HOWLING HEARTS

TWO: THE BLACKSMITH'S SECRET

Luca’s hammer struck the heated iron with a steady rhythm, the sound echoing through the quiet blacksmith’s workshop. Sweat dripped from his brow, his muscles straining under the intensity of the fire’s heat, but he didn’t mind. The work kept his hands busy, his mind focused—distracted from the gnawing hunger building inside him.

The hunger that would only grow stronger as the full moon approached.

He cursed under his breath, glancing out of the open window. The last traces of daylight had faded, and the moon was beginning to rise, still thin and fragile, but dangerous all the same. His chest tightened. It was coming again—too soon, always too soon.

The howls had started earlier that evening, a low warning to the town, though most of the residents were used to it by now. They knew better than to wander near the forest after dusk, especially with the full moon approaching.

Except for the new girl.

Luca hadn’t seen her arrive, but word traveled fast in Silver Hollow, and it wasn’t long before he heard about Isla, the stranger who had come to live at the old inn. He wasn’t sure what had drawn her here, but he knew the town wouldn’t stay quiet for long with her around. Newcomers always stirred things up, always brought trouble.

Especially with him.

He put down his hammer, running a hand through his damp, dark hair. There was a reason he kept to himself, a reason he avoided the townsfolk as much as possible. He was cursed, dangerous, a beast barely contained. Every full moon, he fought to hold on to his humanity, to control the savage creature lurking beneath his skin.

But the closer the moon got, the harder it became.

He pulled off his gloves, wiping his hands on his leather apron. He could still feel the faint pull of the curse, the slow burn in his veins. It was always there, waiting. Watching. And with each passing day, it became harder to fight.

A faint rustle outside his shop pulled his attention, and he stiffened. Someone was close. Too close.

He stepped into the shadows of the workshop, his sharp eyes scanning the darkened street. Most of the townsfolk were safely indoors by now, their windows shuttered and doors locked. But there, across the street, standing near the entrance of the inn, was a woman.

Her.

Luca’s breath caught in his throat. Isla. The new arrival.

She was staring up at the sky, her arms crossed, her brow furrowed in concentration. He could tell she was listening to the howls, the same ones that haunted him every night. She seemed… unafraid. Curious, even.

That’s a mistake.

He should warn her, tell her to stay inside, to mind her own business. The forest wasn’t safe, and neither was he. But instead, he stayed in the shadows, watching her. Something about her drew him in, something he couldn’t quite understand. She was different from the others. She didn’t look at the town with fear or suspicion. She looked at it like someone searching for answers. Someone who wanted to uncover the truth.

Luca clenched his fists. He had to stay away. She was a danger to him, and he was a danger to her. The last thing he needed was someone else getting too close, seeing too much. Especially not someone like her.

But as he turned away from the window, preparing to lose himself in his work again, a sudden movement caught his eye. Isla had turned, her gaze lifting to the workshop across the street. For a moment, their eyes met, and Luca felt a strange pull deep in his chest, like something inside him was waking up. He quickly stepped back into the shadows, heart pounding.

She couldn’t have seen him. He’d been careful—he was always careful. But still, the way her gaze had lingered made him uneasy.

Stay away, he told himself, shaking his head. She’s not your problem.

But even as he said it, he knew it wasn’t true. Because for the first time in a long time, Luca felt something stir within him, something he hadn’t allowed himself to feel in years.

Hope.

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Later That Night

Isla lay in her small room at the inn, tossing and turning beneath the heavy quilt. Sleep was impossible. The howls had grown louder, closer, and with them came an unsettling sense of dread. She couldn’t shake the feeling that she wasn’t alone, that something—or someone—was watching her.

The window rattled slightly in the breeze, and she sat up, her heart racing. She glanced outside, half expecting to see a wolf lurking in the shadows. But there was nothing—only the quiet, empty street and the faint glow of the moon.

She pulled her knees to her chest, her mind racing. She had come to Silver Hollow to escape, to find peace, but instead, she felt like she had stepped into a place where the past still haunted the present. The townspeople were kind enough, but there was something they weren’t telling her, something they were all afraid of.

Especially Luca.

She had noticed him earlier, watching her from the shadows of his workshop. He hadn’t said a word, but she had felt his gaze on her, sharp and intense. There was something about him that set him apart from the rest of the town. He didn’t seem afraid of the howls, or of the forest. If anything, he seemed… connected to it.

She had caught a glimpse of him earlier, a brief moment that left her wondering who he really was. His dark hair, his broad shoulders, the way his hands moved expertly over the iron as if he were trying to mold the metal into something more than just a tool.

She couldn’t stop thinking about him, even though she knew she should.

Another howl cut through the night, closer this time. Isla’s breath hitched. She stood, moving toward the window, and peered out into the darkness. The forest loomed at the edge of the town, dark and ominous, the trees swaying in the wind.

And then, for the briefest of moments, she thought she saw movement in the shadows. Something—someone—emerging from the trees, their eyes gleaming in the moonlight.

But when she blinked, the figure was gone.