The rain lashed against the dormitory windows, a relentless drumming that mirrored the turmoil in Elara's chest. She clutched the letter tighter, the parchment crinkling under her trembling fingers. The ink had smudged from the dampness in the air, but the words were seared into her mind anyway.
*"Meet me at the old clock tower. Midnight. I have answers."*
No signature, but she knew. Kieran's scent—wild and earthy, like the forest after a storm—lingered on the paper. Her heart twisted. She shouldn't go. Not after last time, when his touch had left her skin humming with something she couldn't name, something that felt too much like magic.
But the other voice in her head, the one that sounded suspiciously like her best friend, Liam, hissed a warning. *"He's dangerous, Elara. You don't know what he is."*
She glanced at the clock. 11:47 PM. Thirteen minutes to decide.
A knock at her door startled her. She shoved the letter under her pillow just as Liam stepped inside, his dark hair dripping rainwater onto the floor. His hazel eyes flicked to her face, then the rumpled sheets. "You're not seriously considering going, are you?"
Elara crossed her arms. "You were eavesdropping again."
"I was worried." He stepped closer, the scent of old books and coffee wrapping around her. "You've been different since you met him. Distant. Like you're not entirely here anymore."
She swallowed. Liam knew her too well. "I just need answers."
"From a guy who disappears into thin air? Who no one else seems to notice unless he wants them to?" Liam's voice dropped. "Elara, the stories about the woods—about things that aren't human—they're not just stories here."
She looked away. The college town was steeped in whispers—of spirits that walked in the fog, of lovers who vanished without a trace. But Kieran wasn't like that. Was he?
"I have to know," she whispered.
Liam exhaled sharply. "Then I'm coming with you."
---
The clock tower loomed ahead, its face illuminated by a sliver of moonlight breaking through the storm clouds. Elara's breath fogged in the cold air as she and Liam approached, their footsteps muffled by the wet grass.
Then she saw him.
Kieran stood beneath the tower, his silver hair catching the faint light, his eyes glowing faintly—amber, like a predator's. He was beautiful in a way that made her chest ache, but the way he watched Liam made her skin prickle.
"You brought him," Kieran said, his voice low.
Liam stepped forward, shoulders squared. "Whatever you want with her, it ends tonight."
Kieran's lips curled, revealing sharp canines. "You don't even know what you're dealing with, human."
Elara's pulse spiked. "Stop it. Both of you." She turned to Kieran. "You said you had answers. So talk."
For a moment, the tension hung thick between them. Then Kieran sighed, the fight draining from his posture. "You're right." He reached into his coat and pulled out a small, leather-bound journal. "This belonged to your grandmother."
Elara's breath hitched. Her grandmother had disappeared decades ago, leaving behind only rumors and a family that refused to speak of her.
Kieran continued, "She was like me. Like *you*."
Liam scoffed. "What, a delusional recluse?"
Kieran's gaze snapped to him. "A *shifter*. Bound to the moon, tied to the wild. Elara's bloodline carries the curse—or the gift, depending on who you ask."
Elara's hands shook as she took the journal. The first page bore her grandmother's handwriting: *"The wolf chooses its heart. The heart chooses its fate."*
"This is insane," Liam muttered.
But Elara couldn't deny the pull in her veins, the way the moonlight called to her. She looked at Kieran. "Prove it."
His eyes flashed. Then, in a blur of motion, he was gone—replaced by a massive silver wolf, its fur bristling, its gaze locked on hers.
Liam grabbed her arm, yanking her back. "We're leaving. Now."
But Elara couldn't move. The wolf—Kieran—stepped closer, nudging her hand with his muzzle. A warmth spread through her, a recognition.
And then the howl echoed through the night.
Not from Kieran.
From the woods.
Kieran snarled, whirling to face the trees. A pack of shadowed figures emerged, their eyes gleaming red.
Liam cursed. "What the hell are those?"
"Hunters," Kieran growled, shifting back in a ripple of muscle and bone. "They've been waiting for you, Elara. For the last heir of the moon's bloodline."
The largest hunter stepped forward, a cruel smile twisting his lips. "Come quietly, little wolf, and we'll spare your pets."
Elara's vision sharpened, her blood singing with a power she'd never known. She bared her teeth. "Run, Liam."
He didn't.
And as the hunters lunged, the world exploded in teeth and claws and moonlight.
---
The last thing Elara remembered was the searing pain—and Kieran's voice in her mind.
*"Let go. Let the wolf in."*
Then everything went black.