Chapter 8: Under the Red Moon
979 Words
The cave was still. Outside, the wind rustled through the trees, and the fire had long since died to embers. Luna drifted into sleep, her arms still wrapped around Riven’s fevered body, his breath finally steady, though faint.
Then—silence.
A stillness that was too deep. Too unnatural.
Luna opened her eyes.
But the cave was gone.
She stood barefoot in an endless field of ash. The sky above her was crimson—bleeding red around a full, swollen moon that pulsed like a heartbeat. The air was thick with power, wild and humming.
She turned.
Riven stood a few feet away, bare-chested, his eyes glowing brighter than they ever had before. His hair was tousled by a wind she couldn’t feel, and his expression wasn’t feverish—it was alert, focused, haunted.
“Where are we?” she asked, her voice echoing in the vastness.
His eyes locked on hers. “This isn’t real.”
“But it feels like it is,” she whispered, stepping closer. “Is this… a dream?”
He nodded, but his jaw tightened. “No. Not just a dream. It’s something else.”
Suddenly, howls rose in the distance. Not from wolves—but from something ancient and hungry.
Shapes moved in the dark. Shadow-wolves. Faceless. Snarling.
Luna’s heartbeat thundered. “They’re coming for us.”
Riven moved beside her, his hand brushing against hers. “They always come for us here.”
“You’ve been here before?”
“Yes,” he said softly. “But never with someone else.”
The ground trembled beneath them. The red moon flared brighter.
And then—light burst from Luna’s chest, a silvery pulse that cut through the ash. The shadows recoiled, shrieking, and the wind suddenly shifted.
Riven stared at her. “You’re the one.”
Luna turned to him, breathless. “What are you talking about?”
He looked at her like he was seeing her for the first time. “You’re not just a Luna. You’re something more. Something the moon remembers.”
The dream began to unravel—threads of red sky tearing like paper as the earth shook under their feet.
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The first light of dawn crept into the cave, casting a soft golden hue on the stone walls. The fire had long since died, leaving only a faint warmth lingering in the air.
Luna stirred, blinking against the haze of sleep. Her body was curled tightly against Riven’s—her bare skin pressed to his, his arm draped across her waist, his face resting near her collarbone.
Warmth flooded her cheeks as realization struck.
Her eyes widened.
She was practically naked.
And so was he.
She tensed, heart skipping, breath catching in her throat. “Oh—oh moon,” she breathed.
Riven stirred beside her, brow furrowing before his eyes slowly opened. His gaze met hers—confused at first, then widening in sudden awareness.
Luna scrambled to sit up, the blanket dragging with her as she pulled it tightly around her body. “I—um—I didn’t mean—last night you were burning up and—and I didn’t know what else to do—”
Her voice cracked as she rushed the words, face burning.
“I swear it wasn’t anything—anything weird—I was just—just trying to save your life!”
Riven sat up slowly, the blanket slipping down to his waist before he quickly adjusted it, turning his head away respectfully.
“You don’t have to explain,” he said quietly, voice still rough from sleep. “You saved me.”
He reached for his shirt and handed Luna hers without looking, his cheeks tinged with the faintest red. “Here.”
She took it quickly, avoiding his gaze. “Thanks.”
Silence settled between them again—this time not from danger or grief, but from the strange intimacy of two people who had held each other in the dark… and now had no idea what to say in the light.
Neither mentioned the dream.
Because somehow… they both forgot.
Or maybe something didn’t want them to remember.
They walked in silence as the forest stretched wide around them, sunlight filtering gently through the trees. The birds had begun their morning chorus, and a soft breeze carried the scent of pine and dew. It should’ve felt peaceful.
But between them, the silence was anything but.
Luna kept her eyes fixed ahead, the weight of her thoughts pressing heavy on her shoulders. Every time she tried to form a sentence, it dissolved on her tongue.
Riven walked a step behind her, quiet, unreadable. He hadn’t spoken much since they left the cave—only the occasional warning about footing or direction. He hadn’t brought up the night before. Neither had she.
But she could feel it.
Every brush of his arm, every shared glance, every pause between words—they buzzed with unspoken tension.
She didn’t know what she expected to feel—shame? Embarrassment?
Instead, it was a quiet ache. Confusion. Heat that lingered far longer than the fever that had nearly taken him.
She glanced over her shoulder, catching Riven’s gaze before he quickly looked away.
“I didn’t sleep well,” she said suddenly, not sure why the words came out.
His voice was low. “Neither did I.”
Their eyes met again, this time a little longer.
The air between them thickened with things neither dared to say.
But the silence didn’t last.
Because up ahead, the trail forked—and a thin trail of smoke curled from somewhere beyond the trees.
Riven tensed immediately. “We’re not alone.”
Just like that, the warmth between them cooled, replaced by instinct and survival.
But beneath it all, the tension remained—coiled like a wire, ready to snap.
- Writer
