The red moon refused to fade. By morning it had softened to a copper halo, but the sky still pulsed like a wound.
Riley woke before dawn, the attic smelling of salt and cedar smoke. Her birthmarks ached—a steady, low throb as if the moon had left fingerprints on her skin. She pressed her palms to the scars. Warm. Almost alive.
Aunt Corinne's note waited on the kitchen table:
Night shift again. Don't forget school registration. —C.
Below the neat script, a faint smear of ash.
---
At Driftwood High the halls felt sharper, the whispers louder. When she reached her locker a folded slip of paper tumbled out.
The moon sees you.
No signature.
She scanned the hallway. Faces turned away too quickly. A shiver crawled beneath her jacket.
---
Chemistry class brought him again.
Cassian slid into the seat beside her with the quiet grace of someone born to shadows. Today his shirt was black, collar open to reveal a thin silver chain that caught the light. His eyes, pale as winter clouds, flicked to the scar at her neck.
"You felt it," he murmured.
Riley's pen stilled. "Felt what?"
"The pull. Last night." He leaned closer, breath cool, carrying a hint of rain and something older—stone, maybe, or moonlight itself. "You shouldn't ignore it."
"Is that why you leave cryptic notes?" she shot back, but her voice betrayed curiosity more than anger.
Cassian's half-smile deepened. "I only speak to those the moon chooses."
Before she could demand an explanation, the teacher began the lesson. Cassian's gaze lingered, a promise and a warning woven into one.
---
After school Riley wandered toward the cliff path again, compelled by an ache she couldn't name. Mist curled through the redwoods, thick as velvet.
The howl came first—long, resonant, threading the dusk.
Then Jace emerged, broad-shouldered and sun-bronzed despite the cold. His amber eyes caught the fading light, a quiet fire inside them.
"You came back," he said.
"I wanted answers," she replied.
He stepped closer, the forest seeming to bend around him. "Answers cost trust."
"And trust costs…?"
"Everything." He studied her, head tilted like a predator scenting something rare. "Your scent changed with the moon. You don't belong to them or to us."
"Them?" she echoed.
"The Nightborn." He glanced toward the cliffs where the tide hammered the rocks. "Moon-drinkers who think the night is theirs alone."
Riley's heartbeat quickened. "And you?"
"I run with what's left of the Lune-kind," he said simply. "Spirits of the wild. Wolves, cats, things the world thinks gone." His voice softened. "But you…you carry both winds."
Her scars burned hot, a pulse of silver under her skin.
Before she could answer, a low rumble rolled through the forest—like giant drums beneath the earth. Jace stiffened, every muscle alert.
"They've found you," he whispered.
---
From the mist, Cassian appeared, moonlight bending around him. The air between the two boys crackled, storm and tide colliding.
"Step away from her," Cassian said, voice a blade of calm.
Jace's smile turned feral. "Claiming her already? Bold for a Nightborn."
"She isn't yours to taint with wildness," Cassian replied.
"She isn't yours to cage in shadow."
Their words struck sparks in the cold air. Riley felt the ground vibrate underfoot, her marks blazing like molten silver.
"Stop!" she cried.
Both turned to her. Two predators, two worlds, waiting.
And somewhere deep in the cliffs, the drums thundered again, as if the earth itself awaited her choice.