Bangkok mornings were loud, messy, human - exactly how Sky Wongravee liked them.
Motorbikes roared through traffic. Vendors yelled over sizzling oil. Somewhere, a temple bell rang - soft and calm amid the chaos.
Sky blended into it all perfectly.
Black T-shirt. Faded jeans. A scar across his forearm from a battle no human would believe.
He wasn't supposed to exist anymore - the last of the Wongravee bloodline, direct descendant of the Moon Guardians. But he'd learned long ago that survival wasn't about destiny. It was about knowing when to keep your head down and when to hit first.
Right now, he preferred coffee.
---
He sat at a cramped street café, scrolling through job listings on his cracked phone. Bodyguard work. Private security. Anything that kept him moving, away from questions.
His reflection in the shop window caught the morning sun - golden eyes, the kind that made people look twice. He blinked, and they turned brown again.
"Still hiding the wolf eyes, are we?"
The voice made him sigh before he looked up.
Felix.
Black hair sticking up, half a sandwich in one hand, a pile of student papers in the other.
"Morning, Professor Disaster," Sky muttered.
"Rude," Felix said cheerfully, plopping down across from him. "I educate the youth. Both human and witch. You're welcome, world."
"You corrupt the youth," Sky corrected. "You literally taught your night class how to charm a traffic cop."
"And did it work?"
"Unfortunately, yes."
Felix grinned, satisfied.
The witch was chaos wrapped in a cardigan. By day, he taught history at a local school. By night, he trained young witches and warlocks in secret. And somehow, between spell mishaps and caffeine, he kept Sky alive - mostly.
---
"So," Felix said between bites. "Still pretending you're normal?"
"I am normal," Sky replied.
"You punched a vampire last week."
"He asked for my number."
"Sky, he was a child of the council."
"Then he should've known better."
Felix groaned. "One day you're going to pick a fight with the wrong leech."
Sky shrugged, finishing his coffee. "If they're breathing, I can handle it."
Felix lowered his voice, glancing around. "You've felt it too, right? The pull?"
Sky froze.
"What pull?"
"The one in your chest. The Moonfire stirring again. You think I don't notice? You've been restless for weeks."
Sky's jaw tightened. He didn't answer.
Felix sighed, softer now.
"The last time the air felt like this, your ancestors went to war."
"And look how that ended," Sky said sharply. "Maybe if the Supreme hadn't murdered half the clans-"
Felix cut in gently. "Sky. That was centuries ago."
"And he's still alive," Sky muttered, eyes hard. "While the rest of my family rotted in the dirt."
A beat of silence.
Even Felix didn't joke after that.
---
Finally, the witch cleared his throat, forcing brightness back into his voice.
"Well, lucky for you, I found you a job."
"Not another one of your 'teach defense magic to kids' gigs, I hope."
"Nope. Security work. Big client. Pays disgustingly well."
"And the catch?"
"The employer's... complicated." Felix hesitated, eyes darting away.
"Complicated how?"
"As in - you might wanna practice your poker face."
Sky frowned, leaning back. "You're being weird. Who is it?"
Felix gave a small, nervous smile.
"Hirunkit International. They're hiring new elite protection personnel."
Sky blinked once.
Then laughed - low and humorless.
"You're kidding."
"I never joke about money."
"You're sending me to work for them? The Supreme's company?"
"Technically, it's his human front," Felix said carefully. "You won't even see him. Probably."
Sky leaned forward, eyes narrowing.
"You know I hate vampires."
"I know you hate being broke more," Felix countered.
Sky's mouth twitched. He hated that Felix had a point.
---
Felix stood, brushing crumbs off his coat.
"Think of it this way. Maybe this time, the wolf gets to bite the hand that feeds it."
Sky chuckled, though his chest felt strangely heavy.
"You're insane."
"Certified."
As Felix walked away, Sky watched the morning sky - bright, cloudless, innocent.
But beneath his skin, the old power hummed again - the same pull he'd been denying for weeks. A warmth spreading from the mark over his heart.
He pressed his palm over it.
"The hell's happening to me..." he muttered.
Somewhere in the distance, a thunderclap echoed - faint but sharp, though the skies were clear.
And far above, inside a mirrored tower, a certain Supreme Vampire looked up from his desk - eyes flashing red for just a moment, as if he'd heard something calling him back.
---
Night fell heavy over the northern hills.
The air was too still - no crickets, no wind, only the faint hum of something wrong.
Sky stood at the edge of the forest, shirt half-unbuttoned, hands clenched at his sides. He'd ditched his jacket miles back when the pull started - a low, thrumming burn behind his ribs, the kind that only meant one thing.
Trouble.
He inhaled deeply. The scent was faint but sharp - blood and smoke. Human blood.
And something else beneath it. Feral. Metallic.
"Rogues," he muttered, his voice low and grim.
A rogue wolf was a tragedy - a pack member who'd lost their mind to hunger or grief. But lately, there were too many. Something was driving them mad.
And if the vampires noticed, they'd use it as an excuse to start another war.
Sky closed his eyes, letting the silence sink into him. The pulse under his skin shifted - slower, deeper.
Then he whispered,
"Moonlight, guide me."
Silver light bloomed beneath his feet, tracing thin lines across the ground like living veins. His heartbeat synced with the rhythm of the forest, every sound sharpening, every scent unfolding.
His canines lengthened. The golden glow returned to his eyes - brighter now, almost blinding.
In the distance, three figures moved between the trees, wild and erratic - rogues, their bodies twisted, fur patchy, eyes red with rage.
They snarled when they saw him.
Sky didn't flinch.
"You've gone too far into the dark," he said softly. "I can't bring you back."
The first rogue lunged. He sidestepped easily, catching it mid-strike and slamming it into the dirt with supernatural strength. The second came from behind - claws slicing air - but Sky's reflexes were faster. A flash of silver light burst from his hand, burning a mark into the creature's chest.
It screamed, then went still.
The last rogue hesitated, whimpering like it recognized him. Sky's voice softened.
"Go home," he whispered. "If you still remember where that is."
The creature fled into the woods.
When the silence returned, Sky exhaled slowly, shoulders heavy.
The light faded from his skin, leaving only sweat and exhaustion.
---
He crouched beside one of the fallen rogues, checking its pulse - gone. Its veins were darkened, not from madness, but poison.
"Silver?" he murmured, frowning. "No... something else."
He glanced at the bite marks - clean, deliberate. Not wolf.
Not human either.
A low growl escaped his throat.
"Vampires."
He stood, the night wind tugging at his hair.
It wasn't just rogue infection anymore.
Someone was creating them.
---
Elsewhere - In the Shadow of the Pack
Word would spread by morning.
The Moonlight Guardian had walked again.
Every pack had their myths - stories of a guardian born under the full moon, chosen by the goddess herself. A being whose power existed beyond the hierarchy, above Alpha, Beta, and Omega.
Protector. Judge. Balance.
They said when the Guardian appeared, it meant the world was tipping.
But few still believed - until they saw the silver glow that night from the hilltops. Until they felt the ripple in the air that made every wolf kneel instinctively, bowing their heads toward the unseen.
The Guardian of the Moonlight lived.
And he was angry.
---
Returning to the City
By dawn, Sky was back in human form, a hood pulled low as he walked through the empty streets.
His hands were still faintly trembling - not from fear, but from holding back. His control was slipping faster than he liked.
Felix had been right - the Moonfire inside him was stirring again.
And that terrified him more than the rogues.
He paused outside a convenience store, staring at his reflection in the glass. The same golden eyes flashed back - brief, almost imperceptible.
"You're supposed to keep the balance," he muttered to himself. "So why does it feel like the whole world's falling apart?"
He rubbed the scar over his heart - the mark of his bloodline. It pulsed once, faintly warm, like something had answered him.
"Not now," he muttered. "You stay quiet."
He tugged his jacket closed, hiding the faint shimmer beneath the fabric.
The street was empty, just the hum of flickering lights and the distant growl of the city. Sky scanned the shadows - a soldier's habit, instinctive, sharp - before slipping his hood back on.
The world thought the Wongravee line was long gone.
He intended to keep it that way.
As far as anyone was concerned, he wasn't Sky Wongravee - Guardian of the Moonlight, last of an extinct bloodline.
He was Sky Nateetorn now.
Ex-soldier. Freelancer. Just another man trying to pay rent.
He preferred it that way.
The less the world knew, the longer he could protect it.
Above, thunder rumbled again - soft, distant, though the skies were clear.
Sky paused, looking up.
"Guess even the gods can't sleep tonight," he murmured.
Then he walked away, disappearing into the crowd as morning broke over the city - unaware that fate had already drawn a line between him and the one name he swore he'd never cross paths with.
Hirunkit Holdings.