THE MOON HIDES MY HEART

Chapter 1: The Letter

The dust made me sneeze. I wiped my nose with the back of my hand and stared at the old wooden chest in the corner of my mother's closet. It had been there for ten years, ever since she died. Ten years since my father sealed it shut with a padlock and forbade me from opening it.

But tonight felt different. The lock wasn't rusted anymore. When I touched it, it crumbled as if it had been waiting for me.

Click.

My fingers trembled as I lifted the heavy lid. The scent of lavender and old paper hit my face. I closed my eyes, imagining it was her perfume, pretending she was behind me, running her hands through my curly black hair as she used to. But when I opened my eyes, only dust and memories remained.

And a letter.

It lay atop faded photographs and silver jewelry I'd never seen before. The envelope was yellowed, almost brown at the edges. My name, "Elif," was written on the front in my mother's handwriting. Not "My Dear Elif," or "To My Daughter," just my name, as if she knew I would find it precisely on this night.

I carefully pulled the letter out. The paper crackled under my fingers. Three pages, dated eight months before she died.

Then I began to read.

"Kızım,"

I heard her voice in my head, soft and warm, the way she said "my daughter" in Turkish, as if the word were made of honey.

"If you are reading this, it means your blood has awakened. You are eighteen now, or close to it. And you have started to feel things you cannot explain. The dreams of running through forests. The strange calm you feel during full moons. The way animals look at you like they know a secret.

I am sorry I am not there to tell you this myself.

You are not ordinary, Elif. You never were. And neither was I.

I come from a line of women who carry something rare in this world. The old ones call it 'The Balancer.' The wolves call it 'The Human Heart.' You have the power to calm the rage inside werewolves. To silence the beast when it wants to tear everything apart.

Yes. Werewolves are real.

And they will come for you.

That is why I left Istanbul. That is why I married your father, a simple man who knew nothing of my past. I wanted to protect you. To give you a normal life.

But the blood always wakes up.

There is a place called Nordlicht Academy. It is hidden in the mountains of Norway, where the Northern Lights paint the sky every night. It is a school for young werewolves from the strongest bloodlines in the world. And once every generation, they accept a human like you.

Go there. Learn what you are. Find the three alphas who will need you more than they know.

But listen to me carefully, my daughter.

Tell no one what you truly are. Not until you are ready. The wolves are proud and dangerous. They will either worship you or destroy you. Make them earn your trust.

I love you. I have always loved you. And I am watching from wherever the moon takes us.

Your mother,

Sibel Demir"

I read the letter three times. Then a fourth. Then I dropped it on the floor, my hands shaking too much to hold it. Werewolves? Werewolves? My mother had lost her mind. That was the only explanation. The cancer must have spread to her brain before she died, and she'd written this in some delusional fever dream. Yes, that had to be it.

I laughed, a broken, hollow sound. "I'm not crazy," I whispered to the empty room. "She was crazy. There's a difference."

I stood and walked to the mirror above her old dresser. The same face I'd always seen. Black curly hair falling past my shoulders. Hazel eyes that looked more green than brown in this light. Round cheeks. Full lips. The same nose I'd hated since I was twelve. Nothing special. Nothing supernatural.

But then I looked at my palm. And my heart stopped.

There it was. A faint silver crescent moon, right in the center of my right hand. It glowed for a second, like liquid starlight, then faded into my skin as if it had always been there.

"What the—" I rubbed my palm. Nothing changed. I washed it with soap. Nothing. I held it under the lamp. Still there, hidden beneath the surface, waiting.

"Your blood has awakened."

"No," I whispered. "No, no, no." But even as I denied it, I remembered things I had tried to forget. The way stray dogs followed me home from school. The way I never got scared during horror movies while my friends screamed. The way I felt stronger, calmer, more alive during full moons.

I sat on the floor and cried for an hour. Then I folded the letter, put it back in the envelope, and hid it under my mattress. I didn't sleep that night, just stared at the ceiling and wondered if my whole life had been a lie.

The letter arrived the next morning. Not by mail, but by hawk. A massive white bird landed on my windowsill at precisely 7:13 AM, a cream-colored envelope in its beak. It dropped the envelope, looked me directly in the eyes for five full seconds, and then flew away as if it had never been there.

I opened the window with trembling hands. The envelope was thick, expensive, sealed with dark green wax and a symbol I didn't recognize: a crescent moon inside a circle, surrounded by three wolf heads. Inside was a letter written in elegant gold calligraphy.

"Miss Elif Demir,

The Nordlicht Academy for Lycanthropic Excellence hereby accepts you into our incoming class. Your unique heritage has been verified. Your dormitory has been prepared. Your orientation begins in seven days.

Transportation has been arranged from Istanbul Airport to our campus in the Norwegian wilderness. A ticket is enclosed.

What you are is rare, Miss Demir. What you could become is even rarer.

Do not be late.

— Headmaster Aldric Vane"

I stared at the letter for a long time. Then I looked at my palm. The crescent moon was still there, hiding under my skin like a secret. Then I looked at the ticket. One week. I had one week to decide if I was going to fly to some creepy academy in the middle of nowhere to learn about werewolves from a man named Aldric.

Any sane person would throw the letter away. Burn it. Pretend none of this ever happened. But my mother's voice was still in my head. "Go there. Learn what you are."

I picked up the phone and called my father. "Baba?"

"Elif? It's seven in the morning, kızım. Are you okay?"

"I need to tell you something."

There was a pause. My father knew that tone. He'd heard it the day I decided to shave my head at fifteen. The day I told him I wanted to study abroad. The day I stopped being his little girl and started becoming someone else.

"What is it?"

"I found Mom's letter."

Silence. Long and heavy. "I see," he said finally, his voice different, older. "I was wondering when you would."

"You knew?"

"I knew she had secrets. I chose not to ask. Because I loved her, and some loves are stronger than the truth." He took a breath. "What are you going to do?"

"I think… I think I have to go."

Another pause. Then: "Then go. But come back to me. Promise me that."

"I promise, Baba."

"Good. Now eat something before you leave. You're too skinny."

I laughed. Trust my father to worry about food in the middle of a supernatural crisis.

Seven days later, I was on a plane. Istanbul to Oslo, Oslo to Tromsø. Then a small propeller plane that landed on a frozen lake surrounded by mountains so tall they seemed to touch the stars. The whole time, I kept touching my palm. The crescent moon was getting darker, more visible, like it knew we were getting closer.

When the plane landed, a woman with silver hair and wolf-yellow eyes met me on the ice. "Elif Demir?" she asked.

"Yes."

"Follow me. Don't wander off. The forest doesn't like strangers."

She led me to a black SUV with no windows. We drove for an hour through snow-covered pines. The sun had set hours ago, and the only light came from the moon and the green ribbons of Northern Lights dancing across the sky. I had never seen anything so beautiful. Or so terrifying.

"The academy is just ahead," the woman said. "Your dormitory is in the East Wing. Your roommate's name is—"

"I don't have a roommate."

She glanced at me in the rearview mirror. "Excuse me?"

"The letter said my dormitory has been prepared. Singular. Not shared." I shrugged. "I read carefully."

The woman's eyes narrowed. "Interesting. Most humans are placed in shared quarters."

"I'm not most humans."

She didn't respond, just drove faster.

The academy appeared out of nowhere. One moment, there was only forest and snow. The next, a massive castle of black stone and silver spires rose from the ground as if it had been there for a thousand years. Torches burned along the walls. Flags with the same moon-and-three-wolves symbol hung from every tower. And everywhere I looked, I saw them. Wolves. Not in fur, but in human form. But I could feel them. Their eyes glowed in the darkness. Their movements were too smooth, too predatory. They watched me like I was prey.

"Tell no one what you truly are."

I kept my face neutral, my shoulders back, my chin high. The SUV stopped in front of enormous iron gates. The woman pointed toward a stone archway. "Go through there. Someone will collect you for orientation."

"Thank you."

I stepped out of the car. The cold hit my face like a slap. I pulled my coat tighter and walked toward the archway. My boots crunched on the snow. The gates creaked open. And then I saw him.

He was standing at the entrance of the academy, arms crossed over his massive chest. Easily over six feet tall. White-blond hair that almost glowed under the moonlight. Eyes the color of frozen lakes. His face was carved from ice and arrogance. He was beautiful. And he was looking at me like I was something he wanted to eat.

"A human," he said, his voice deep with a Russian accent, each word dripping with disgust. "They sent a human to Nordlicht."

I stopped walking, looked up at him, and refused to blink. "My name is Elif."

"I don't care what your name is." He stepped closer, his eyes flickering gold for half a second. "Do you know what we do to weaklings here?"

"I'm guessing you try to scare them." I tilted my head. "Is it working?"

Something shifted in his expression. Surprise, maybe. Or irritation. "You have a mouth on you."

"I have a lot of things," I stepped past him. "You'll learn."

I walked through the archway, my heart pounding so loud I was sure he could hear it. But I didn't look back. I couldn't. Because if I looked back, I would see him smiling. And that terrified me more than anything.

The courtyard was empty when I entered. Snow covered everything. Statues of wolves howling at a frozen moon lined the path to the main building. I was halfway across when I heard it. A growl. Low, deep, coming from the shadows to my left. I stopped breathing. The growl came again, closer this time, and then a shape emerged from the darkness. A wolf. But not a normal wolf. This thing was the size of a horse. Black fur. Red eyes that burned like embers. Its lips pulled back, revealing teeth the length of my fingers. It took a step toward me. Then another.

I wanted to run. Every nerve in my body screamed at me to turn and flee. But my mother's voice was in my head again. "The wolves are proud and dangerous." Running would show fear. Fear would make me prey.

So I stood my ground. I looked that monster directly in its burning red eyes. And I didn't move.