Night descended with a heaviness that seemed to charge the air with foreboding. The red moon, large and commanding, rose over the horizon like an all-seeing eye, casting the academy in a crimson glow. Every corner seemed to breathe danger.
Aisha slipped past the academy fence with quick movements, avoiding curious glances. Her mind spun around the amulet Falco had given her. She had searched for answers, but all she found was frustration—and a void that seemed to tighten in her chest with every step.
She headed toward the abandoned bath area, hoping to find some hidden clue in the shadows. But the silence that enveloped the place was overwhelming, and answers felt out of reach.
"Looking for something, pretty eyes?" a familiar voice asked behind her.
Aisha turned quickly to find Sanathiel Rodrigo leaning against a concrete bench with his usual carefree expression. His golden eyes glowed under the moonlight, but this time there was something different in them—a mix of curiosity and something deeper she couldn't decipher.
"You again?" Aisha replied coldly, trying to stay composed.
Sanathiel stepped toward her, his presence as imposing as ever.
"We still have a conversation pending," he said softly, though his tone carried an edge of command. "Let's make a deal."
"What do you want from me, Rodrigo?" Aisha looked at him with distrust, folding her arms to hide the trembling in her hands.
"What do I want?" he repeated, his smile twisting with irony. "To know who you really are."
Without warning, Sanathiel grabbed her wrist—not violently, but firmly. His fingers burned against her skin, as if trying to leave an invisible mark. Aisha didn't pull away, but her breathing grew erratic.
"Tell me, Aisha. What are you really?"
A shiver ran down her spine. Her instincts screamed that he knew more than he let on, but she couldn't afford to let her mask fall.
"And if I don't want a deal? What will you do?" she asked with a defiant tone that barely concealed her unease. "Turn me in to the Council of Thirteen?"
Sanathiel laughed, though his eyes remained serious.
"You think I'm on their side? You're more wrong than I thought."
He pulled a purple envelope from his backpack and waved it in front of her like a trophy.
"I have something better than your secrets," he whispered. "The truth always leans in my favor."
Aisha pressed her lips together, her gaze fixed on the envelope. The tension between them thickened, and for a moment, silence said more than any word.
"Why do you follow me, Rodrigo?" she finally asked, her voice softer, almost a whisper.
Sanathiel released her but left her with a final, intent-filled glance.
"Because you interest me, Aisha. More than you're willing to admit."
"You're not serious… We both have eyes watching us everywhere, wolf," Aisha responded coldly.
The Red Moon Mission
The memory of that conversation with her father struck her like distant thunder. Aisha could feel the cold of Darían's office again, his indifferent gaze as he pushed the documents in front of her.
"Sign, Aisha," he had ordered without lifting his eyes from the papers. "The mission must be completed."
"The red moon? This is suicide," she had replied, disbelief heavy in her voice.
Darían finally looked up, his dark eyes brimming with impatience.
"There's no time for doubt. If you don't follow through, there'll be consequences for all of us. Keep this in mind: sacrifices are the currency of power, daughter. Either you make them, or you become one."
Aisha knew he wasn't lying. She had seen him sacrifice everything for his own interests—even the people he claimed to protect. Her hands had trembled when signing the document, the weight of her decision crushing her like a stone slab.
"Just another pawn in your game, aren't I?" she had whispered, but Darían didn't even blink.
The Dance Beneath the Red Moon:
Back in the present, the box Rodrigo had given her contained a white dress—simple yet elegant, a stark contrast to the oppressive atmosphere of the academy. The delicate fabric against her fingers sent a wave of conflicted thoughts crashing into her. She knew she shouldn't trust him, but the way he maneuvered things always pushed her to the edge, forcing her to play along.
When she finally entered the hall, Rodrigo was there, waiting with his usual air of relaxed confidence. This time, though, there was something in his gaze that disarmed her—a mix of defiance and something deeper, a shadow of genuine interest she couldn't ignore.
He held her hand firmly, his fingers wrapping around hers like an anchor, keeping her trapped. His closeness felt suffocating, yet the warmth of his touch stirred something within her—whether fear or dangerous curiosity, she couldn't tell.
"Bad memories, Aisha?" Rodrigo asked, his voice soft but laced with meaning, his golden eyes studying her as if trying to unravel her.
She took a deep breath, trying to steady her pounding heart.
"No—answer me," she said, her voice steadier than she expected. "Why choose me?"
Rodrigo gave a smile that blended admiration with challenge.
"Because you and I are not so different," he replied, his voice low and direct. "I know you can make the impossible, possible."
The words echoed in Aisha's mind, and for a moment, she felt like he understood her in a way no one else had. But that thought was dangerous—a seductive illusion she couldn't afford. The tension between them wasn't just attraction; it was a struggle, a constant battle for control.
The mention of Sanathiel, the "white wolf," lingered in the back of her thoughts, tangling her emotions in a whirlwind that left her teetering on the edge of something inevitable.
"Wolf… let's make this scene believable for those watching us. Let's plan your death," Aisha said finally, her voice cold but composed, her gaze locked with his.
Rodrigo raised an eyebrow, intrigued but amused at the same time.
"I like your predator instincts," he said with a grin as he sat beside her, his attention completely focused on Aisha. "You intrigue me."
She raised a hand to stop him when he tried to move closer.
"Let's get one thing straight, wolf," she said sharply. "Don't take my kindness for weakness."
Rodrigo chuckled softly, leaning against the wall with casual ease, though his eyes remained fixed on her.
"They sent you to kill me, and now you're going to save me. Ironic, isn't it?"
Before she could respond, he placed a box in her hands and leaned in just enough to whisper:
"Get dressed tonight, Aisha. I'll surprise you."
With those words, he vanished into the shadows, leaving Aisha with a mix of frustration and anticipation she couldn't shake.
She stared at the box warily, her thoughts spinning around everything that had just happened. She knew she couldn't avoid what was coming. That night, the red moon would shine brighter than ever—and she would be at the very center of it all.
Reluctantly, Aisha put on the dress, her mind torn between duty and fear of what was about to unfold.
When she entered the hall, all eyes turned to her. The blood moon, visible through the high windows, seemed to magnify her presence, illuminating her in a nearly ethereal glow.
Sanathiel was there, waiting. His arrogant smile and relaxed posture were familiar, but something in his eyes unsettled her—something that told her he knew exactly what she was thinking.
"You look stunning," he said, leaning close so only she could hear. "Though I can't decide if you're an angel or a demon."
Aisha looked at him coldly, though her heart beat wildly.
"Why are you doing this?" she finally asked, her tone a mixture of frustration and curiosity.
Sanathiel stepped closer, and Aisha felt her body betray her mind—a faint shiver running down her spine. She silently cursed that weakness. Then he leaned a little closer, his voice barely a whisper.
"Because I care for you, Aisha. More than I should."
Before she could respond, the tension in the hall broke.
Shadows began to move under the light of the red moon, and a dark presence filled the air.
The night was just beginning, and Aisha knew she was about to face something much bigger than she had imagined.
Clothed in white under the bloody moon, Aisha looked like an offering among beasts. Innocence in the wolf's den.