The evening air felt cold against my skin as I stepped out of the charity event hall. The lights behind me glittered like stars, but all I felt was the weight of another night pretending to be happy. The crowd inside had cheered my name, toasted my success, and smiled at me like I was a goddess. But once the lights went off, they would whisper the same thing they always did, "She has everything except love."
I walked to my car slowly, my heels clicking against the marble floor of the hotel's parking lot. My driver wasn't around yet, and I didn't feel like calling him. For a moment, I just wanted silence, not the sound of money, not the fake laughter of friends, not even the flash of cameras. Just peace.
Then I saw him.
He was standing near a black motorcycle, tall and lean, his face hidden under a hood. The first thing I noticed were his eyes, golden, like the sun had melted inside them. I froze for a second, wondering if I had seen him before. There was something familiar in the way he stood, calm but alert, like a man who carried secrets.
"Ravena Wyldemore," he said softly, his voice low and deep.
The sound of my name on his lips made my heart skip. I frowned. "Do I know you?"
He gave a small smile. "Not yet."
He reached out and held my scarf that was blowing in the wind. I didn't even realize it had slipped off my shoulder. His hand brushed mine, and a strange warmth ran through me. not like attraction, but something… ancient. I pulled my hand back quickly, confused.
"Thank you," I said, forcing a polite smile.
"You shouldn't walk alone at night," he replied. "The moon is high. It attracts dangerous things."
I laughed nervously. "You mean like you?"
He tilted his head slightly, the corner of his lips lifting. "Maybe."
Before I could say anything else, a black car pulled up. My driver rushed out, apologizing for being late. When I looked back, the man was gone. Just like that, vanished into the night as if he had never been there.
I tried to shrug it off, but as the car drove home, I couldn't get his golden eyes out of my head.
The next morning, I woke up to a message from my sister, Elara. She wanted to come over to discuss her wedding plans. I smiled weakly. Elara was always full of life, the perfect bride-to-be. She was younger, more delicate, and everyone adored her. Sometimes, I wished I could be more like her, free and unbothered by the world's expectations.
When she arrived, she ran into my arms, her face glowing. "Ravena! You have to help me pick my wedding dress!"
I laughed. "Of course. That's my job as the big sister, right?"
We spent hours looking through magazines and scrolling through designer catalogs. But in between the laughter, I could see how she looked at me, with pity. She didn't say it, but I knew what she thought. Poor Ravena, all the money in the world but no one to love her.
That night, after Elara left, I stood on my balcony, staring at the moon. It was huge, bright, and strangely red, like a bleeding heart. I didn't know why, but it made me feel uneasy. The air grew colder, and a low wind howled through the garden.
Then I heard it, a faint growl.
My body went still. I turned, eyes scanning the dark corners below. The sound came again, this time louder. My pulse quickened. I wanted to believe it was just a dog from the neighborhood, but the sound was too deep, too wild.
Suddenly, movement, a shadow darting between the trees. My heart pounded in my chest. I stepped back, almost tripping over my chair.
Then, a voice from behind me.
"You shouldn't stare at the moon that long."
I spun around. He was there, the same man from last night, standing on my balcony as if he had walked through the wall. His hood was down this time. His hair was dark, his jaw sharp, and those golden eyes glowed faintly under the moonlight.
I gasped. "How did you, What are you doing here?!"
He raised his hands slowly. "I didn't mean to frighten you."
"How did you get in?" I asked again, clutching the railing.
He hesitated, then said softly, "Let's just say… the doors of your house don't stop everyone."
I wanted to scream, but something in his voice stopped me. He didn't sound dangerous, more like someone who was trying not to be. My fear turned into confusion.
"Who are you?" I whispered.
He smiled faintly. "Draven."
"Draven what?"
"Just Draven."
"What do you want from me?"
His gaze held mine for a long moment. Then he said, "To protect you."
I frowned. "Protect me? From what?"
"From the ones who killed your parents."
My blood froze. "What did you just say?"
He stepped closer, his eyes darkening. "Your parents' death wasn't an accident, Ravena. It was planned."
I shook my head. "That's not true. They died in a car crash."
Draven's voice grew colder. "That's what they wanted you to believe."
I stared at him, unable to breathe. He couldn't know that. No one could. The thought had haunted me for years, but I buried it under work, money, and fame. Hearing it now… it was like a knife reopening an old wound.
"Who are you really?" I asked again, voice trembling.
He didn't answer. He just turned to the moon and said quietly, "There are things you don't see in the light, Ravena. But when the dark moon rises, all secrets are born again."
I didn't understand what he meant. I wanted to demand answers, but when I blinked, he was gone.
Vanished.
No door opened. No sound. Just gone.
I ran inside, locked every window, every door, every possible entry. My heart wouldn't stop racing. Who was he? How did he know about my parents? And what did he mean by dark moon?
That night, I didn't sleep. I kept hearing faint howls in the distance, long, mournful cries that echoed through the woods behind my mansion.
At dawn, when the sun finally rose, I thought maybe it was all in my head. Maybe I was losing my mind.
But when I stepped outside to get some fresh air, I found something strange at the edge of my garden.
A single red rose.
Lying perfectly on the grass.
And next to it… a claw mark, deep and fresh, carved into the stone wall.
I bent down, my hands shaking as I traced the mark. It wasn't human. It wasn't something that could have been made by a knife or tool. It was… an animal. But too large, too precise.
Then my phone rang.
Unknown number.
I hesitated, then answered. "Hello?"
A familiar voice came through, deep and calm. "I told you not to walk alone at night."
My throat went dry. "Draven?"
Silence for a moment. Then, "They're watching you now. Don't trust anyone."
The line went dead.
I stood there, frozen, the phone still in my hand. The morning sun was bright, but suddenly it didn't feel warm anymore. My entire body went cold.
Because just then, from the open gates of my mansion, I saw a car pull in, sleek, black, and unfamiliar.
The man who stepped out was smiling politely, holding a file under his arm.
"Good morning, Miss Ravena," he said. "I'm your new personal assistant. Mr. Draven sent me."
Who exactly is Draven, a guardian, a stalker, or something darker tied to her parents' death and the moon's mystery?