The forest was alive with whispers.

Luna Everly tightened her grip on the strap of her satchel, her boots crunching softly against the frost-kissed leaves. The full moon hung low in the sky, its silver light filtering through the dense canopy above. It was a night that felt too quiet, too still—as if the world itself was holding its breath.

She shouldn't have been out here. Not this late, not alone. But the old herbalist in the village had been desperate for moonflowers, and Luna had never been one to turn down a plea for help. Besides, the forest had always felt like a second home to her, even if the villagers whispered warnings about the creatures that lurked in its shadows.

"Just a few more steps," she murmured to herself, her breath visible in the cold air. The moonflowers grew in a clearing not far from here, their petals glowing faintly under the moon's gaze. She could already see the soft, ethereal light they cast, beckoning her forward.

But as she stepped into the clearing, the air shifted. A low growl reverberated through the trees, sending a shiver down her spine. Luna froze, her heart pounding in her chest. She wasn't alone.

From the shadows emerged a figure—no, a beast. Its fur was as dark as midnight, its eyes glowing like molten gold. A werewolf. Luna's breath hitched as she took a step back, her mind racing. She had heard the stories, of course—of the Shadowmoon Pack that ruled these woods, of their ruthless Alpha who tolerated no trespassers. But she had never believed they were real.

The werewolf prowled closer, its gaze locked on hers. Luna's instincts screamed at her to run, but her feet felt rooted to the ground. She could see the power in its movements, the way its muscles rippled beneath its fur. This was no ordinary wolf. This was something ancient, something primal.

"I—I didn't mean to intrude," she stammered, her voice trembling. "I just needed the moonflowers. I'll leave, I swear."

The werewolf tilted its head, as if considering her words. For a moment, Luna dared to hope that it would let her go. But then its lips curled back in a snarl, revealing sharp, gleaming fangs.

Before she could react, the beast lunged.

Luna stumbled backward, her satchel slipping from her shoulder as she fell to the ground. She braced herself for the impact, for the pain of teeth sinking into her flesh. But it never came.

Instead, the werewolf stopped mere inches from her, its breath hot against her skin. Its golden eyes bore into hers, and for a moment, Luna felt as if it could see straight into her soul. There was something in its gaze—something that made her heart ache in a way she couldn't explain.

And then, just as suddenly as it had appeared, the werewolf turned and vanished into the shadows.

Luna sat there, her chest heaving, her mind reeling. What had just happened? Why had it spared her?

As she reached for her satchel, her fingers brushed against something cold and metallic. She picked it up, her breath catching as she realized what it was—a silver pendant in the shape of a crescent moon, its surface etched with strange, ancient symbols.

She had never seen it before. But as she held it in her hand, she felt a strange warmth spread through her, as if the moon itself was whispering to her.

And in that moment, Luna knew that her life would never be the same.