The Moon Between Us

Chapter 3

I woke to the quiet creak of floorboards and the faint hiss of steam. The room smelled faintly of cedar and something sweet—chai, maybe. My body ached in ways I didn’t know were possible, like I’d been hit by a truck and then dragged behind it for good measure.

Blinking against the soft morning light, I shifted under the quilt. That’s when I saw him.

A tall figure leaned in the corner, arms crossed, watching me like I was some puzzle he’d been trying to solve for a while. The shadows clung to him in an almost deliberate way, catching in the sharp lines of his jaw, the mess of dark hair falling over his forehead.

Before I could ask who he was, Sage’s voice broke the stillness.

“You’re awake,” she said, relief warming her tone. She crossed the room with a mug in hand, setting it on the nightstand beside me. The sweet-spice smell rose up immediately—chai tea, exactly how I liked it.

Then, with a quick glance toward the shadowed corner, she said, “Elara, this is Tyler Blackwell.”

The stranger straightened, uncrossing his arms. His eyes locked with mine—dark, steady, and too intense for someone I’d just met. Except… it didn’t feel like “just met.” There was a weight to the moment, like a thread had been pulled taut between us and neither of us knew who had pulled it first.

I swallowed. “Have we met before?” My voice came out raspier than I expected.

A pause stretched between us before he answered. “Not exactly.”

The words were simple, but the way he said them was not. There was something layered there, something unspoken.

Sage cleared her throat. “Tyler’s the one who found you last night. Brought you home after—” she hesitated, her gaze flicking to mine, “—after the wolf attack.”

“Wolf?” The word felt foreign in my mouth.

“Must’ve wandered down from the mountains,” she said briskly. “Tyler scared it off.”

I turned my eyes back to him. He didn’t confirm or deny it, just watched me with that same unreadable expression. My gaze traced the slope of his shoulders, the way his black T-shirt clung to him like it had been made for him, the faint shadow of stubble along his jaw. His presence was… solid. Not overwhelming, but steady, like he’d been standing there long before I woke and could stand there just as long after I drifted back to sleep.

And then there was the scent. Pine needles after rain. Woodsmoke curling through cold air. I caught hints of it when I’d stirred last night—half-conscious, half-dreaming—but now it was sharper, almost grounding. I didn’t realize I was leaning toward it until Sage shifted, breaking the moment.

“You should be more careful,” Tyler said, his voice low, almost rumbling. “The woods aren’t safe at night.”

Something about the way he said it made my skin prickle, like he knew exactly why they weren’t safe but wasn’t planning on telling me.

I wrapped my hands around the mug Sage had set down, the heat bleeding into my fingers. “Thanks,” I murmured, though I wasn’t sure if I was thanking her for the tea or him for… whatever it was he’d done.

Tyler gave a single nod. “Rest.” With that, he turned and left the room without another word, the faint creak of the stairs following his exit.

Sage lingered, watching the doorway for a moment before her gaze returned to me. “Drink your tea,” she said softly. “You need your strength.”

I took a sip, letting the warmth slide down my throat. But my mind wasn’t on the tea—it was replaying last night in pieces. The edge of the woods. Breath puffing white in the cold air. His silhouette in the distance. The sharp sting of something at my side. The feeling of being lifted, carried.

And then—

A rush of images slammed into my mind. The woods, lit silver by moonlight. Red glinting between the trees. A shape too fast to follow. Pain that burned and pulsed at the same time. A voice—low, familiar—saying my name.

My knees buckled. The mug slipped in my hands, tea sloshing dangerously close to the rim. Sage was there instantly, her arm around me.

“Elara? Hey—look at me.”

I blinked, struggling to pull myself out of whatever that was. My breathing came too fast, my skin too hot and cold at once.

“What… was that?” My voice shook more than I wanted it to.

“Shock,” she said, like the word explained everything. “You need to rest. That’s all.”

But her eyes flickered—just for a second—and I knew she wasn’t telling me everything