Protagonist: Elias HawthorneLove interest: Mara WhitlockMissing sibling: Thomas Hawthorne

Elias Hawthorne had learned to fear the moon. He stood at the tall window of Hawthorne Manor, watching the pale light rise slowly over the moors. The sky was clear, and that made his chest tighten. Clear skies meant a bright moon. A bright moon meant trouble. He checked his pocket watch. There were only a few hours left. Elias turned away from the window and walked down the long hallway. Hawthorne Manor was quiet, as it always was. Too quiet. The house was large, but only one man lived inside it now. His footsteps echoed as he moved, reminding him how alone he was. At the end of the hallway was a heavy wooden door reinforced with iron bars. Elias stopped in front of it. His hand trembled slightly as he reached for the key around his neck. He had used this room many times before. He unlocked the door and stepped inside. The room was bare—stone walls, a narrow bed, and iron chains fixed firmly into the floor. Deep scratches marked the walls. Old marks. New marks. Elias swallowed. “This will keep everyone safe,” he whispered to himself, though he was no longer sure it was true. He left the room and locked the door behind him. Outside, the wind howled across the moors. ⸻ Blackmoor Vale lay quiet at the foot of the hills. Smoke rose from chimneys as villagers prepared for the evening. Doors were closed earlier than usual. Windows were shuttered. People spoke in low voices and looked often toward the moors. Mara Whitlock arrived in the village just before sunset. She stepped down from the carriage with a small suitcase in her hand and looked around. Blackmoor Vale was smaller than she expected. Older too. The buildings leaned slightly, as if tired from standing so long. The air smelled of earth and rain. She pulled her coat tighter around her shoulders. “This place feels… heavy,” she murmured. The innkeeper greeted her with a polite but tired smile. “You must be the new schoolteacher.” “Yes,” Mara said. “I’m here to stay.” He nodded slowly. “You picked a strange time to arrive.” “Why is that?” He hesitated. “Best you stay indoors tonight.” Mara frowned. “Is there a storm coming?” The innkeeper did not answer. He only glanced toward the sky, where the moon was beginning to rise. Back at the manor, Elias paced the floor. His body felt restless, uncomfortable in a way he could not explain. His hands shook. His breathing felt shallow. It was starting. He poured himself a glass of water, but it slipped from his fingers and shattered on the floor. The sound echoed loudly through the house. Elias clenched his fists. Pain spread through his arms, deep and burning. His heart raced. His senses sharpened—he could hear the wind outside, the distant barking of dogs, the faint beat of his own pulse. “No,” he said quietly. “Not yet.” He forced himself to sit down, gripping the edge of the table until his knuckles turned white. He had learned ways to delay it. Breathing slowly. Staying calm. Avoiding the moonlight. But tonight felt different. Stronger. Outside, clouds drifted away, revealing the full moon in all its brightness. Elias cried out as pain ripped through his body. His muscles tightened. His bones felt like they were shifting beneath his skin. He staggered to his feet and stumbled down the hallway. The locked door. He reached it just in time. With shaking hands, he unlocked the door and fell inside, slamming it shut behind him. He locked it, then locked it again, his fingers barely working. The pain exploded. Elias screamed as the change took hold. In the village, a howl broke the silence. It was loud. Wild. Unnatural. Mara froze where she stood. “What was that?” she asked. No one answered her. Doors slammed shut around her. Lamps went dark. The village seemed to disappear in seconds, leaving Mara standing alone in the road. Another howl echoed across the moors. Mara’s heart pounded. Every part of her told her to run, but curiosity rooted her to the spot. She looked toward the hills, toward the dark shape of Hawthorne Manor standing alone against the moonlight. Something was very wrong in Blackmoor Vale. At the manor, the sounds behind the locked door grew louder—snarls, heavy breathing, claws scraping against stone. Elias was gone. In his place was the wolf. And the night had only just begun.