Moonlight In Ash

My alarm screams at 6:30 a.m. like it personally hates me. I smack it silent with the precision of someone who’s done this too many times. The sun’s barely dragging itself over the horizon, thin gold light slicing through the blinds like it’s auditioning for a horror movie. I groan, flop back, and stare at the ceiling. Another day. Another chance to pretend everything’s fine. The house smells like burnt toast when I drag myself out of bed. That’s my first warning something’s off. The second is my mom’s sigh. A long, heavy one floating from the kitchen. She’s sitting at the table, hair tied up, staring into space with a coffee mug she’s probably forgotten about. The toast is more black than brown. “Morning.” I mumble, snagging the half-burnt slice. “So… Dad’s not home again, huh?” She exhales sharply, eyes flicking toward me. “Of course not. He’s ‘busy.’ Always busy. Always gone.” Her tone is clipped, like each word has sharp edges. I lean against the counter, chewing carefully so I don’t break a tooth on the toast. “He’s the beta, Mom. It’s literally his job to be busy.” Her gaze narrows. “You sound just like him.” “Wow.” I say dryly, “Thank you, I’ll add that to my résumé. Professional Excuse Maker, daughter of a ghost.” She glares, but I can see the exhaustion behind it. The loneliness too. I feel that familiar pinch of guilt in my chest. The one that hits every time she vents about him. I get it. I do. But part of me resents her for making me pick sides I don’t want to pick. “I’m not mad at you.” She mutters eventually, her tone softening. “I just wish he’d… be here once in a while.” “Yeah.” I say quietly, staring at the cold toast. “Me too.” The silence stretches, awkward and heavy, until the front door opens and a familiar voice saves me. “Morning, sunshine!” Felix. My boyfriend, football player, bringer of caffeine, and, unfortunately, the only reason I haven’t thrown myself out a window this week. He grins as he steps inside, holding out a coffee cup like a peace offering. “You’re late.” I tell him. “It’s seven.” He says, sliding the cup into my hand. “You can’t be late before eight, that’s literally science.” “Science also says I’m allergic to mornings.” He snorts. “And I’m the cure, obviously.” “Bold of you to assume that.” I say, taking a long sip. It’s the perfect mix. Sweet, hot and caffeinated salvation. “You do realize your coffee privileges are the only thing keeping this relationship alive, right?” He smirks. “Then I guess I’ll just have to keep buying them.” I grin despite myself. That’s the thing about Felix. He knows when to tease and when to shut up. Most of the time. We sit at the kitchen table, and I try not to laugh when my mom gives Felix the same look she used to give me when I forgot to take the trash out. “Morning, Mrs. Reed.” He says politely. She gives him a faint smile. “Morning, Felix. You look awake. Maybe you can teach Margot how that works.” I raise my cup in salute. “Too late for that lesson. I’m a lost cause.” “Don’t say that.” Felix says, flashing me a grin. “You’re just… nocturnal.” “See? He gets me.” Mom sighs, muttering something about caffeine dependency and poor influences, then disappears into the laundry room, leaving us alone. The quiet that follows is oddly comfortable. For a minute, it’s just me and Felix and the faint hum of the fridge. Until I hear it…voices outside. Whispering. I glance out the window. Across the street, Mrs. Dwyer is talking to old Mr. Carrow, both of them looking shifty, like something scandalous just dropped. “What’s the latest from the gossip network?” Felix asks, noticing my expression. “Something about the rival pack.” I say, frowning. “Heard them say Nathan’s name.” His expression tightens. “Nathan as in Nathan Hale? The rival alpha’s son?” “Yeah.” I roll my eyes. “Apparently he’s moving through town again. Or maybe the moon told them in a dream. You know how people are.” He laughs. “You think it’s just paranoia?” “Of course it is. Every time something goes missing or the wind blows weird, everyone blames the rival pack. It’s small-town tradition. Right after baking contests and pretending we’re normal.” Felix shakes his head, but there’s a flicker of concern in his eyes. “Still… if Nathan’s around, that’s not nothing.” I wave a hand dismissively. “If he’s around, he’ll leave. Guys like him don’t stick around small towns unless they want trouble.” “Maybe he does.” I grin. “Then I’ll show him what trouble looks like.” He groans. “You’re impossible.” “I prefer ‘unapologetically spirited.’” By the time we reach school, the whispers are already bouncing through the halls. Nathan’s name again. It’s amazing how fast gossip moves. Faster than Wi-Fi and twice as annoying. Felix squeezes my hand as we walk through the main doors. “Try not to start a war before lunch, okay?” “No promises.” I mutter. We barely make it to my locker before Simon shows up. Simon—the alpha’s son, school’s resident narcissist, and professional jerk. He leans against the lockers like he’s posing for a bad teen movie. “Well, well.” He drawls, eyes flicking over me. “If it isn’t the beta’s daughter. How’s Daddy? Still hiding behind the Alpha?” My jaw tightens. “Morning to you too, Simon. Your insults get dumber every year, you know that?” He smirks. “You’re cute when you’re angry.” “And you’re ugly when you’re breathing.” I snap, slamming my locker shut. A few people nearby snicker. Simon’s smirk falters, just for a second. “Careful.” He says, stepping closer. “You don’t want to make enemies in the wrong place.” “Oh, trust me, Simon. I don’t make enemies. I just reveal who can’t handle me.” Felix appears at my side like clockwork, hand finding my arm. “Margot. Not here.” I glance at him, then back at Simon. “Relax. I’m not gonna kill him. Today.” Simon chuckles, but it’s forced now. He straightens, brushing imaginary dust off his jacket. “Watch yourself, Reed. Some people don’t like your attitude.” I flash him a smile that’s all teeth. “Guess I’ll have to buy them glasses.” He scowls, mutters something under his breath, and walks off. Felix sighs. “You really can’t help yourself, can you?” “Not when someone that punchable gets in my face.” After Simon leaves, the hallway feels quieter, but the tension clings like humidity. Felix gives me that look. The one that says he’s worried but knows better than to argue. “You’re too quick with that mouth.” He mutters. “It’s my best feature.” I say sweetly. He smirks. “One of them.” “Smooth.” I say, bumping his shoulder. “That line work on everyone or just me?” “Just you.” He says, grin softening. “Mostly because you’d deck me if I said it to someone else.” “Correct.” We start walking again, passing clusters of students whispering about Nathan and the rival pack. I tell myself it’s nothing. Just gossip. But there’s this weird weight in the air today, like the whole town’s holding its breath. By the time I sit in homeroom, I can feel it. A faint itch beneath my skin, that low hum I’ve only felt a few times before. My wolf instincts. It’s like my senses are tuned a little sharper, the air thicker and the world too still. I shake it off, forcing myself to focus on the mundane. The whiteboard, the ticking clock, the low murmur of classmates. But deep down, something’s changing. Something I can’t quite name. The year’s supposed to end quietly. Graduation, freedom and a summer before the real world. But sitting there, staring out the window at the trees bending in the wind, I get the uneasy feeling that everything’s about to shift. And as much as I want to roll my eyes at all the small-town paranoia, I can’t ignore it anymore. The whispers, the tension and the way my wolf hums under my skin like static. Something’s coming. And knowing my luck, I’ll probably be the one dumb enough to talk back to it first.