Marked By Moon And Blood

Chapter 2

The Girl In The Mirror

Serena’s POV

I got home feeling lighter than I had in years.

The door had barely closed behind me when I dropped my bag and reached for my phone. My fingers were shaking, my smile so wide my cheeks hurt. There was only one person I wanted to tell first.

“Alia,” I said the moment she picked up, barely letting her breathe, “guess what. I got the job.”

There was a pause on the line. One second.

Then she screamed.

“Ahhhhh!” she shrieked so loudly I had to pull the phone away from my ear. I could picture her perfectly, hopping around her apartment, probably flailing her arms like she’d just won the lottery. “You did it! You actually did it!”

I laughed, the sound bubbling out of me. “I really did. I’m going to be a personal assistant. An actual, real one.”

“This is huge,” she said breathlessly. “This deserves a proper celebration.”

I hesitated. Celebrations weren’t really my thing. “Alia—”

“Nope. Don’t even start,” she cut in. “I’m taking you out tomorrow. Sunday. We’re going clubbing.”

My smile faltered. “Clubbing?”

“Yes. Clubbing,” she repeated firmly. “Bills on me. You cannot refuse.”

I sighed, already knowing I’d lost. Alia was my only friend, and once she set her mind on something, escape was impossible. “Okay. Fine.”

“Good. And I’ll dress you myself,” she added immediately.

“What’s wrong with my wardrobe?” I asked, genuinely wounded.

She laughed. “Nothing at all. Your wardrobe is perfect for work, grocery shopping, and church. For outings or dates? Absolutely tragic.”

“I am offended,” I said.

“You should be,” she replied cheerfully. “See you tomorrow.”

“See you,” I said softly.

“Tomorrow is going to be wild,” she promised before hanging up.

I stood there for a moment, phone still in my hand, letting the happiness settle into my bones. I made myself dinner, something simple, and ate while replaying the events of the day in my head. The interview. The building. The man with the golden eyes.

I shook my head, trying to push the thought away.

After showering, I curled up on my bed and put on a movie, though I barely paid attention to it. My body was tired, but my mind refused to slow down. Eventually, exhaustion won.

Or so I thought.

Darkness swallowed me.

I found myself walking down a long hallway, the walls stretching endlessly on either side. The air felt heavy, cold against my skin. My footsteps echoed as if I weren’t alone, though I couldn’t see anyone.

At the far end stood a large door.

Something about it made my chest tighten, but my hand reached for the handle anyway. I pushed it open.

The room beyond was empty. Pitch black.

Then something shifted.

Two massive golden eyes opened in the darkness.

They weren’t glowing exactly. They simply existed, sharp and aware, fixed on me with an intensity that made my blood run cold. I tried to move, to scream, but my body wouldn’t respond.

The eyes blinked once.

My alarm rang.

I jolted upright in bed with a gasp, my heart hammering painfully against my ribs. Sweat clung to my skin, my sheets twisted around me.

“It’s just a dream,” I whispered, pressing a hand to my chest. “Just stress.”

Still, the image stayed with me long after I forced myself out of bed.

The morning passed quietly. I ate breakfast, showered again, and tried distracting myself with another movie, but I kept glancing at the door, half expecting something—or someone—to be there.

The doorbell rang.

I opened it to find Alia standing there, eyes bright, holding a large box that definitely hadn’t been there last night.

“I thought I’d come early,” she said, pushing past me. “We have a lot to do.”

“A makeover?” I asked, glancing at the time. “This early?”

“Yes,” she replied confidently. “Sit.”

Before I could protest, she positioned me in front of the mirror. With a loud thud, she dropped the box at my feet.

“You are about to witness my skills,” she announced.

She started with my hair, washing and styling it carefully, giving it soft waves I’d never managed on my own. Then came makeup. Light at first, then more defined.

“Oof,” she said suddenly. “Dark circles. Didn’t sleep well?”

“I had a weird dream,” I admitted.

She paused. “Want to talk about it?”

I shook my head. “It’s nothing. Just stress.”

She studied me for a moment, then nodded. “Okay.”

Hours passed. My back ached, and my stomach growled, but Alia didn’t stop until she was satisfied.

Finally, she stepped aside.

I stared at my reflection.

I barely recognized myself.

My brown hair fell in glossy waves around my shoulders. My blue eyes looked brighter, sharper. The dress she’d chosen was short and shimmering, hugging my curves in ways I wasn’t used to. The neckline plunged dangerously low.

“Alia,” I said slowly, “I’m basically naked.”

She burst out laughing. “You are not naked.”

“This dress has no mercy,” I whispered. “If I breathe wrong, everything will be exposed.”

She adjusted the fabric calmly. “You look amazing. Stop hiding.”

“I can’t wear this,” I insisted.

“Yes, you can,” she said firmly. “And you will.”

She turned to get ready herself. Alia slipped into a fitted black outfit that screamed confidence, paired with heels sharp enough to intimidate anyone who crossed her.

“Tonight,” she said, grabbing her bag, “we celebrate you.”

As we stepped out, the air felt different. Heavy. Charged.

I hugged myself lightly, an uneasy excitement curling in my chest.

I didn’t know what the night had in store for us.

But I had a feeling it was going to change everything.