Chapter Three – Moonlit Strangers
730 Words
Morning came slowly, filtered through gray clouds and the thick drapes of Celeste’s apartment above her shop. But sleep had never come. She’d sat on her couch all night, trying to piece together the impossible. The wolf, the man in the alley, the way his eyes had looked right through her.
She hadn’t dreamed it.
The scratches on her forearm, the torn strap of her bag, and the cracked display case downstairs were all proof. Something had happened. Something that broke the rules of reality—and of her quiet, herbalist life.
She rose, aching and exhausted, and made her way down to the shop. The bell above the door jingled as she unlocked it. A few early risers wandered past with coffee and beignets, oblivious to the war Celeste felt had been waged just blocks away.
She paused near the counter, eyes drawn again to her mother’s old silver pendant. It was still warm. Almost pulsing.
With hesitation, she took it off and placed it on the wooden surface.
The second it left her skin, the warmth vanished. She blinked and picked it up again.
Warm.
Off again.
Cold.
That’s… not normal.
She reached for one of her books—Arcane Flora and Fauna of the Crescent City—an old tome passed down through her family. It was filled with pages of medicinal plants, strange folklore, and warnings disguised as fairy tales.
She flipped through until she found something she’d ignored before.
“Moon-blooded: Those touched by lunar magic carry signs in silver and shadow. They attract beasts, see through veils, and awaken when the time is right.”
Her breath caught.
Was this her?
The bell above the shop jingled again.
Celeste froze.
The man who stepped inside looked nothing like the wild beast she’d seen last night. He wore a dark coat, his hair still damp from the morning rain, his movements smooth and deliberate. But his eyes…
Silver.
Not just light-gray. Silver like moonlight on still water.
It was him.
The man. The wolf.
“You’re not open yet,” she said carefully, heart thundering.
“I know.” His voice was deep, calm. Controlled. “I won’t be long.”
She straightened behind the counter, masking her nerves. “Do I know you?”
“No,” he said. Then added, “But you saw me last night.”
Celeste’s fingers curled slightly on the wood.
“I need to know what you remember,” he continued, eyes scanning the shop before resting on the pendant between them. “And what you know.”
“About what?” she said, trying to buy time.
“About me. About what I am.”
Celeste swallowed hard. “I know what I saw. Two wolves. One attacked me. The other saved me. And you—”
“I was the second,” he said.
She blinked. “You're not denying it?”
“I don’t have time to. You’re already in danger.”
Celeste narrowed her eyes. “From who?”
“From those who don’t want peace between our kind. The one who attacked you was a rogue. He’ll come back. You were marked.”
“Marked?” Her hand flew to her neck. “I don’t—”
“It’s not something you feel. It’s something they smell.” He stepped closer, lowering his voice. “I can hide you. Protect you. But I need to know if there’s anything about you that might’ve drawn him to you.”
She hesitated. Then, slowly, she slid the pendant toward him.
“This,” she said. “It’s been acting… strange.”
He picked it up. The moment his fingers touched the silver, his body tensed. His eyes darkened.
“Where did you get this?”
“It was my mother’s.”
“What was her name?”
“Marie Dubois.”
He stared at the pendant as though it had just changed everything. “Your mother wasn’t just human,” he said quietly. “This… this is more than silver. It’s moonforged.”
Celeste’s world tilted.
“I don’t understand,” she whispered.
“You will,” he said. “But not here. Not alone.”
She looked into his eyes—those strange, ancient eyes—and realized something terrifying and thrilling at once:
She trusted him.
Even if she didn’t know why.
---
- Writer
