MOONBOUND: Love, War and Destiny

Lena

My breath came in short, shallow gasps. My heart pounded so violently that it echoed in my ears, drowning out the night's quiet hum. I should have turned and run. I should have screamed. But I couldn't move.

The man—no, the creature—before me didn't move either. He watched me with piercing silver eyes, unreadable and unblinking, his presence like a force pressing against my skin. The night stretched between us, heavy with something I didn't understand. The air felt thick, charged with an energy that made it hard to breathe.

Then he took a step forward.

Panic slammed into me, raw and consuming. My boots slipped against the damp earth as I stumbled back, my hands trembling at my sides. "Stay away," I choked out, barely above a whisper.

He stopped, tilting his head slightly as if studying me. His face was carved from shadows and moonlight, sharp angles and strong lines. He was beautiful, but in a way that felt wrong—too perfect, too sharp, too otherworldly. His presence sent a chill racing down my spine.

"Who are you?" My voice was steadier than I felt, but I forced the words out, needing something to ground me.

His lips parted, but he hesitated. A long exhale left him, slow and measured. "You need to leave," he said instead.

I clenched my fists. "I'm not going anywhere until you tell me what you are."

His gaze flickered, something unreadable flashing behind his silver eyes. "You already know."

The words sent a jolt through me. A shiver raced over my skin. My mind screamed at me to deny it, to find some rational explanation. But deep down, I knew. I had known the moment I saw him.

"You're a…" I swallowed hard, forcing myself to say it. "A werewolf."

His jaw tightened, but he didn't deny it.

The world tilted. My pulse pounded in my throat. This wasn't real. It couldn't be. The stories, the legends—they were nothing more than old tales meant to scare children. Creatures like him weren't supposed to exist outside of nightmares.

Yet he stood before me, solid and real, his presence overwhelming.

A shift rippled through the air, something invisible but powerful, pressing against my skin like a silent pulse. Before my eyes, his form began to change.

The towering, shadowed figure of the wolf contorted, bones shifting, reshaping, muscles stretching beneath his fur. The transformation should have been grotesque, something out of a horror film, but it wasn't. It was fluid, almost effortless, like the night itself was molding him into something new.

And then, just like that, the massive beast was gone.

In its place stood a man.

My breath hitched.

He was tall—towering, even, with a body that seemed sculpted from marble. His shoulders were broad, his muscles lean and defined, every inch of him exuding an effortless power. The moonlight caught the lines of his bare chest, highlighting the ridges of muscle and the smooth golden tone of his skin.

His silver eyes remained the same—piercing, unearthly, too intense to look at for too long. His hair was dark, tousled, falling over his forehead in a way that only made him look more dangerously alluring. A strong jaw, high cheekbones, and a mouth that looked like it was made for both soft whispers and sharp commands.

I had never seen a man like him before.

He was… beautiful.

But not in a safe way.

No, he was beautiful in the way a storm was beautiful—untamed, wild, and capable of absolute destruction.

Heat curled in my stomach, a mix of fear and something else I refused to name. I forced myself to look away, my heart pounding too fast, my thoughts spiraling.

"Why are you here?" His voice was calm, but there was something underneath it, something guarded.

I shook my head. "I don't know." It was the truth. I had no reason to be here, no explanation for why I felt drawn to this forest, why something had been pulling me toward it for days.

His gaze narrowed, and the intensity of it made my breath catch. It was as if he saw straight through me, peeling back layers I hadn't even realized were there.

"You don't belong here," he murmured. "Leave before it's too late."

A sharp, icy chill settled in my bones. "Too late for what?"

He didn't answer.

His expression remained unreadable, but something in his eyes shifted, as if he was fighting some internal battle I couldn't begin to understand. The silence between us stretched unbearably.

And then, without a word, he turned and disappeared into the darkness.

Gone, like he had never been there at all.

The forest was still again, save for the whisper of wind rustling through the trees. My heart was still racing, my skin still buzzing with the remnants of something I couldn't name.

I should have left.

I should have run.

But I knew, deep in my bones, that this wasn't the end.

It was only the beginning.

____

I don't know how long I stood there, my mind spinning with what had just happened. The cold night air nipped at my skin, but I barely felt it. My thoughts were tangled, a whirlwind of fear, confusion, and something I didn't want to name.

I forced myself to take a shaky breath. My legs were weak beneath me, but I turned, making my way back through the trees. The path felt different now, darker, the shadows stretching unnaturally. The presence of the creature—of him—lingered, making the night feel more alive, more dangerous.

Who was he?

And why did I feel like I had seen those silver eyes before?

I didn't stop moving until I broke through the edge of the forest, my boots crunching against gravel. My house was just ahead, its familiar outline barely visible in the dim glow of the porch light.

I hesitated.

Something told me that stepping inside wouldn't erase what had just happened. That the moment I crossed that threshold, my life wouldn't go back to normal.

Maybe it never would.

I glanced back at the trees, half-expecting to see those glowing silver eyes watching me from the darkness. But there was nothing. Just the quiet hum of the night and the whisper of the wind through the leaves.

Still, I knew better.

I wasn't alone.

Not anymore.