, and she knew better than to wander aimlessly, especially at night. Paris had beauty, but it wasn't without its shadows. She remembered the warnings, the hushed conversations about petty thieves and worse. She had been so lost in her own grief, so desperate to escape the echoes of the music, that she had forgotten all of it.

"Hey, why don't we all celebrate together?" one of them suggested, his voice laced with something that made her stomach churn. He stepped closer, his shadow falling over her like a shroud.

She took a shaky step back, clutching her bag closer to her chest. Her mind raced, searching for an escape, but her options were grim. When she turned to retreat, she realized too late that another group had circled behind her, blocking her path. She was trapped.

"Do you want money?" she asked, her voice trembling despite her best efforts to sound calm. "Here. You can have it."

Her hands moved quickly, fumbling with the clasp of her clutch. She pulled out all the cash she had on her and extended it toward them. A ridiculous stroke of luck had meant she hadn't brought her wallet tonight, and for that, she was grateful. If she had, she wouldn't have hesitated to empty her accounts to buy her way out of this.

But as she held out the money, she realized with a sinking dread that it wasn't going to be enough. Their eyes, hungry and predatory, told her everything she needed to know.

The group exchanged looks, then burst into laughter again, cruel and cold.

"Aww, don't be so stingy, sweetheart," one of them sneered. "We don't just want your money."

Her heart stuttered as she felt their eyes roaming over her. She cursed her face, the same beauty that had once filled her with pride now serving as a dangerous beacon. She felt exposed, vulnerable, like prey caught in a hunter's gaze.

"We can't just leave a sad, lonely girl like you all alone," another mocked. "How about we keep you company?"

The words were laced with a venom that sent a shiver of terror down her spine. She could almost feel their hands on her, their breath hot against her skin.

"Don't worry," another added, stepping closer, his knife spinning lazily in his hand. "We'll make sure you have a real memorable New Year."

Her body froze in panic, and she clutched her bag tighter, as though the thin leather might shield her from what was coming. She stumbled back, but before she could make a move, one of them lunged toward her.

She flinched, bracing for the hand that was reaching out—

—but it never came.

Instead, a blur of white slammed into the man, knocking him to the ground with bone-crunching force. A vicious snarl ripped through the air, primal and raw, making the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. The sound was unlike anything she had ever heard, a guttural roar that spoke of raw power and untamed fury.

The others recoiled in shock as the attacker's screams pierced the night.

"It's a wild dog!" one of them shouted, his voice breaking in fear.

But it wasn't a dog.

She turned to see it—a massive wolf, its fur an unearthly white that shimmered faintly under the streetlight. Its size was almost surreal, towering over the fallen man it had dragged to the ground. Its muscles rippled beneath its fur, a display of raw strength that sent a shiver down her spine. The wolf's eyes blazed with a savage intensity, its teeth bared as blood dripped from its fangs.

Before the others could react, the wolf lunged again, its powerful jaws snapping at another thug who dared to move toward it. The group scattered in disarray, their bravado dissolving into panicked screams. The wolf moved with a terrifying grace, a whirlwind of white fury.

"It's going to kill us!"

The wolf moved like a force of nature, swift and merciless. With each leap and snarl, it drove the attackers further back, its ferocity unmatched. The men stumbled over themselves in their desperation to escape, their knives abandoned on the pavement. She watched, mesmerized and terrified, as the wolf tore through their ranks.

She stood frozen, unable to process what she was seeing. This creature—this wolf—was unlike anything she had ever encountered. Its presence was terrifying, yes, but there was something else, something that made her chest tighten. A strange sense of… familiarity? She couldn't explain it, but as she watched the wolf move, she felt a flicker of recognition, a whisper of a memory she couldn't quite grasp.

It wasn't just a wild animal. It moved with a calculated precision, each motion deliberate, as though it was entirely aware of its purpose. Then, as the last of the attackers—save for those left unconscious on the ground—vanished into the shadows, the wolf turned its piercing gaze toward her.

For a moment, she couldn't breathe. Its mismatched eyes locked onto hers, unblinking and intense, and the connection felt strangely familiar—like staring into the soul of something far older and far more knowing than it had any right to be. Those eyes… She knew she had seen them before, but where?

The woman and the wolf remained locked in each other's gaze. The wolf's breath came in ragged gasps, its chest heaving. Even in the midst of its fury, it seemed… vulnerable. The thought was absurd, yet it lingered.

She didn't understand why her heart was pounding so violently. It wasn't fear—the wolf had saved her, attacking the men without hesitation or mercy. No, it was something else entirely. A rushing, unnameable feeling coursed through her veins, making her chest tighten and her breath hitch. Was it gratitude? Or something more… primal?

She studied the creature, its massive form haloed by the faint glow of the streetlight. Its mismatched eyes—one molten gold, the other an icy blue—pierced her with an intensity that made her feel bare, as if it could see through the pain and confusion buried deep within her. The gold in its eye seemed to glow with a warm light, a stark contrast to the icy blue that held a chilling intensity.

I've seen those eyes before. The thought echoed in her mind, insistent and unsettling. But before she could untangle the thought, before she could even begin to understand why the wolf's presence felt so achingly familiar, a movement behind her made her freeze.

Unbeknownst to her or the wolf, one of the thugs had managed to stagger to his feet. His face was contorted in rage, blood dripping from the scratches and bites the wolf had inflicted on him. Without a word, he raised a knife, its blade glinting menacingly in the dim light, and plunged it into her back.

Pain exploded through her body, sharp and all-consuming. She gasped as blood gushed from her lips, splattering onto the cold pavement. Her vision blurred for a moment, the world tilting violently. The coldness of the blade seared through her back, a fire that threatened to consume her.

The wolf's howl tore through the air—a sound so raw and primal it sent shivers racing down her spine. It sprang into action, its powerful legs propelling it toward the attacker in a blur of white. The sound was different this time, more anguished, more desperate.

The man had no chance. The wolf's massive jaws clamped onto him, dragging him to the ground with a ferocity that was both terrifying and mesmerizing. Its mismatched eyes glinted with a fury she had never seen before, each movement deliberate and brutal. It was no longer simply protecting her; it was avenging her. The sound of bone crunching echoed in the night, a stark counterpoint to the distant music that still drifted on the wind.

But her body refused to hold on. The pain from the knife was already fading, replaced by an unbearable cold creeping through her limbs. She crumpled to the ground, landing on her side as the strength drained from her. Her breaths came in shallow, ragged gasps. The blood pooling beneath her felt distant, like it belonged to someone else. So cold…

She forced her eyes to stay open, though it was getting harder with every second. Through the haze, she saw the wolf dispatch the last of the thugs, its snarls fading into heavy breaths. Then it turned to her, bounding across the ground with urgency, its fur streaked with crimson. He's coming…

As the wolf reached her, her dimming vision seemed to play tricks on her. The massive creature's form shimmered, shifting and collapsing inward, limbs stretching and reshaping until what stood before her was no longer a wolf, but a man. The transformation was swift, almost impossible, yet she saw it happen. What…?

A man with a powerful, rugged frame, his skin bare and glistening under the faint light. His mismatched eyes burned with desperation, and his face—sharp, striking, and unforgettable—made her heart stutter even as it struggled to beat. K? The thought was absurd, impossible, yet… she couldn't deny the recognition that sparked within her. It was him. The singer. The man from the stage.

Warm hands cupped her bloodied face, trembling slightly. A deep, familiar voice broke through the haze.

"Stay with me," it pleaded, raw and broken. "Don't close your eyes. Please, Mizuki. Stay." His voice was thick with emotion, laced with a desperation that mirrored her own. That voice… She knew that voice. It was the same voice that had filled the park with music, the same voice that had echoed in her dreams.

She tried to obey. She wanted to. But her body felt so heavy, so cold. Her vision blurred further, the edges of the world collapsing into darkness. Yet, she held on to the voice. It was a lifeline in the encroaching darkness.

A small, bloodied smile tugged at her lips, absurdity blooming in her fading mind. Dying to the image of a singing werewolf? That was almost funny. Almost…

Her vision faltered entirely, and the darkness crept in. But just before it consumed her completely, she heard it—a howl.

It wasn't the ferocious, angry snarl from earlier. This was something else. It was a cry of anguish, of despair so deep it felt like the earth itself had split open to swallow it whole. The sound resonated with her very soul, stirring something primal within her even as her consciousness slipped away. It was a sound of loss, of unbearable pain.

If I had another chance… she thought faintly, her mind drifting. I wouldn't let that wolf cry like this ever again. The vow formed in her heart, a silent promise whispered into the void.

And with that final vow echoing in her mind, Mizuki Wolfe succumbed to the darkness.