Forbidden Love With My Human Mate

Kiara’s POV I was running. My legs pumped as hard as they could, my bare feet pounding against the forest ground, but it wasn't fast enough. I knew it wasn't fast enough. The creatures behind me were closing in, their snarls growing louder with every breath I took, and no matter how desperately I pushed my body forward, the gap between us was shrinking. The forest got darker and darker with every passing minute. I couldn't see where I was going, and I couldn't see the branches until they raked across my skin, tearing at my clothes and drawing blood. Faster. Run faster. But my legs wouldn't cooperate. Behind me, I could hear them, the thunder of their footsteps and the savage snarls that echoed through the trees. They were right there; I could feel them, almost close enough to— One of them grabbed my shoulder. Claws raked through fabric and skin, and I screamed, a raw, desperate sound that tore from my throat. I tried to wrench away, but the grip was too strong, too solid, and suddenly I was stumbling, my feet catching on a root. Then there was nothing beneath me except air, and then— Impact. The ground knocked the wind from my lungs. I landed hard on my palms and felt something sharp pierce through the sole of my foot, glass, maybe, or bone. The pain was excruciating, but I didn't stop. I couldn't stop. I rolled onto my back, scrambling backward, trying to create distance, trying to— One of them landed on my chest. The breath exploded from my lungs. I couldn't move. I couldn't breathe. The weight of it was crushing, immobilizing, and pinning me flat against the earth. I thrashed beneath it, my hands clawing at fur and muscle that felt impossibly hard. That was when I saw them clearly for the first time. The creature on top of me was massive, seven feet tall at least, covered in thick, matted fur that was dark enough to blend into the night. Its shoulders were broad, its muscles defined and powerful. But it was the face that made my blood run cold. It was almost human, almost, but the jaw was too wide and the teeth too numerous and too sharp. And its eyes, its eyes were amber and bright and intelligent in a way that was somehow worse than any mindless beast. What on earth were these creatures, why were they after me, and why had I never seen anything so terrifying in my entire life? I wanted to scream Nana’s name, but it felt like I didn’t have a voice. Three more emerged from the darkness, forming a half circle around me. A hunting pack. "Finally," the one on top of me growled, and the sound vibrated through my entire body. Its breath reeked of something wild and ancient, blood and earth and something else I couldn't name. "We found her." No. No, no, no. The creature tightened its grip around my throat. My airway closed. My lungs seized. I clawed at the arm crushing my neck, my nails scraping uselessly against fur, drawing blood that I could feel but couldn't see in the darkness. The world began to narrow. My vision darkened at the edges, color bleeding away until everything was just shades of gray. I was dying. This was real. This was happening. These creatures had hunted me down and now they were killing me, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. This is how I die. But then, a voice. A woman's voice, cutting through everything like a blade through silk. "Luna." Where was it coming from? The trees? The sky? Inside my own head? "Luna, get up." The voice was desperate, pulling at something deep inside me, something ancient and terrified. It resonated through my body like a bell being struck. "Luna, get up." The creature's grip tightened. My vision collapsed to a single pinpoint of light. I could feel myself fragmenting, consciousness splintering like ice under pressure. Luna. That name, it wasn't mine. I’ve never heard it before. But in this moment, dying in the dark with a monster's claws around my throat, it felt like the only true thing I'd ever known. My hands clawed at the ground, searching for something, anything, to hold onto, to save me. But there was nothing, just earth and darkness and the relentless pressure of death. The voice called out one more time, anguished and fading: "Luna—" And then everything went black. My eyes snapped open. I gasped, a sharp, desperate intake of breath that burned my lungs. My heart was hammering so violently I thought it might break through my ribs. I was tangled in my sheets, soaked with sweat, and for a moment I couldn't remember where I was or how I'd gotten here. Slowly, the familiar shapes of my bedroom came into focus. The pale moonlight filtering through the windows. The outline of my desk. The posters on the walls that I'd stopped looking at years ago. My bedroom… I was in my room… my safe place. I sat up on shaky legs, pulling the wet sheets away from my skin. My throat felt bruised and tender, like I'd actually been choking. When I lifted my hand to touch it, I half expected to feel claw marks, blood, or something physical to prove that what I'd just experienced was real. My skin was unmarked. Smooth. Not even a tiny scratch. It was just a dream. Except this was the fifth time in a week. The same dream. The same creatures. The same voice calling me a name that wasn't mine. Each one had felt more vivid than the last, more real than my waking life. I could still smell the creature's breath. I could still feel the weight of its body on mine. I could still hear the desperation in that woman's voice as she called out to me in the dark. I stumbled out of bed and made my way to the kitchen on unsteady legs. My hands were shaking as I filled a glass with water. The clock on the microwave read 3:47 AM. School started in a few hours. The thought of going back to sleep made my stomach clench. But there was something else too, something I didn't want to examine too closely. A pull. A magnetic draw back toward the dark, toward those creatures, toward that voice. What were those creatures, why were they after me, and why do I keep repeating the same dream? Who was Luna? Part of me wanted to go back. Part of me needed to go back. Part of me wanted to know why a stranger was calling me by a name that wasn't mine. Luna. I pushed the thought away and went out to the balcony. The night air was cool against my skin, clearing the last remnants of the dream from my head. The neighborhood was quiet and still, with just the distant hum of the city and the rustle of leaves in the wind. But something had shifted inside me over the past week, something I couldn't name or explain. It felt like standing on the edge of a cliff in the dark, waiting for someone to push you off, or waiting for someone to catch you. I stayed out there for a long time, watching the dark, trying to convince myself that morning would bring clarity, and that daylight would explain all of this away into nothing. Eventually, I went back to bed. But first, I grabbed the white teddy bear from my shelf, the one my dad had given me when I was five years old, back when the world made sense and people didn't just disappear. I held it close, breathing in the faint smell of old fabric and memories I was trying not to lose. "Just a dream," I whispered to the dark. "That's all it is." But as I closed my eyes, I heard it again. That woman's voice. That desperate, layered echo pulling me back down into sleep: "Luna. Come home." This time, I didn't resist. I let myself fall. And I fell right back into the dark woods.