Celina’s POV
THE CITY skyline didn’t look like itself that night.
Steel towers usually gleamed like silver teeth against the horizon, but tonight every reflection was bathed in red. The rare blood moon had risen, spilling its light across glass and stone until the metropolis looked like it was soaked in fresh blood. Even the air felt different—thicker, charged, humming with something primal that pressed against my chest like an invisible hand.
I stood on the balcony of Lucien’s penthouse, clutching the railing, staring out at a city I suddenly didn’t recognize.
The moon was supposed to be beautiful. Romantic even. Poets wrote sonnets about it, lovers made wishes under it. But this wasn’t that kind of moon. This was the kind that split wolves from their reason, that thinned the walls be
