Daughter of the Moon

The forest was always silent in the early hours, but today it was a different kind of silence-heavy, suffocating, almost waiting. The air was thick with the scent of pine, moss, and something metallic that didn't belong. Fog clung to the ground like a whisper of ghosts, twisting through the roots of the ancient oaks and curling around fallen branches like serpents. A crow cawed in the distance, then fell silent as if it, too, sensed what lay ahead.

Aria Hale pulled her hoodie tighter around her as she moved deeper into Black Hollow Woods. Her breath came out in little puffs, visible against the chilly morning air. The sun had not yet risen, and only a dull grey light filtered through the trees. She shouldn't have been out here-not alone, not this early-but sleep had abandoned her again, and her feet had led her to the one place that always helped her think.

But today, the woods felt wrong.

She paused at the edge of the stream that wound like a silver thread through the trees, crouching to touch the cold water. It should have brought her peace. Instead, a ripple of unease crawled up her spine. That's when she smelled it.

Blood.

Not the kind from a wounded animal. No. This was sharp, iron-rich, unmistakable. Human blood.

Her heart quickened. She straightened slowly, every sense suddenly alert. The birds were gone. The usual forest chorus had gone mute. The silence screamed.

Then she saw it-a dark shape sprawled at the base of a cedar tree about thirty yards ahead.

She hesitated. Every instinct screamed to turn and run, but her feet moved forward before her mind could stop them. Her boots crunched softly against the frost-covered leaves. The smell grew stronger, cloying, sticking to the back of her throat.

The body belonged to a man.

He was middle-aged, dressed in a park ranger's uniform, and his throat had been ripped open. Blood soaked the ground around him, glistening darkly in the pale light. His eyes were still open, wide and frozen in terror.

Aria clamped a hand over her mouth.

Then she heard it-the snap of a branch behind her.

She spun around, heart hammering. Nothing. Just trees, shadows, fog.

She took a step back, then another, trying not to look at the body again. Her mind raced. Should she call the police? Her phone was in her pocket, but her hands were shaking too much to grab it.

Another crack. Closer this time.

Then, out of the mist, a shape emerged.

It was large, too large for any normal animal. At first glance, she thought it might be a bear, but then it stepped forward-and she saw eyes. Bright, intelligent, burning like molten gold.

A wolf.

But wolves didn't grow that big.

Its fur was black as midnight, darker than the shadows it moved through, and it rippled with muscle beneath the thick coat. It stared at her, motionless, head tilted slightly as if studying her. Judging.

Aria froze. Her breath caught. The wolf wasn't snarling. It didn't attack. It simply watched.