If love was a lie, I had told the worst kind.
I woke to the sound of wind rustling through the ancient oaks above us, the blood moon still hanging in the sky like a fading ember.
For a moment, I forgot where I was, why my body felt different, why there was an unfamiliar warmth pressed against my back. Then memory came flooding back, and my breath caught.
Wyatt lay beside me in the grass, one arm draped loosely over my waist, his face peaceful in sleep.
His dark hair was mussed, falling across his forehead in a way that made him look younger, more vulnerable than the commanding Alpha's heir I was used to seeing.
His mouth was slightly parted as he breathed, and I found myself memorizing every detail of this moment, the way the moonlight played across his features, the steady rise and fall of his chest, the weight of his arm around me.
My body ached in unfamiliar ways, a pleasant soreness between my legs that served as proof that last night had actually happened. It hadn't been a dream or another one of my desperate fantasies.
Wyatt Sullivan had made love to me under the blood moon, had held me like I was something precious, had whispered my name, my false name, like a prayer.
Part of me was thrilled beyond words. After eighteen years of being unwanted, unloved, barely tolerated by my own family, someone had finally chosen me. Had seen me and decided I was worth wanting.
The memory of his hands on my skin, the way he'd looked at me with such intensity, made my chest warm with a happiness I'd never experienced before.
But even as joy bloomed in my heart, guilt crept in like a poison.
He still didn't know who I was. To him, I was Red, the mysterious woman who appeared only under blood moons, who spoke in riddles and disappeared with the dawn.
He had no idea that the woman he'd just made love to was the same girl he worked beside in the archives, the cursed Beta's daughter whose existence he'd barely acknowledged for most of his life.
I was living a lie, and last night had made that lie deeper, more complicated, more painful than ever before.
The moon was beginning to fade, and I could feel the familiar tingle in my skin that meant my transformation wouldn't last much longer.
I needed to leave before my cursed form returned, before he woke up and saw me change from the beautiful woman he desired into the plain, magically repulsive girl he could barely look at.
Carefully, I lifted his arm from my waist and slipped out from under its weight. He stirred slightly but didn't wake, and I held my breath until his breathing evened out again. For a long moment, I knelt beside him in the grass, studying his sleeping face and trying to memorize every detail. When would I see him like this again? Relaxed, unguarded, not fighting against magical compulsion just to look at me? The thought made my throat tight with unshed tears.
I stood and walked quietly to the stream at the edge of the clearing, needing one last look at my transformed self before it was gone. The woman who stared back at me from the water's surface was everything I'd ever dreamed of being, beautiful, powerful, worthy of love. Her ginger hair caught the moonlight like fire, her skin glowed with health and vitality, and her dark eyes sparkled with the memory of being desired.
In a few hours, she would be gone, replaced by the cursed girl whose very appearance was designed to inspire revulsion. The girl Wyatt would have to force himself to look at during their work sessions, never knowing that she was the same person who'd trembled in his arms just hours before.
I dressed quickly and silently, leaving his jacket folded neatly beside him. Then I slipped away through the trees, my bare feet making no sound on the forest floor, my heart heavy with the weight of secrets I couldn't share. By the time I reached the edge of pack territory, my body was already beginning to change. I ducked behind a copse of trees and let the transformation take me, feeling my height diminish, my curves fade, my glorious hair return to its mousy brown plainness. When it was over, I was myself again, small, unremarkable, magically designed to be overlooked and dismissed.
I made my way home through the pre-dawn darkness, my mind churning with everything that had happened. How was I supposed to face Wyatt in the archives later today? How could I sit across from him and pretend that last night hadn't changed everything? The answer was simple: I couldn't.
When morning came, I sent word to the archives that I was feeling unwell and wouldn't be able to work today. It wasn't entirely a lie, my stomach was twisted in knots, and my heart felt like it might beat out of my chest every time I thought about seeing him again. Instead, I hid in my cramped bedroom, curled up under my thin blanket and tried to process what had happened. But the peace I'd hoped for was shattered by my family's usual cruelty.
"Still finding excuses to be useless, I see," Mom said when she found me lying down in the middle of the day. She stood in my doorway with her arms crossed, her beautiful face twisted with disgust. "What's wrong now? Too lazy to do the one job you're actually good at?" I didn't respond, just pulled the blanket higher over my head. The contrast between Wyatt's gentle touches and my mother's harsh words was almost too much to bear.
A few minutes later, Garrett walked past my open door and muttered, "Must be nice being sick when all you do is nothing anyway."
Dad, as always, said nothing at all. Didn't check on me, didn't ask if I needed anything, didn't acknowledge my existence in any way. His silence hurt more than Mom's insults or Garrett's mockery ever could. I stayed in my room all day, curled in a tight ball and trying to make sense of my conflicted emotions. Part of me wanted to run to the archives, to see Wyatt again, to study his face and try to determine if last night had meant anything to him beyond physical satisfaction. But a larger part of me was terrified of facing him, of seeing the careful politeness return to his expression when he looked at my cursed face.
Last night, I was Red, beautiful, mysterious, and desired. Today, I was just Gail Raymond again, and I didn't know if I was strong enough to bear the contrast. As evening approached and I heard the familiar sounds of my family preparing for dinner, I made a decision. I couldn't hide forever, but I could hide for a little while longer. Just until I figured out how to live with the secret that was slowly destroying me from the inside out.
The girl Wyatt had made love to under the blood moon was gone until the next crimson night. And I wasn't sure I had the courage to face him as anyone else.