The Dark Moon Chronicles [Book 1]: Blood Beneath The Dark Moon

Some nightmares vanish with the dawn, dissolving into faint memories before the day has fully begun. Others cling stubbornly to the mind, leaving behind little more than unease or a racing heartbeat. Luna Vale had never been fortunate enough to experience either. Her nightmare did not fade with the morning, nor did it weaken with time. It returned every night with unwavering precision, as dependable as the rising moon, waiting patiently beyond the veil of sleep to guide her back into a forest that should not exist. After eighteen years, she knew every path, every towering pine, every whisper carried by the wind, yet the place remained as mysterious as it had been the first time she opened her eyes beneath its ancient trees. The air smelled of rain and damp earth, rich with the scent of moss that clung to twisted roots older than memory itself. Silver mist drifted lazily between the trunks, thick enough to conceal whatever lurked beyond a few yards, while an eerie stillness settled over the forest like an invisible hand pressing gently against the world. No birds sang. No insects stirred. Even the wind seemed unwilling to disturb the silence, leaving Luna with the unsettling feeling that the entire forest was waiting for something only it understood. She drew a slow breath and looked around, already recognizing where she was. The narrow trail beneath her feet curved gently toward a familiar clearing bathed in pale moonlight, and although every instinct insisted she should turn back, she found herself walking forward exactly as she always did. Curiosity had long ago overcome fear. Whatever force brought her here each night never allowed her to choose a different path, and over the years she had stopped resisting it. Instead, she searched for answers that remained stubbornly beyond her reach. When she stepped into the clearing, her heart slowed instead of quickening. He was waiting. The enormous black wolf stood upon a weathered stone overlooking the open space, his coat darker than the sky itself. Moonlight should have reflected from his fur, yet the strange creature seemed to absorb every trace of light around him until only the brilliance of his silver eyes remained. Those eyes held no trace of hunger or hostility. They carried patience, sorrow, and a quiet familiarity that Luna had never been able to explain. Every time she looked into them, she experienced the same impossible feeling that she had known him once, long before memory could reach. For years she had wondered whether the wolf was simply a product of her imagination, yet imagination had limits. Dreams shifted and changed, but this place never did. Every stone rested where it always had. Every tree leaned in the same direction. Even the wolf breathed with the calm rhythm of a living creature waiting for someone important to arrive. "Who are you?" Luna asked softly, taking another cautious step into the clearing. "Why do you keep bringing me here?" The wolf neither growled nor retreated. He simply watched her, as though her questions deserved answers but the time had not yet come to give them. A cool breeze brushed across her face, carrying with it the faint scent of wildflowers mixed with something older and stranger, something that reminded her of forgotten memories buried just beyond the edge of consciousness. She frowned, trying to grasp the feeling before it slipped away again, but the effort was interrupted by an overwhelming urge to look upward. The moon had changed. It was no longer silver. Hanging above the forest was a perfect sphere of living darkness, vast enough to dominate the heavens. Crimson veins spread slowly across its surface like rivers of blood beneath black glass, casting an unnatural glow over the clearing. It was beautiful in the most terrifying way imaginable, impossible to describe and even harder to forget. Luna had searched countless books throughout her childhood, hoping to discover some forgotten legend about a black moon stained with crimson light, but every search had ended in disappointment. No myths spoke of it. No historian had recorded it. According to the world she knew, such a moon had never existed. Yet she had seen it thousands of times. The black wolf slowly lifted his head. A single howl pierced the silence. The sound echoed through the forest with such heartbreaking loneliness that Luna felt it deep within her chest. It was more than the cry of an animal. It carried grief, hope, longing, and an unbearable weight of waiting that stretched across countless years. The mist trembled. Ancient trees swayed despite the absence of wind. Somewhere in the distance, unseen creatures fled through the darkness as though escaping something far more dangerous than the howl itself. Then everything changed. The wolf's ears flattened against his head. His silver eyes snapped toward the shadows beyond the clearing. For the first time in eighteen years... He looked afraid. Luna instinctively followed his gaze. At first she saw nothing beyond the shifting mist, but slowly, almost reluctantly, small points of crimson light began appearing between the trees. One pair of glowing eyes became three. Three became ten. Then dozens. Low growls rolled through the forest from every direction, surrounding the clearing with a chorus of hunger that sent an icy shiver crawling down her spine. The creatures emerged one after another. They resembled wolves only in shape. Their bodies were grotesquely oversized, scarred by old battles and streaked with black veins that pulsed beneath patches of mangy fur. Their jaws hung unnaturally wide, revealing rows of jagged teeth slick with saliva, while their crimson eyes burned with a cruel intelligence that made them far more frightening than ordinary beasts. They weren't hunting the black wolf. They were hunting her. Luna stumbled backward until her shoulder brushed against the wolf's thick coat. Warmth radiated from his body, steady and reassuring despite the danger surrounding them. Without taking his eyes from the advancing monsters, the great wolf stepped protectively in front of her, placing himself between Luna and the growing circle of predators. A voice echoed inside her mind. Not through her ears. Inside her soul. "Little Moon..." Luna's breath caught. The voice was deep, ancient, and filled with sorrow so profound that it seemed to carry the grief of centuries. "The time has come." Before she could respond, the leader of the monstrous wolves stepped into the moonlight. Unlike the others, it wore a cruel smile that looked disturbingly human. "You found her too late," it growled. The black wolf answered with a roar that shook the earth. The monsters charged. "Luna!" Someone was calling her. "Luna! Wake up!" The forest shattered like broken glass. Luna jerked upright in bed, gasping for air as the dream dissolved into darkness. Rain hammered against the roof of the old farmhouse, thunder rolled across the distant mountains, and her heart pounded so violently she could hear nothing else. She pressed a trembling hand against her chest, trying to convince herself it had only been another nightmare. But this time... The wolf had spoken. And deep within her soul, a terrifying certainty settled into place. It hadn't been a dream. It had been a warning.