The sky was darkening as I closed up Moonbeam Café, casting long shadows across Moonstone's quiet streets. The air felt thick, heavy with an energy I couldn't quite place. My fingers tingled, warmth spreading up from my hands—right where the faint, silvery markings curled along my skin. I clenched my fists, trying to ignore the pulse that felt almost alive beneath my skin.
Tonight felt… off. It wasn't just the fading light or the empty café; it was a nagging sensation, like I was being watched.
I forced myself to focus on wiping tables and stacking chairs, but the unease lingered, stubborn as a shadow. Just as I was about to lock up, I caught a glimpse of movement outside the window, a flash in the corner of my eye. I turned sharply, my heart in my throat, but the street was empty.
Stop it, I told myself. I was just being paranoid. But even so, the tingling under my skin didn't ease.
The café door jingled behind me, and I didn't need to turn around to know who it was. I could feel him—his presence filled the room, steadying me and, somehow, heightening my tension at the same time.
"Maya." Ethan's voice was low and familiar, as grounding as the earth beneath my feet. I turned to face him, meeting his deep blue gaze. But tonight, his usual calm held an edge I hadn't seen before. He looked as if he'd come straight from some kind of… incident. His shirt was torn at the collar, and I noticed faint scratches on his hands.
"You're here late," I murmured, trying to keep my tone light. "Didn't expect you."
He shrugged, but his gaze didn't waver. "I felt like I needed to check on you. Call it… instinct."
An uneasy silence settled between us. His eyes drifted to my hands as I wiped the counter, and I realized too late that I'd been rubbing them, trying to smother the unnatural warmth. I quickly hid them behind my back, but I knew he'd seen.
"Are you okay?" he asked, frowning. "You've been fidgeting with your hands since I got here."
I forced a laugh, though it felt hollow. "It's nothing… just an itch."
But the faint glow of the markings must have given me away. His eyes narrowed slightly, like he was trying to piece something together.
"Maya, I know there's more to you than you let on," he said softly, his voice barely a whisper. "I can sense it. Your family… the rumors… there's truth to it, isn't there?"
His words hit a nerve, and I fought the urge to pull away. I'd spent my life hiding this part of myself, burying the secrets my family had drilled into me to keep. But part of me wanted to tell him, wanted to let him in.
"Ethan, please…"
He took a step closer, his presence a warmth that steadied me in a way nothing else could. "I won't push you. Just know that I'm here. Whatever's going on, you don't have to go through it alone."
The sincerity in his voice made my chest ache. For a brief moment, I allowed myself to feel the comfort he offered. But before I could respond, a sharp sound of footsteps outside shattered the quiet. A second later, the café door jingled again.
"Well, isn't this cozy."
My pulse spiked, and I turned to see a tall figure silhouetted in the doorway. Even without seeing his face, I knew who it was. Caleb. Moonstone's infamous werewolf hunter. He stepped inside, his eyes narrowing as he took in the scene.
Ethan shifted closer to me, his hand brushing against my wrist, as if to shield me. "What do you want, Caleb?"
Caleb's gaze was cold, piercing, and when his eyes met mine, I felt something dark flicker within them—recognition, disdain, maybe even a trace of fear. "Just thought I'd pay a visit. After all, it's my job to keep an eye on anything… unnatural that happens in this town."
I felt a spark of defiance rise, the urge to tell him exactly where he could shove his "visit." But I knew better than to provoke him. Caleb's smile was slow, twisted. "The Blackwoods have always been a bit of a wildcard, wouldn't you say?"
Ethan's grip tightened on my wrist, a silent reminder to stay calm. But something in Caleb's presence, in the way he looked at me, stirred a defiant fire within me.
"I don't know what you're talking about," I replied, keeping my voice steady, even though my heart was racing.
Caleb's smile widened, cold and calculating. "Sure you don't. But here's a warning, Maya—your family's… heritage makes you a danger to this town. People like you should know when to keep quiet, and when to leave well enough alone."
The urge to lash out was overwhelming, but Ethan stepped forward, his voice low, barely concealing a growl. "That's enough, Caleb. She hasn't done anything wrong."
Caleb tilted his head, his gaze flickering between us with a look of amused interest. "I wonder if you'd feel the same, Ryder, if you knew what she really was. But then, maybe you do know. Maybe you just don't care about what it could cost you."
The silence that followed was thick, oppressive, his words pressing down on me like a weight I couldn't shake. But beneath the fear, something else stirred—anger. I was tired of hiding, tired of people like Caleb telling me who I could and couldn't be.
As he turned to leave, Caleb paused in the doorway, casting one last, mocking smile over his shoulder. "One more thing. Tell your grandmother that her little… collection might not be as safe as she thinks. Some things aren't meant to be meddled with."
And then he was gone, leaving a tense silence in his wake.
Ethan let out a slow breath, his hand still on my wrist. "Maya, we need to talk."
The warmth of his touch should have calmed me, but instead, it only made the storm inside me rage harder. I looked down, my voice barely above a whisper. "Ethan… if you knew what I was, what I could be—would you still want to be here?"
He met my gaze, his eyes unwavering. "Maya, I'm not leaving. Whatever's coming… we'll face it together."
For a moment, his words soothed the turmoil within me. But Caleb's warning still echoed in my mind, darker than any shadow. As I looked down at my hands, the marks on my skin glowed brighter, pulsing with a rhythm that felt like a heartbeat—a summons I couldn't ignore.