Born Of Moon And Fire

CHAPTER2

The next morning, Riley stood outside The Hollow Brew, Silver Ridge’s only coffee shop, holding a worn leather notebook in one hand and her keys in the other. Her plan for the day was simple: write, drink too much caffeine, and avoid any more run-ins with intense, brooding sheriffs.

As she pushed open the door, the familiar tinkle of the bell overhead rang out, and a wave of warm aromas wrapped around her—freshly brewed coffee, cinnamon, and something faintly wild and smoky. It wasn’t just the scent of roasted beans—it was deeper, more primal, like damp moss and burning pine.

“New face,” said the barista behind the counter. She was tall and willowy, with honey-blonde curls cascading down her back and a full sleeve of tattoos twining up her arm—wildflowers, vines, and tiny moons. Her name tag read Luna.

“Let me guess,” Luna continued, smiling as she wiped her hands on a towel. “You’re the one who moved into the old cabin on Hollow Creek?”

Riley managed a half-smile. “Is it that obvious?”

Luna chuckled. “Small town. People notice. Especially when Sheriff Blackthorn pays someone a visit before breakfast.”

That made Riley pause. “Is that part of the official welcome wagon?”

“Only for the special ones.” Luna winked. “Or the ones who smell a little… different.”

Riley tilted her head. “Excuse me?”

“Your perfume,” Luna added quickly, glancing at the espresso machine. “Smells… earthy. Wild. Nice, though. Unusual.”

“I’m not wearing any perfume,” Riley said quietly, her unease returning.

Luna gave a shrug and turned to prepare her drink. “Large vanilla latte, right?”

Riley blinked. “How did you—”

“I have a gift.” Luna’s smile was cryptic. “People walk in, I just know what they need.”

Riley paid and moved to a corner table, grateful for the relative quiet. She opened her notebook, its pages filled with sketches and half-written thoughts, and tried to focus. But her mind kept drifting—back to the night before, back to Alec Blackthorn’s eyes, and back to that strange, pulsing dream that left her sweating and breathless under the moonlight.

The bell above the door jingled again.

She didn’t have to look up to know who it was. She felt him.

Sheriff Alec Blackthorn entered without the heavy weight of his uniform today—just a black jacket stretched across his broad shoulders, dark jeans, and that quiet, commanding presence that made people sit up straighter without realizing it. His boots barely made a sound on the floor, but every pair of eyes in the room flicked toward him before pretending not to look.

And then his gaze found hers.

Riley froze, heart kicking once, hard, in her chest. He walked toward her with that same measured pace as before, every movement deliberate and steady.

“I didn’t expect to see you here,” he said, voice low and calm.

She snapped her notebook closed. “It’s a coffee shop. I like coffee.”

“You should know,” he said, glancing over his shoulder before leaning in slightly, “there’s been some animal activity near Hollow Creek. If you hear anything strange at night—howls, scratching—stay inside. Lock your doors.”

Riley studied him carefully. “Do I look like the kind of girl who runs into the woods chasing scary noises?”

“I don’t know what kind of girl you are,” Alec replied, his voice velvet over stone. “But I’ve seen enough to know you’re not just passing through.”

That stopped her. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He didn’t look away. “You’re hiding something.”

Her throat tightened. “So are you.”

For a second, something flickered in his eyes—surprise? Amusement? Approval? She couldn’t tell.

“I’m not trying to scare you,” he said after a moment. “I’m trying to protect you. Silver Ridge has… boundaries. You’d be safer respecting them.”

“You always talk like this?” she asked. “In riddles?”

“Only to people who matter.”

And then, just like that, he straightened and walked away.

Luna appeared at Riley’s side a moment later, a fresh cinnamon roll in hand.

“On the house,” she said, setting it down gently. “You’re gonna need something sweet after that.”

Riley didn’t touch it. “Does he always do that? Walk into a room like he owns it?”

Luna smirked. “Alec Blackthorn doesn’t try to own things. He just does. It’s the way of alphas.”

Riley blinked. “Alpha?”

“Figure of speech.” But Luna didn’t meet her eyes.

“What’s his deal?” Riley asked. “Why does it feel like he’s always… watching?”

“Because he is,” Luna said simply. “He watches everything. But he sees you.”

Riley shivered. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” Luna said, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, “he’s not the only one waking up.”

That night, Riley couldn’t sleep. Again.

The dreams came back—but sharper this time, brighter. She was running through the forest, skin bare, hair wild, her heartbeat in sync with the rhythm of the earth. There was no fear, only purpose. The wind whispered her name, and shadows shifted ahead of her. Golden eyes glowed in the dark, waiting—not chasing, but calling.

She stumbled into a clearing.

There he was.

Alec.

Not the sheriff. Not the man. Something older. Wilder. His shirt was gone, his chest broad and heaving, eyes glowing in the darkness like an animal’s. His voice echoed—not words, but something deeper, from bone and soul.

“Mine.”

Riley jolted awake, chest heaving.

Her window was wide open. She was sure—positive—she’d closed it. Moonlight filtered through the trees outside, silver and haunting. And in the distance, a howl rose into the air—long, fierce, familiar.

Too close.