MOON OF ASHES

The bus hissed as its doors folded open, releasing a puff of diesel breath into the pine-scented air. Ava Cross hesitated on the step, fingers tightening on the worn handle of her suitcase. Silverpine looked the same as the day she’d left—grey roofs hunched under mist, crooked lampposts glowing weakly—but the air felt heavier, as if the forest itself was holding its breath.She told herself she’d only come back for the funeral. Two nights, maybe three. Sign the papers, sort the house, leave. But the moment her boots touched the cracked asphalt of Main Street, the past came creeping back: the smell of wet bark, the distant howl that wasn’t quite a dog.The bus wheezed shut behind her and groaned away down the hill, leaving her alone. No one had come to meet her. She pulled her coat tighter against the chill and started walking toward the old Cross house at the edge of town.Silverpine’s main street had always been small, but now it felt shrunken, as though the buildings themselves had

Midnight crept closer.Ava sat on the cot in the back office, staring at the glowing digits on her phone. 11:47 p.m. The note from Silas burned in her hand like a live wire.She’d told herself she wouldn’t go. That she’d stay put, lock the door, wait for dawn. But the longer she stared at her father’s journal, the more the words she will awaken under the blood moon seemed to pulse on the page. No one here was giving her straight answers. Maybe Silas would.She slid the journal into her backpack and stood. The station was quiet. Somewhere down the hall a coffee pot gurgled; the lone deputy on duty was snoring in the squad room. Rowan had gone out on patrol after an urgent call from Elias — “just an hour,” he’d said. “Lock the door until I’m back.”Ava eased the lock open and slipped out.The night air smelled of wet pine and smoke. Fog wrapped around the streetlights like gauze. She pulled up her hood and walked quickly toward the edge of town, heart hammering. This is crazy, she told

Rain blurred the trees into streaks of black and silver as they ran. Ava’s legs felt like lead, each step heavier than the last. The power she’d unleashed back at the cabin had left her hollow, as if she’d burned through all the air in her lungs.“Slow down,” she gasped. “I can’t—”Silas stopped abruptly, scanning the forest with eyes that glowed faintly even in the darkness. “We’re almost there. Just a little farther.”Rowan caught up, breath ragged. He looked at Ava with a mixture of shock and worry. “What the hell was that back there? That wasn’t normal, Ava. That wasn’t—” He broke off, shaking his head. “We need to get you out of here, away from him.”Silas spun on him. “She saved your life, and you still think I’m the problem?”“You kidnapped her,” Rowan snapped. “You dragged her into your war—”“I dragged her out of a trap,” Silas shot back.“Enough,” Ava said, louder than she meant to. Both men fell silent. She bent over, hands on her knees, rain plastering her hair to her face

Retreat through the forestThe trees closed around them like dark ribs. Damp moss clung to Ava’s boots as she stumbled after Silas, the last of the ruins’ pale light still burning behind her eyes. Every step sent a dull throb up her calves. Her grip on the dagger was so tight her knuckles had gone white. It no longer glowed; it was just cold steel now, heavy and silent.Rowan walked on her other side, limping a little, his shirt ripped open where the thrall’s claws had found him. He said nothing, but his jaw was clenched hard enough to crack a tooth. Mara brought up the rear, scanning the shadows with her knives out, hair damp with mist. Caleb hovered in the middle of the line, clutching his satchel as if it contained his heartbeat.No one spoke at first. Only the muted slap of boots on wet leaves and the distant, pulsing call of the horn echoing through the trees. It came and went like a tide, low and mournful, as though something far away were breathing in time with them.Finally Ma