Whispers of the Moon

ena Hart sat on the windowsill of her tiny cabin on the edge of town, staring out at the dark woods. Her heart had been une

ve. Yet, she never felt afraid. Instead, a strange comfort filled her, as if she knew the predator wouldn't harm her. Tonig

ed her shawl tightly around her shoulders and stepped out. The gravel path lead

venturing alone, or Mrs Calloway, her nosy neighbour who loved gossiping about Selena's solitary ha

l hoot of an owl. But as she ventured deeper, the noises faded, replaced by an eerie silenc

ommand the air around him. The moonlight caught in his dark hair, and his stance was tense as if he were

tur

e-a piercing amber that seemed to glow faintly in the dark. He looked at her as if he'd known her forever, b

he said, his voice deep

e wavered slightly. She tried to sound confident, but t

le, but the tension in his posture didn't eas

ere my whole life. I think I'd know if

ees. Selena froze, her blood turning cold. It wasn't like the howls

, his movements fluid and

she asked, her voi

s jaw tightening

onvincing. She turned and hurried back down the path, glancing over he

it, her heart racing. Who was he? And why did she feel like

were sharper, more vivid. The wolf with golden eyes stood before her, but its form shifted, melting into the man from

as clear: her life in Silverpine was no longer the quiet, uneventful existence she'd

her to be afraid or exh