Moonlight Awakening

1: The Howl The forest was alive with sound. The rustling of leaves, the distant call of an owl, and the soft crunch of twigs underfoot blended into a nocturnal symphony. The air carried the scent of damp earth and pine, mingling with the faint chill of autumn. Elena Hart adjusted the strap of her camera bag, the weight a familiar comfort against her hip. She had been tracking a wolf pack for days, determined to capture the perfect shot for her photography portfolio. But tonight, something felt different. The air was thick with a tension she couldn’t place, as if the trees themselves were holding their breath. She paused, crouching low near a fallen log, her fingers tightening around her camera. The full moon overhead bathed the Blackwood Forest in silver light, casting elongated shadows that danced with the swaying branches. The clearing ahead was empty, but her instincts told her she wasn’t alone. A twig snapped behind her. Elena spun, her breath catching. Nothing. Only darkness stretching between the trees, shifting with the breeze. She exhaled slowly, forcing herself to relax. She had been in the wilderness long enough to know that the mind played tricks at night. Then she heard it. A low growl rumbled through the trees, deep and resonant, vibrating in her chest. It wasn’t the usual call of a wolf—it was something more primal, something that sent a chill down her spine. She froze, her heartbeat drumming in her ears. The growl came again, closer this time. Her instincts screamed at her to run, but her training as a photographer told her otherwise. Slowly, she reached for her camera, adjusting the focus to capture the movement in the shadows. The forest fell into an eerie silence. Then, without warning, a massive wolf burst from the darkness. Elena gasped, stumbling backward. The creature was unlike any she had ever seen. Larger than any natural wolf, its fur was thick and deep black, gleaming under the moonlight. But what truly held her frozen in place were its eyes—golden, burning with an intelligence that went beyond any animal she had ever encountered. She had seen wolves before. This was not just a wolf. The beast lowered its head, muscles coiling as it prepared to lunge. Elena’s instincts finally kicked in. She reached for the knife strapped to her boot, her fingers closing around the hilt. But before she could draw it, a blur of silver crashed into the black wolf, sending both creatures rolling into the underbrush in a flurry of snarls and snapping jaws. Elena scrambled to her feet, her mind racing. What was happening? The two wolves clashed violently, teeth bared, growls ripping through the night. The black wolf—larger and more imposing—snapped at the silver one’s throat, but the silver wolf was fast, dodging with fluid grace. The ground trembled beneath their fight, and Elena could only watch, frozen in a mixture of terror and awe. Then, as suddenly as it had begun, the black wolf wrenched itself free and disappeared into the forest, its dark form swallowed by the night. Silence settled once more. The silver wolf turned to Elena. Her breath hitched. Unlike the black wolf’s burning intensity, this one’s eyes were sharp but calm, filled with something she couldn’t quite decipher. It took a slow step toward her, as if testing her reaction. And then, before her eyes, the creature began to change. Fur melted into skin, limbs twisted and reformed, and within seconds, where the wolf had stood, now stood a man. Elena’s stomach clenched. He was tall, broad-shouldered, his toned body bare to the waist. His silver hair, tousled and falling over his forehead, shimmered under the moonlight. His golden eyes, the same ones that had belonged to the wolf, locked onto hers. Her pulse pounded in her ears. “Run,” he said. His voice was rough, edged with command. But Elena couldn’t move. Every instinct in her body screamed at her to flee, to turn and disappear into the woods. Yet something else—something deeper, more primal—held her rooted to the spot. The man exhaled sharply, his expression shifting from urgency to something softer. “Elena,” he murmured. The sound of her name on his lips sent a shiver down her spine. “You shouldn’t be here.” Her fingers trembled against her camera strap, her mind struggling to piece together what she had just witnessed. A wolf had turned into a man. And he knew her name.