The last thing Claire Reynolds expected to hear on her late-night drive home was a howl.
Not the playful bark of a neighborhood dog or the lonely call of a distant coyote—no, this was something else entirely. Low. Deep. It trembled through the air like a shiver crawling over skin, and for a brief, ridiculous moment, Claire thought it had vibrated through her bones.
She tightened her grip on the steering wheel and squinted through the windshield. The headlights carved two pale lines into the mist curling over the road ahead. Eldergrove was usually sleepy at night, a place where the most dangerous thing you might encounter was a deer wandering too close to the pavement. But lately, something had shifted. Disappearances. Strange sightings. Whispers exchanged across grocery aisles and diner booths when people thought no one was listening.
Claire had been listening.
She always listened, because there was comfort in knowing what might be lurking in the dark.
Even if you didn't want to believe it.
Another howl cut through the night, closer this time.
Claire's heart slammed against her ribs.
"Probably just a wolf," she muttered to herself, though wolves hadn't been seen this close to town in decades. She pressed the gas pedal a little harder. Only a few more minutes and she'd be home, safe inside her small rented cottage tucked at the edge of the forest.
The road curved sharply, disappearing into a tangle of trees. Claire flicked on her high beams.
And that's when she saw it.
A flash of something—no, someone—darting across the road. Tall. Dark. Moving faster than any human should.
Claire gasped and slammed on the brakes. The tires screeched in protest, the car fishtailing wildly before it shuddered to a halt just inches from the tree line. Her chest heaved. Her palms were slick on the steering wheel.
For a few seconds, there was only silence.
Then—movement. A figure stepping from the shadows.
Claire's breath caught in her throat.
It was a man, she thought—at least, he looked like a man. Tall and broad-shouldered, dressed in dark clothes that seemed almost part of the night itself. His hair was black, disheveled, and his eyes... God, his eyes. They caught the light from her headlights and gleamed, not red like an animal's, but a piercing, unnatural silver.
He stood there, unmoving, watching her. Like he was debating something. Like he knew her.
Claire couldn't move. Couldn't look away. Fear and fascination warred inside her.
Finally, the man gave a small nod, almost like a salute, and turned, melting back into the trees without a sound.
Claire sat there for a long moment, heart hammering in her ears.
She should drive away. Call someone. Tell herself she imagined it.
Instead, she found herself unlocking the door and stepping out into the night.
The forest loomed before her, dense and whispering. The mist coiled at her ankles, cool and damp. Somewhere deep within, a branch cracked, and the last traces of common sense screamed at her to get back in the car.
She hesitated, glancing down the path where the stranger had vanished. The smart thing to do was forget this ever happened. Eldergrove had enough ghost stories without her adding another.
But then she heard it again—a whisper, softer this time. Not a howl. Not even a voice. Just... a feeling. Like the forest itself was calling her name.
Claire shivered and hurried back into her car, locking the doors with trembling fingers. She didn't look back as she sped the rest of the way home.
Her cottage was small, but cozy—an old stone fireplace, overstuffed armchairs, shelves packed with veterinary textbooks and worn paperbacks. Safe. Familiar.
Tonight, it felt too quiet.
Claire set her keys on the kitchen counter and moved to the window, peering out into the darkness. The forest stretched behind her house, the same forest where she'd spent countless afternoons as a child, climbing trees and pretending she was an explorer uncovering ancient secrets.
Now it felt like the forest was watching her back.
She tried to shake it off. Maybe she was overtired. Between her internship at the town's animal clinic and cramming for exams, sleep had been more of a suggestion than a reality lately.
Still, when she finally crawled into bed, she locked the bedroom door and pulled the covers up to her chin like a child warding off nightmares.
Sleep came fitfully, full of restless dreams.
Silver eyes.
The whisper of trees.
And the aching, unexplainable certainty that something—someone—was waiting for her beyond the edge of the light.
Morning came with rain tapping against the windows and a heavy gray sky pressing down on Eldergrove. Claire dragged herself through breakfast, her mind stuck in a fog.
At the clinic, the day unfolded in a blur of fur, paws, and worried pet owners. She bandaged a beagle's sprained leg, helped deliver a litter of squealing kittens, and spent most of lunch scribbling notes about canine cardiac conditions.
By the time she finished her shift, the encounter from the night before felt distant. Blurry. Maybe it had just been some late-night jogger or a trick of the headlights.
Maybe.
Claire was almost convinced—until she stepped out into the parking lot and saw him.
Leaning casually against the hood of an old black motorcycle, helmet dangling from one hand, was the man from the road.
Lucian.
She didn't know his name yet. Didn't know anything about him except that he made her heart stutter painfully in her chest.
Except that the moment she looked into those silver eyes, the world shifted beneath her feet.
He straightened slowly as she approached, every movement fluid and controlled, like a predator sizing up its prey. His gaze never left hers.
For a heartbeat, neither of them spoke.
Then he said, voice low and rough like gravel, "You shouldn't wander the woods alone, Claire."
She froze. How did he know her name?
"Who are you?" she managed, hating how shaky her voice sounded.
His lips curved into a faint, humorless smile.
"No one you should trust."
Without another word, he swung his leg over the motorcycle, revved the engine, and tore out of the parking lot, leaving Claire standing there with her heart in her throat and a thousand questions burning on her tongue.
She watched him vanish down the road, rain beginning to fall harder around her, and knew two things for certain.
One: she wasn't imagining things.
Two: her life was about to change forever.
And somewhere deep inside her—beneath the fear, beneath the logic—something wild and ancient stirred. Something that recognized him before her mind could.
The moon would rise again soon.
And when it did, nothing in Eldergrove would ever be the same.