Tasha's POV
The morning was different, though Tasha couldn't quite put her finger on how.
It wasn't anything obvious, not a sharp drop in temperature or the heavy hush that rolls in before a thunderstorm. It was subtler, insidious. Something in the way the air pressed against her skin as she stirred awake, the way her thoughts felt heavier, denser, as if they'd been dipped in tar during the night.
Fragments of a dream clung stubbornly to her mind, dissolving even as she tried to catch them. She remembered flashing eyes glowing gold in the dark, too bright, too alive to belong to any human. A forest swallowing her in its endless branches, the taste of iron in the air as she ran not walked, not explored fled. And a voice. A low, gravelly voice that coiled around her spine like smoke. It had said something words she couldn't hold onto yet her skin still prickled as if the syllables had been branded there.
Her temples throbbed in protest. With a groan, Tasha sat up and buried her palms into her brow, trying to rub away the ache. The dream had been too vivid, as though it wasn't imagined at all but remembered.
Get over it.
It's just a dream.
She swung her legs over the side of the bed, stretching the stiffness from her shoulders, her gaze darting automatically to the clock.
Her stomach dropped."Crap."
I'm running late... Again.
The ordinary panic of rushing through a morning routine tugged her mind back toward reality. She pulled on jeans and a shirt in record time, wrestled her hair into a messy ponytail, and bounded down the stairs two at a time.
The scent hit her first warm, bitter, grounding. Coffee. Her mother's morning ritual. The familiarity should've calmed her, but something about it only reminded her how unfamiliar everything else felt.
Her mother sat at the kitchen counter, fingers curved tightly around a mug, gaze lost somewhere beyond the window. The sight was almost domestic, almost peaceful except for the way her knuckles whitened against the ceramic, and the unnatural stillness that clung to her shoulders.
"Morning," Tasha muttered, grabbing an apple from the counter and sinking her teeth into it.
Her mother turned, face breaking into a smile that looked… rehearsed. "Morning, sweetheart. Slept well?"
Tasha hesitated mid-bite, chewing slowly, thoughtfully. "Yeah. I guess. Had weird dreams, though."
Her mother's expression flickered. Barely noticeable. But it was there. A tightening around her mouth. A shadow sweeping behind her eyes. Concern? Anxiety? Fear?
"Weird how?"
Tasha shrugged like it didn't matter. "I don't know. Just… strange."
Her mom nodded, too quickly, like she was agreeing with something else entirely. Her face remained guarded, polite.
Tasha frowned. "Are you okay? You seem… distracted."
Her mother gave a soft laugh too soft, too fake. "Just thinking about work. Deadlines, designs, the same old stress."
Tasha tilted her head, unconvinced. She'd seen her mom stressed plenty of times before. That didn't make her stare out the window like she was watching for something. That didn't make her cling to a coffee cup like it was a lifeline.
Something was off.
She wanted to push, to demand answers, but before she could, her mom's voice shifted, brisker.
"Oh, I almost forgot. Mina's father called this morning. He invited us to dinner tonight."
That pulled her up short. "Really? He never does that."
"I know." Her mom took a long sip of coffee, not meeting her eyes. "Mina asked me if I could drop you off at their house on my way to work. You'll spend the day with her before dinner."
The words should've sounded casual. Harmless. But a knot formed in Tasha's stomach. Her mom's strange behavior. Now Mina's dad, suddenly inviting them for a family dinner? Too many oddities piling on top of each other.
Still, she just muttered, "Okay."
Because maybe a day with Mina would anchor her. Maybe she'd stop feeling like the world was shifting under her feet.
Mina's POV
The second Tasha stepped inside, Mina grabbed her wrist and pulled her upstairs, shutting the bedroom door behind them.
"Okay," Mina said, pacing. "Something weird is going on."
Tasha raised an eyebrow and flopped onto the bed. "No kidding."
"My dad called me into his office last night," Mina continued, gesturing wildly. "He gave this whole speech about 'changes' and 'embracing who I am.' I swear, it was like some cult initiation."
Tasha blinked. "Changes? What kind of changes?"
"That's the thing!" Mina collapsed beside her, groaning. "He never spelled it out. Just kept saying things will be 'different soon,' that my feelings will be stronger, that I'll start to see things I can't understand."
Tasha's stomach twisted. "That's… weird."
"Exactly! And you know what's even weirder? My dad's a doctor. Mr. Rational Science Guy. He doesn't do mysterious mumbo-jumbo. So why's he suddenly acting like some fortune-teller?"
Tasha chewed on her lip. "My mom's been acting weird too."
Mina's head snapped toward her. "How?"
"She was just… staring out the window this morning. Zoned out. And when I mentioned my dream, she stiffened like I'd said something I shouldn't."
"Wait. What dream?"
Tasha hesitated. Saying it aloud felt dangerous. But Mina was staring, so she forced the words out. "I don't remember most of it. Just… golden eyes. And running through the woods."
Mina snorted. "Well, you do read too much supernatural crap. Maybe your brain's just recycling it."
Tasha laughed, but it rang hollow. "Yeah. Maybe."
But inside, doubt gnawed at her.
Doctor Hayes Office
Downstairs, Mina's father, Dr. Aaron Hayes, sat behind his desk, fingers steepled, gaze heavy on the papers scattered before him. None of the words registered. His thoughts were elsewhere on Mina.
Her eighteenth birthday loomed, a milestone that had always carried weight in their world. Three days later, Tasha would also turn eighteen.
Two girls. Two possibilities. One prophecy.
Which one of them was the destined Luna?
Mina was half-human, half-werewolf. He didn't know whether she would transform at all. She could remain fully human, like her mother. But if she did change…
He rubbed his temples, sighing. How did one prepare their child for something she didn't even believe in?
And then there was Tasha.
If she wasn't the one meant to awaken, then she'd continue living blissfully unaware. But if she was… Everything would change.
Tasha Mom's POV
In her own room, Tasha's mother opened a drawer and pulled out a small vial. The liquid shimmered faintly, swirling in hypnotic patterns.
Her fingers trembled around it.
The witch had given it to her years ago. A failsafe. A way to keep Tasha unaware, to cloud her senses if she drew too close to the truth too soon.
If Mina transformed, Tasha would see. The potion would blur her perception, keep her from understanding. Protect her, at least for a little longer.
But using it made her stomach churn. She'd lied to her daughter for years, carved silence into their lives until it became second nature. Would Tasha ever forgive her?
She tightened her grip. Forgiveness didn't matter. Survival did. If the prophecy was true, if Tasha really was the one, then ignorance was the only shield she had left.
Back Upstairs
The girls forced normalcy into the day. They watched movies, played games, and laughed too loudly at stupid jokes. But under the surface, tension simmered.
Mina noticed the way her father lingered in the doorway, watching her with unreadable eyes.
Tasha noticed the way her mom's hand lingered on her shoulder before leaving, as if she wanted to say something but swallowed the words.
And both of them felt it that heavy, electric shift.
Something was coming.
Neither of them would leave this week the same.