MOON BOUND

The rain hammered the windshield like it wanted to drown the world. Lily Thompson gripped the edge of the passenger seat hard enough to leave marks. Twenty-two years old and suddenly orphaned. The state trooper’s words still echoed: “Your parents didn’t make it.” The lawyer driving her—some pale guy in a cheap suit—kept glancing over like she might shatter. “Your aunts are expecting you. They’re… family. It’ll be better than foster care.” Lily didn’t answer. Better was relative. She barely remembered Aunt Helen and Aunt Victoria. They lived in Blackwood Hollow, a nowhere town two hours north of the city, buried in pine and fog. Her parents had always kept her away. “They’re complicated,” Mom used to say with a tight smile. The car turned onto a long gravel driveway. The house rose out of the trees—Victorian, dark wood, steep roof, windows that looked like they watched. Lights glowed in the downstairs windows. The front door opened before the car fully stopped. A woman in her late fifties stepped onto the porch. Soft face, soft eyes, soft everything. Helen. She wore a cardigan and held an umbrella that did nothing against the sideways rain. Behind her, in the doorway, stood the other one. Victoria Thompson was all sharp angles and colder eyes. Black dress, black hair pulled into a severe knot, posture like she was waiting for a fight. She didn’t step into the rain. She just watched. Helen rushed down the steps the second Lily got out. “Oh, sweetheart.” The hug was immediate, warm, smelling of lavender and something earthier. “I’m so sorry. So, so sorry.” Lily let herself be held for three seconds. Then she pulled back. “Hi, Aunt Helen.” Victoria’s voice cut through the rain like a blade. “Inside. Both of you. You’re tracking mud.” *** The room was clean, small, with a window that looked out over the dense woods behind the house. A twin bed, a dresser, a desk. No personality. “Your mother and I used to share this room when we were girls,” Helen hovered in the doorway. “Before… everything.” Lily set her duffel bag down. “What everything?” Helen’s smile flickered. “Old history. Rest. Unpack. I’ll come get you for dinner.” She left. Lily stood alone in the quiet. Rain still lashed the window. Somewhere far off, deeper in the trees, something howled. Long. Low. Not a dog. Her skin prickled. She crossed to the window and stared into the dark. The woods looked thicker than they should. A soft knock came twenty minutes later. Victoria stepped in without waiting for an answer. She closed the door behind her. “You’re not to go into the woods. Not alone. Not at night. Not ever without permission.” Her voice was quiet, controlled. “This town has rules. Our family has rules. Break them and there will be consequences.” Lily turned. “I’m not a child.” “No. You’re the last of your parents’ blood. That makes you both valuable and dangerous.” Victoria’s eyes were ice. “Helen will coddle you. I will not. You will finish college online if you must. You will not date. You will not make friends who ask too many questions. And you will never, under any circumstances, speak of what you might see or hear in this house after dark.” Lily’s pulse kicked. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Victoria stepped closer. The air between them felt colder. “Unpack. Dinner is in thirty minutes. Wear something presentable.” *** Dinner was a war zone in slow motion. The long table in the formal dining room sat under a chandelier that cast sharp shadows. Victoria sat at the head like a queen who hated her court. Helen sat to her right, Lily across from her. “You’ll start online classes next week,” Victoria said without looking up from her plate. “I’ve already spoken to the registrar. No need to leave the property more than necessary.” Lily stabbed a potato. “I was halfway through my nursing degree. I had clinicals.” “You’ll finish what you can from here. Nursing is useful. Loyalty is more useful.” Helen’s fork paused. “Victoria, the girl just lost her parents. Give her a week.” “She has had a week of pity. Now she has rules.” Victoria’s gaze lifted and pinned Lily. “You will not leave this house after dark. You will not speak to the girl next door without me present. And you will not ask about your parents’ accident again. The police report is closed. Accept it.” Lily’s pulse jumped. “What girl?” Helen sighed. “Sophia. She lives across the road with her mother, Camila. You two used to play together when you were little. Before your parents moved away.” Victoria’s mouth tightened. “That friendship ended for a reason. Keep it that way.” Lily set her fork down. “You can’t just—” A howl rolled through the night, long and low, right outside the windows. The glass rattled. Helen’s hand froze halfway to her wine glass. Victoria went very still. Another howl answered it from farther away. Then a third, closer, almost under the house. Lily’s skin tightened. “What the hell is that?” Victoria stood. “Stay in your seat.” She walked to the window, parted the heavy curtain a fraction, and stared into the dark. Helen’s voice dropped. “They’re restless tonight. The moon is almost full.” “Almost?” Lily’s laugh came out sharp. “Those aren’t dogs.” Victoria let the curtain fall. “Finish your dinner. Then go upstairs. Do not open your window. Do not look outside.” Lily pushed her chair back. “I’m not five. Tell me what’s going on.” Victoria turned. The look she gave her could have drawn blood. Helen rose quickly, moving between them. “Enough. Lily, sweetheart, go upstairs. I’ll bring you tea later. Please.” *** A soft knock came at her door. Lily opened it. Helen carried a mug of tea and a folded blanket. “I shouldn’t tell you this,” Helen whispered, stepping inside and closing the door. “But you’re not a child, and Victoria’s fear is choking this house.” She set the tea down. “Your parents didn’t die in a simple accident. Something hunted them. Something that has been hunting our bloodline for years. Victoria believes keeping you locked away will keep you safe. I believe it will only make you a target later.” Lily’s voice came out rough. “What are those things outside?” Helen hesitated. Then she met her eyes. “Wolves. But not the kind in nature documentaries. Pack. Old blood. And one of them….” A howl rose again, closer, almost under the window. Helen’s hand found Lily’s wrist. “Do not go outside tonight. Promise me.” Lily nodded, but her eyes stayed on the dark glass.