Under the wolf moon

The moon was full again tonight.

I could see it from my window as I sat cross-legged on my bed, its silvery light spilling across my floorboards like liquid ice. Even through the thin curtains, it was impossible to ignore—round and bright, impossibly large, hanging heavy in the ink-black sky like it had been waiting for me.

Something about it set my nerves on edge.

The house was quiet, unusually so. My parents had gone to bed early after yet another dinner of clipped words and disapproving glances. Ethan hadn’t come home at all, not that I’d expected him to.

But I couldn’t sleep.

No matter how hard I tried, my body wouldn’t settle.

I tossed and turned for hours before finally giving up and sitting at my window.

That was when I heard it.

At first I thought I was imagining things.

It was faint—a low, drawn-out sound that didn’t quite belong to the night.

But there it was again.

A howl.

Long. Deep. Lonely.

It cut through the stillness, sending a shiver skittering down my spine.

I leaned closer to the glass, pressing my palm against the cool pane as my heart began to race.

Another howl answered from somewhere farther away.

I didn’t know why, but the sound called to me in a way I couldn’t explain, tugging at some quiet place inside me.

Before I could stop myself, I was standing.

I wrapped a sweater around my shoulders and slipped my feet into my sneakers, the laces left loose as I crept toward the door. Every instinct screamed that this was stupid, that I should stay in bed where it was safe and warm and predictable.

But I couldn’t.

I couldn’t ignore it.

The air outside was crisp and sharp, biting at my cheeks and fingers as I slipped into the backyard. The moon painted everything silver and blue, washing the familiar trees and fences in otherworldly light.

I stood there for a moment, letting my eyes adjust to the shadows, listening.

There it was again.

That same haunting, bone-deep howl.

It sounded closer now.

I turned toward the woods at the edge of our property, my breath fogging in the chill as I started walking.

The trees loomed taller than usual in the moonlight, their bare branches reaching toward the sky like blackened fingers. The grass beneath my feet was damp and cool, each step sending a little thrill of fear and exhilaration through me.

Somewhere deep down, I knew I shouldn’t be here.

But curiosity pulled me forward, each crunch of leaves beneath my shoes somehow louder in the silence of the night.

The farther I walked, the stranger the air felt—thicker somehow, charged with something I couldn’t name.

And then I heard it.

A branch snapped just ahead.

I froze, my breath catching in my throat as my eyes darted toward the sound.

At first, I couldn’t see anything—just the thick shadows between the trunks, the moonlight pooling faintly on the forest floor.

But then…

A glimmer.

Two glowing eyes staring back at me.

I stumbled backward instinctively, my heart hammering in my chest as a huge, hulking figure stepped forward from the dark.

It was massive—easily twice the size of any normal wolf I’d ever seen.

Its fur was black as midnight, so dark it seemed to drink in the light, but those eyes…

Those eyes burned gold.

The creature stood there, still as stone, just watching me.

And somehow, through my fear, I couldn’t bring myself to look away.

Something in those eyes stopped me cold—something ancient, something familiar in a way that made no sense at all.

I couldn’t tell how long we stood there, locked in that silent, impossible stare.

Seconds. Minutes.

And then—just like that—it turned.

It slipped back into the trees without a sound, its dark shape melting into the shadows until there was nothing left but the faintest whisper of branches swaying in its wake.

I stood there alone, shivering—not just from the cold, but from something else.

Something I didn’t have words for.

My legs finally gave a little, and I dropped onto a fallen log, trying to steady my breathing as my mind reeled.

Had I really just seen that?

It couldn’t have been real.

Wolves didn’t get that big.

And yet… those eyes.

That presence.

It wasn’t just an animal.

It felt like something more.

And somewhere, buried beneath the confusion and fear, was another feeling I couldn’t quite shake.

Intrigue.

The way it had looked at me—it hadn’t been hostile. It hadn’t been afraid.

It had just… seen me.

The way he did.

Jaxon.

His name came to me without warning, unbidden, leaving me breathless in the cold night air.

I wrapped my arms around myself as the moon climbed higher in the sky, its light growing colder, sharper, and I knew—deep down—that this wasn’t over.

Something was happening.

And somehow, it all led back to him.

I made my way back to the house slowly, my mind still swimming with questions I couldn’t answer.

When I finally crawled back into bed, my hands were still trembling, and my chest ached with something that felt a little too much like longing.

As I closed my eyes, I swore I could still see those golden eyes watching me from the darkness.

And even though it terrified me…

Part of me hoped they’d come back.