Bound by the Moonlight
Chapter 1 – The Omen Night
The town of Eloria was usually quiet after dark, but tonight it felt different—too quiet, too hollow. The air was heavy, the kind of silence that carried warnings rather than peace.
Aria Hale pulled her shawl tighter around her shoulders as she walked quickly along the empty road. Shops had closed hours ago, lamps flickered weakly on the corners, and even the usual stray dogs that chased her footsteps were nowhere to be seen.
She didn't like this silence. It pressed against her chest, making her heart beat faster.
The moon above was unusually bright. Silver light spilled over rooftops and painted the cobblestone path beneath her feet. For a moment, it almost looked beautiful—like the town was glowing. But Aria couldn't shake the feeling that the moon wasn't shining for beauty tonight. It was watching her.
Her pace quickened.
Then she heard it.
A sound that wasn't a sound. A whisper that wasn't a whisper. Something brushed against her mind, a voice without words that made her blood run cold.
Aria froze. "Who's there?" Her voice cracked, trembling despite her effort to stay calm.
Silence answered. Only the wind rustled the dead branches of a nearby tree.
She forced herself to breathe and kept walking, faster now. But then she saw it—at the far end of the street.
A figure.
Tall. Still. Wrong.
Its outline was blurred, shifting as though it was made of smoke instead of flesh. The figure tilted its head slowly, unnaturally, as if studying her.
Aria's heart stopped. She blinked—
And the figure was gone.
Her pulse hammered in her ears. She turned sharply and sprinted the last stretch to her cottage, a small wooden home at the edge of town. The familiar sight of its dimly glowing windows gave her a brief surge of relief. She shoved the door open, slammed it behind her, and pressed her back to the wood, panting.
Safe. She was safe.
Or so she thought.
The fire in her hearth crackled softly, and the warmth should have comforted her. But the comfort shattered the moment her eyes fell on the chair near the fireplace.
Someone was sitting there.
A man.
Aria froze. He wasn't supposed to be here. No one should've been here. Yet he sat in her old chair like he belonged, shadows curling unnaturally around him. His raven-black hair fell slightly into his face, but it couldn't hide the strange glow of his eyes—gold, like molten amber reflecting the flames.
"You shouldn't have been outside tonight," he said, his voice calm yet heavy, as though carrying centuries of secrets.
Aria's throat tightened. Her hand reached for the iron poker by the fireplace, but she couldn't bring herself to lift it. There was something about his presence—calm, dangerous, unshakable—that made her body obey even when her mind screamed to run.
"Who are you? How did you get inside my house?" she demanded, forcing strength into her voice.
The man leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. The firelight flickered across his sharp features, but for a fleeting second, his reflection in the flames wasn't human at all.
"Names don't matter tonight," he said softly. "What matters is that the moon has chosen you."
Aria's stomach knotted. "Chosen me? For what?"
The man's golden eyes glowed brighter, sorrow flickering behind their intensity. He stood slowly, the shadows stretching and bending with him as though they obeyed his movements. He took a step closer, and Aria instinctively stepped back, her breath quickening.
"For a destiny that cannot be undone."
The fire roared suddenly, flames leaping higher as if reacting to his words. The windows rattled, and a sharp gust of cold air swept through the cottage, extinguishing the candles.
Darkness swallowed the room, leaving only the eerie glow of the man's golden eyes.
And in that darkness, Aria realized two things.
First: he wasn't human.
Second: whatever destiny he spoke of, she was already caught in it.