The Moon Between Us

Chapter 6

Tyler’s bike growled to life, the sound rolling down the driveway like a promise of more mysteries. I lingered on the porch, watching until the black silhouette disappeared over the rise. Sage leaned against the doorframe.

“Go on inside,” she said softly. “You need sleep.”

I obeyed, dragging my feet up the stairs. My room was dim, familiar, but my mind refused to settle.

When I finally closed my eyes, the dream came fast and vivid.

Shadowy figures swirled in the corners of an endless gray space. I could hear faint whispers, voices speaking in a language I didn’t recognize. And then, he appeared.

A boy, tall and impossibly lean, with piercing, almost luminous eyes that glinted red in the shadows. Fangs caught the faint light when he smiled, sharp and menacing, but somehow alluring.

And there was Tyler. He stood nearby, tense, rigid, as though he were guarding—or challenging—the other boy. The air between them crackled with something I couldn’t name, an intensity that made my chest ache.

I woke with a start, heart racing, the shadows of the dream clinging to my vision like smoke.

Morning came slowly. Sage had breakfast ready: toast, scrambled eggs, and coffee she insisted I try. We both grabbed slices of toast, jammed them in our mouths, and practically ran out the door.

Sage climbed into the driver’s seat of her old pickup, the engine roaring to life. I buckled in quickly, still chewing. “Almost late,” she muttered, backing out of the driveway.

The truck rattled down the road, windows down to catch the crisp morning air. The scenery blurred—fields, distant woods, and the familiar, worn signs of Blackpine town.

The school day dragged in its usual fashion. Classrooms, lectures, the dull hum of high school life. Nothing felt threatening, nothing unusual… until lunch.

We were halfway through peeling sandwiches when Tyler appeared, sliding into the empty spot next to Sage and me. My stomach did that nervous flip again, though I tried to ignore it.

“Mind if I join?” he asked casually.

Sage shrugged. “Go ahead.”

I barely looked up at him before my attention was drawn elsewhere. Across the cafeteria, a boy leaned casually against a table, watching the crowd like he belonged everywhere but nowhere. Something about him made my stomach tighten, though I couldn’t place why. His eyes—dark, but with that glint of red at the edges—and the faint, predatory tilt of his smile made my pulse stutter.

Sage nodded toward him without a word. “That’s Alaric,” she said, almost offhandedly.

Alaric. I filed the name away, but something didn’t click. He looked familiar in a way I couldn’t explain.

The final bell rang, and the halls emptied into a chorus of footsteps and locker slams. Outside, the sky had darkened, clouds swollen with rain, the first drops spattering against the asphalt.

As Sage and I walked toward her truck, I noticed them—faint, flickering shapes at the edges of the lot. Shadowy figures, just barely visible, moving unnaturally, like the light itself didn’t want to touch them. My stomach clenched.

I leaned toward Sage, whispering, “What are those things?”

Sage glanced at me, her expression neutral. “What things?”

I opened my mouth to argue, to demand an answer, but before I could, a boy stepped out from behind a row of cars, his eyes locking onto mine. Tall, sharp-featured, and commanding attention in a way that made the hair on my arms rise.

“You’re… Alaric, right?” I asked, the words barely leaving my lips.

He gave a small, knowing smile. “That’s me. And you are…?”

“Elara,” I said, trying to steady my voice.

He stepped closer, and I instinctively stepped back. The air around him felt charged, like the static before a storm.

Before anything else could happen, Tyler appeared from the edge of the lot, voice low but sharp. “Back off, Price.”

Alaric raised his hands, his smirk still faint, the amusement in his eyes obvious. “See you around, Miss Elara,” he said, and then, with a fluid motion, he retreated toward the shadows at the edge of the parking lot.

Tyler’s gaze followed him, tense and unwavering. “Don’t follow him,” he muttered.

Sage tugged on my arm, her tone casual, though I could feel the weight behind it. “Come on, before the rain gets worse,” she said.

As we climbed into the truck, the first real drops of rain streaking the windshield, I kept thinking about Alaric, the shadows, and the strange tension between Tyler and him. Sage didn’t say a word about it, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that something important was being kept from me.

The truck rattled down the wet roads, tires hissing over puddles, the rain streaking the windshield. I kept my eyes glued to the blurred trees and rooftops outside, but I couldn’t stop thinking about the shadowy figures and the boy who had appeared in the parking lot.

“Sage,” I said quietly, trying to keep my voice steady, “what were those things? The shadows… the figures?”

I can see her trying to brush me off already. She takes a deep breath, but I talk before her.

“And don’t just say you don’t know. You clearly know something that I don’t know.” I blurt out.

Sage kept her eyes on the road, her hands firm on the wheel. There was a pause, a careful edge. “There’s a lot to know… and very little time to explain it all.”

My stomach twisted. “And… the boy? Alaric… why did Tyler tell him to back off? Why shouldn’t I—why shouldn’t I go near him?”

Sage glanced at me briefly, her expression unreadable. “Elara… he’s not someone you should be worrying about. Not yet. Just… stay close to me, okay?”

I looked down at my hands, feeling useless. The memory of Alaric’s intense eyes, his faint smirk, the way he had appeared almost out of nowhere—it wouldn’t leave me. He had been watching me, waiting, and it made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.

The shadows lingered in my mind. Their edges flickered and warped, like smoke caught in a storm. I could see shapes in them—arms, legs, movement—but no faces. They felt alive. Menacing. Watching.

I tried to ignore it, tried to focus on the soft patter of rain on the roof of the truck, but my pulse wouldn’t slow. Tyler’s presence in the lot, the protective edge in his voice, and the tension between him and Alaric… it was all spinning around in my mind.

Sage didn’t say another word until we pulled into the driveway, the old rickety house looming under the gray sky. “Inside,” she said softly. “You’re going to want to dry off and get warm. We’ll talk more later… there’s time.”

I stepped out of the truck, soaked through, shivering, but my eyes kept drifting toward the lot’s shadows as if I could see them still lurking there. Alaric’s face flickered in my mind—just a glimpse, just enough to make me uneasy. Then it hit me. He was the boy in my dream. The one with the fangs. The one Tyler was challenging.

It was Alaric.