The clearing felt like it existed in another world—a place untouched by time, hidden from everything Claire thought she knew about Eldergrove.
The wind whispered through the trees, carrying the scent of damp earth and something older, something wild.
Lucian stood a few feet away, his expression unreadable in the half-light. His hair, still damp from the earlier storm, clung to his forehead. His clothes were wrinkled, torn slightly at the hem, as if he'd been running or... fighting.
Claire swallowed hard.
"You came," he said softly, almost reverently.
Claire wrapped her arms around herself, feeling exposed under his gaze.
"I have questions," she said, trying to keep her voice steady. "And you're going to answer them."
Lucian nodded once, solemn. "Ask."
Claire hesitated, the words heavy on her tongue. So much of her wanted to turn around, to pretend none of this was real.
But she had already stepped off the edge of her old life. There was no going back now.
"First," she said, "what's happening to the town? Why are there more... attacks? People are scared."
Lucian's face darkened. He moved closer, careful, slow—as if he were afraid of startling her.
"It's not just me out here," he said. "There are others. Not all Moonbound are... peaceful."
Claire's heart thudded painfully against her ribs. "Others like you? Werewolves?"
Lucian flinched at the word, but he didn't deny it.
"Not exactly like me," he said. "Some lost themselves to the bloodlust. Gave in to the darker instincts. They see humans as prey."
Claire's stomach twisted.
"How many?"
Lucian's jaw tightened. "Enough. A pack of them, moving closer every night. They know about you now."
"Me?" Claire's voice rose in pitch. "Why me?"
"Because of the bond," Lucian said grimly. "They can smell it. Sense it. And if they can't claim you for themselves, they'll destroy you."
The forest seemed to lean in closer, the shadows pressing against her.
"This is insane," Claire whispered. "I'm just... I'm just me. I'm nobody."
Lucian reached out, hesitated, then brushed his fingers lightly against hers.
"Not to me," he said. "And not to them."
His touch was brief, but it sent a jolt of electricity through her body, grounding her even as the world tilted dangerously.
Claire stepped back, needing distance to think.
"Okay," she said, voice shaking. "Say I believe you. Say this is real. What am I supposed to do? Hide forever?"
Lucian's eyes softened with something like regret.
"I'll teach you how to protect yourself," he said. "How to move through their world. How to survive."
Claire stared at him, feeling the enormity of it settle on her chest like a physical weight.
This was her life now.
"Why?" she asked suddenly, the question burning inside her. "Why risk yourself for me? You barely know me."
Lucian's mouth twisted into a sad smile.
"Because when the bond calls, there's no ignoring it. You're a part of me now, Claire. I couldn't turn away even if I wanted to."
Claire felt her heart crack open under the intensity of his words.
It was too much. Too fast.
And yet... somewhere deep inside, a part of her responded to him instinctively, recognizing something ancient and true.
She was already tied to him, whether she admitted it or not.
They spent hours in the clearing.
Lucian taught her how to listen—not just with her ears, but with her instincts. He showed her how the forest spoke in signs: a broken branch, a sudden silence among the crickets, the shift of the wind.
"Predators move differently," he said, crouching low and motioning for her to copy him. "They leave behind warnings, if you know how to see them."
Claire tried to follow his instructions, but it felt clumsy, foreign.
Still, Lucian was patient. Every time she stumbled, he encouraged her with quiet words and a steadying hand.
It wasn't until hours later, when the moon was high overhead, that Claire finally collapsed onto the grass, gasping for breath.
"I'm never going to get this," she groaned, flopping onto her back.
Lucian chuckled—a rare sound, low and warm.
"You're doing better than you think," he said, stretching out beside her.
They lay there in companionable silence for a while, the stars peeking through the thinning clouds.
Claire turned her head to look at him, really look at him.
There was something ancient in Lucian's eyes. A weariness that didn't belong to someone who looked so young. A sadness carved deep into his bones.
"How old are you?" she asked suddenly.
Lucian gave her a sidelong glance, a ghost of amusement in his expression.
"Older than I look," he said.
"That's not an answer."
He sighed, running a hand through his hair.
"In human years... thirty-five. In Moonbound years... time doesn't pass the same way for us. I stopped aging the night I completed the Change."
Claire shivered, not from cold.
There was so much she didn't understand.
So much she wasn't sure she wanted to understand.
But she couldn't deny it anymore—she was tangled in this now, caught in a web woven long before she was born.
And Lucian was at the center of it.
When they finally parted that night, Lucian insisted on walking her home, his body tense and alert the entire way.
The town looked different under the moonlight. Harsher. More dangerous.
As they neared her house, Claire caught movement out of the corner of her eye.
A dark shape darted between two buildings.
She stopped, heart hammering.
Lucian growled low in his throat, the sound vibrating through the night.
"They're closer than I thought," he muttered.
Claire turned to him, panic rising. "What do we do?"
"You stay inside," he said firmly. "Don't open the door for anyone. Don't leave until I say it's safe."
"And you?"
Lucian gave her a grim smile.
"I hunt."
Before she could protest, he vanished into the night, moving faster than humanly possible.
Claire stood frozen on her front porch, clutching the silver pendant around her neck, feeling its strange heat pulse against her skin.
She hurried inside, locking every door and window.
And then she waited.
Alone.
Terrified.
Knowing that the peaceful life she had once known was gone—and whatever came next, it would demand more courage than she had ever imagined possessing.
The night dragged on endlessly.
Claire sat curled on the couch, the pendant clutched in one hand, a kitchen knife in the other. Every creak of the house made her flinch. Every rustle outside set her heart racing.
Hours passed.
Just when she thought she couldn't stand another second of the tension, there was a soft knock at the door.
Three sharp taps.
The signal Lucian had taught her earlier that night.
She ran to the door, flung it open—and there he was.
Bloody, battered, but alive.
And behind him, in the darkness, something howled—a chilling, inhuman sound that froze Claire's blood in her veins.
Lucian staggered inside and slammed the door shut behind him.
"They know where you are now," he said, breathing hard.
"They're coming."
Claire stared at him, heart pounding so hard it hurt.
"This was only the beginning."