MOONBOUNS

Some say the full moon reveals monsters. Others say it shows your true self. The night Lyla Aster turned nineteen, the moon bled silver. It hung above Hollow Creek like a god’s unblinking eye — watching, waiting. Lyla had always hated the forest behind her house. It was too quiet. Too still. The trees whispered things when the wind blew just right. Things she didn’t understand… yet always feared. She stood on the balcony of her foster parents’ worn-down farmhouse, staring at that eerie silver moon, hugging her arms around herself. The wind whipped her long dark hair into her face, and goosebumps prickled her skin, though it wasn’t cold. There was something in the air tonight. Something ancient. Her phone buzzed. Eden [8:03 PM]: u still coming? bonfire’s lit. got ur fav – marshmelloooows 🤤🔥 Lyla sighed, chewing her lip. She didn’t want to go. Not really. Not tonight. But Eden was her best friend and the only reason she hadn’t gone crazy in this cursed little town. She typed back: Lyla [8:03 PM]: omw 🫠 She slipped on her black hoodie, pulled up the hood, and climbed down the creaky steps of the porch. Her boots crunched against the gravel as she made her way toward the woods. The bonfire was just past the old clearing near the lake — a fifteen-minute walk. Halfway there, she stopped. The wind had died. Silence fell over the forest like a shroud. No crickets. No rustling leaves. Just… nothing. Then, a low growl. Lyla froze. Her heart thundered in her chest. She turned slowly, breath hitching. At the edge of the path, in the shadows between the trees, two glowing eyes stared back at her. A wolf. Massive. Bigger than any she'd ever seen — its fur as black as midnight, eyes glowing a haunting amber. It stepped forward. One paw. Then another. Lyla took a step back. Another growl — deeper this time. But not hostile. More like... a warning. And then, the wolf spoke. Not with words. But in her mind. "Run." Her body jolted as if shocked. She blinked — and the wolf was gone. “Lyla!” Eden’s voice called in the distance. She staggered backward, panting, then turned and sprinted toward the clearing. The bonfire was in full blaze by the time she arrived, catching stares and whispers as she stumbled in, wide-eyed and pale. “Hey—hey!” Eden grabbed her arms. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” “Not a ghost,” Lyla murmured, glancing over her shoulder. “Something else.” Later that night, when most people had left and the fire had burned low, Lyla sat on a fallen log, poking at the embers with a stick. That’s when she felt it again. A presence. She turned. And he was there. Tall. Shadowed. Lean but muscular. Wearing a black leather jacket and dark jeans. His hair was tousled, his eyes glowing faintly in the firelight — golden, intense, almost… inhuman. He didn’t belong here. She knew it instantly. She stood slowly. He didn’t speak at first. Just looked at her, as if studying something no one else could see. “You shouldn’t have come alone,” he said finally, voice low and smooth like velvet over gravel. Her mouth was dry. “I wasn’t alone.” “You were. For a moment.” “You followed me.” “I saved you.” “You… what?” He stepped closer. “The forest isn’t safe for someone like you.” “What do you mean, someone like me?” she asked, her heart pounding. He tilted his head. “You don’t know yet. But you will. Soon.” Her eyes narrowed. “Do I know you?” “You will.” He turned to walk away. “Wait—what’s your name?” she called out. He paused, glanced back over his shoulder. “Riven.” And just like that, he vanished into the trees. That night, Lyla dreamed of wolves. Of fire. Of blood. And a kiss under a silver moon. [End of Chapter 1]