The moon marked bride

Aerin's pov The first thing I remember was the pull. It felt like cold fingers of something that didn’t care whether I wanted to go or not. It wrapped around me and dragged me. There was no up or down in that place. No sky, no ground, just endless darkness that moved slow.It curled around my arms, my legs, my throat, pressing in close enough that I could almost feel it tasting my fear. My hand was clenched around something. My pendant, probably. I had worn the crescent moon since I was a child. “Aerin.” The voice was inside my skull. I tried to run away, but my feet slipped on something smooth and slick, like wet a stone . My heart was beating faster every second. “No” The word came out, it struggled before it left my mouth. “Aerin.” This time the voice sounded closer. Like it was coming nearer. My fingers clenched harder unto the pendant. “Let go!” I tried to shout, but it came like a whisper. I saw something huge and dark coming closer to me then it snapped. I woke up gasping for air with my eyes flying open to the familiar wooden beams of my ceiling. Morning light slipped through the thin curtains, painting lazy patterns across the room. My heart was still beating fast like I had run all the way from the river. My room still had the same crack in the plaster near the window. Same faint smell of dried lavender and old wood. I laid there for a long moment, just breathing and trying to convince my body that the dream was over and that I was safe. Slowly, I pressed a hand to my chest. My skin was damp with sweat, but nothing had happened to me. No bruises, no marks I was just trying to catch my breath. “It was a dream,” I whispered into the quiet. “Just a stupid dream.” I sat up, swinging my legs over the side of the bed. The wooden floor was cool against my bare feet. I rubbed my face with both hands, pushing my messy silver hair back. My fingers drifted automatically to the pendant resting against my collarbone. The small crescent of polished moonstone felt cool and smooth, exactly as it always did. I traced its curve with my thumb, letting the familiar shape calm me. See? Nothing it was just your mind playing tricks. I stood up, stretched a little, and walked across the room to splash water on my face from the basin. The reflection staring back at me in the small mirror looked tired and a little paler than usual but it was still me. Aerin the daughter of the famous herbal lady Liora. I dressed quickly in my usual simple linen tunic and skirt , tied my hair back with a worn leather cord, and stepped outside. Lunewood mornings have a way of making the world feel gentle. Sunlight filtered through the old oak trees that surrounded the village while the birds sang from the branches. The scent of damp earth, wild mint, and woodsmoke drifted on the breeze. I walked the short path toward our shop, nodding at old Mrs Calder who was already sweeping her doorstep. She waved, her wrinkled face creasing into a smile. The little brass bell above the door chimed as I stepped inside. The shop smelled of dried herbs, beeswax, and the faint metallic scent of the copper scales on the counter. “Aerin?” my mother called from the back room. “I’m here,” I answered, hanging my shawl on the hook by the door. She appeared a moment later, with her arms full of fresh bundles of rosemary and lavender. A few strands of her dark hair had escaped her braid and curled around her face. She looked at me and smiled, but her eyes lingered a second longer than usual. “You’re up early,” she said, setting the herbs down. “Couldn’t sleep in,” I replied lightly, moving behind the counter and reaching for the pestle and mortar. She raised an eyebrow. “That’s new for you.” I shrugged, avoiding her gaze. “Guess I just woke up.” It wasn’t a complete lie I had woken up I just left out the part where I was being dragged through a nightmare first. She watched me for a moment, then started sorting the herbs with her hands. The silence between us wasn’t uncomfortable, but it wasn’t entirely easy either. I could feel her worry in the air. “You look tired, love,” she said finally. “I’m fine.” “You always say that.” I gave her a small smile and started grinding the herbs with more force than necessary. “You’re rushing again,” she observed gently. I slowed my movements. “Sorry.” She came closer and rested a warm hand on my shoulder. “You don’t have to push so hard, Aerin. The day will still be here whether you grind those herbs into dust or not.” “I know,” I said quietly. But did I? Lately it felt like if I stopped moving or stopped doing anything the strange feelings might catch up to me. The morning slipped went by quickly .Villagers came in with their small ailments aches in old joints, coughs that didn't go away easily or babies who wouldn’t stop crying. Mrs Thorne wanted her usual sleep tonic while little Tomas needed something for his scraped knee. Except for that one moment when old widow Harlan took her herbs from my hands. She paused, her eyes flicking from my face to the pendant at my throat, then back again. Something unreadable crossed her expression. Then she patted my hand and left without a word. I pretended not to notice but I always did. By midday the shop grew quiet. The sun reflected through the windows, warming the wooden shelves lined with glass jars of dried leaves, roots, and petals. I stepped outside for some air, leaning against the doorframe and breathing in deep. The forest stood just beyond the edge of the village. I had played between those trees as a child, gathered mushrooms and berries there with my mother, learned which plants healed and which could kill. It had always felt like my second home. Today it felt like it was watching me from far away instead of feeling safe like it used to. I shook my head. “You’re being ridiculous,” I muttered to myself. “It’s just trees.” I turned to go back inside, hand already reaching for the door, when I felt a shift. It felt like a strange and cold prickle at the base of my spine, like someone had stepped into the room behind me when the room was empty. I glanced over my shoulder. But the trees stood exactly where they always had. Everything looked perfectly normal. I exhaled slowly and stepped back into the shop. “You’re imagining things,” I whispered under my breath. The afternoon passed by quickly. I helped my mother restock the shelves. We ate a simple lunch of bread, cheese, and ripe plums in the back room. We talked about the price of honey, whether the river would run low this summer, how the new baker’s bread was better than the old one’s. When night finally came, I climbed the narrow stairs to my room, changed into my nightgown, and blew out the candle. Moonlight spilled across the floor through the window, looking pale and silvery. I laid on my back, staring at the ceiling beams trying to get some sleep but I couldn't stop thinking about the dream I had last night.I turned onto my side pulling my blanket up to my face trying to sleep. I closed my eyes. Then, just as sleep began to pull me under, I felt the pull again. My eyes flew open. The room was exactly as it had been. My pendant wasn’t cool anymore it was warm. I sat up slowly, breath in shaky, and stared at the crescent moonstone. I glanced toward the window looking at the peaceful moon. Then I laid back down, forcing my eyes shut again. “Stop it,” I whispered to the empty room. “You’re fine. Everything is fine.” Eventually, sleep came. But right before I slept I heard the whisper again. “Aerin…” I laid awake for a long time after that, staring at the ceiling, listening t o the silence . Something was coming but I didn't know what it was.