Chapter 3: The Man In The Moonlight

Maeve. 

Strength surged through me like lightning in bone, cold, sharp, alive. My back arched and a gasp ripped free.

Run.

The voice wasn’t mine. It pulsed wildly inside my skull. Run, Maeve. Run. Don’t stop.

Before thought could catch up, my body obeyed. I lurched to my feet—bare, blood-soaked—and bolted.

The forest blurred past. Wind screamed in my ears. I’d never run this fast, never moved like this. My feet pounded the earth, slipping and scraping. Thorns tore at my calves. Bark shredded my arms. But I didn’t stop.

I couldn’t stop.

My lungs burned. My legs bled. The voice kept screaming: Go. Go. Go.

Pain chased me. Memory chased me. I ran harder.

I leapt over a fallen log, crashed through brush. My toes split on stone. Ribs ached. Breath came ragged and broken. The world tilted—but still, I ran. Minutes bled into hours. Or maybe time slipped away completely.

Pain drove through my leg like a sharp spear. My vision shattered. The sky spun. “No—no, please,” I begged the darkness. “Not yet—”

The ground rushed up.

This time, I didn’t get back up.

.

.

Light crept through the cracked walls, threading between gaps like tiny fingers on my skin. 

My eyes opened slowly, and everything ached. Not just pain—confusion curled within my chest like a snake choking my

lungs.

Where….? Where was I? The air was sharp with the bite of herbs.

A shadow crawled along the walls of the room.

“Oh, You are awake,” A woman stepped into sight. Her sunken eyes lingered on me like a hawk watching the rabbit it had labeled its meal.

I tried lifting my head. “Ouch,” I winced, and immediately regretted it. The world tilted—a room I had never seen. “Where…? “ my voice cracked, panic crawled beneath my skin like tiny ants. 

“You are safe now, child,” she leaned in, inspecting the bruises on my hand. “I found you in the woods half dead, so I brought you back with me.” A smile ghosted across her lips 

Safe? The word that hovered in the air; was such a word meant for me?

I tried again “Where exactly am I? My throat tightened around the words.

“White Moon, child. You should try moving just yet you were out for two whole days.”

White Moon. She didn’t need to say more. The name rang in my ears like a warning bell. A place isolated, ruled with iron laws, my fingers twitched against the blanket. White Moon. I’d clawed out of one hell, only to land in another.

A glint caught my eye. I turned slowly, aching to find my reflection fractured in a cracked mirror. 

A streak of white slashed through the black of my hair. When did that happen? 

“You’re healing faster than anyone I’ve seen,” the woman said as if reading my thoughts. “The goddess must love you, where are you from child?”

Love? Me? Don’t make me laugh. If the Goddess had anything for me, it was pure hatred.

If she knew where I was from—they’d drag me back. Back to him. To Johan.

“I don’t remember,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. 

She watched me. Long enough that the silence pressed on my chest. Then, at last, she nodded. “It’s fine. Let it come back in pieces.”

I almost believed 

“But in white moon, outsiders are not allowed. Why did you save me?”

“What kind of mother leaves a dying child to rot for the sake of some rules?”

I stared at her, something inside me shifted. I had learned not to trust easily. The hard way. 

“If you remain here, you will be safe.” Her tone changed “But stay out of sight, if you want to live.”

Hope clawed at my ribs—thin and fragile.

She disappeared briefly, then returned with a bowl. “Drink.”

I was starving. Weak. But she wouldn’t have brought me here just to finish me off, would she? My fingers wrapped around the bowl. The liquid was bitter, unlike its cherry-like scent. I drank fast, ignoring the burn in my throat.

I told myself I’d stay a day—just a day.But one day bled into another then another. I moved around as timidly as I could, blending in, helped with herbs and hid behind half truths. Smiled when spoken to. Never too much. Never too long. My body healed faster by the day.

Then came the full moon. It spilled a silver glow through the cracks in the walls, illuminating. It reminded me of the blade—the one Johan had pierced my wolf with.

“There’s a ceremony tomorrow,” the woman said. While we organized the herbs. Her voice trembled. “The Alpha will be there, along with the elders—It’s a very important gathering.

My heart stuttered, my head nodded slowly forcing the knot down my throat.

She reached under the table and slid a worn photo toward me. A plant—narrow silver leaves, tiny glowing blossoms. “I need this herb,” she said. “It blooms only under the full moon. I can’t leave the Alpha’s side—not tonight.”

Her voice dropped lower. “Midnight. No one can see you. And don’t—under any circumstances—go near the old stream.”

I had at least owed her this much. 

“I’ll get it,” I assured her 

Her smile was fragile. “Thank you.”

So I did at midnight, Night bled through the trees in thick shadows as I slipped into the woods. Leaves whispered beneath my feet.

The forest thinned. I was completely lost, till I heard the rush of water ahead, the old stream. It glowed under the moonlight. 

A figure stood in the middle. 

A man, deep in the stream, Water caressed the breadth of his back, sliding slowly over muscle carved like myth.

Moonlight caught each ridge, each hollow, like it couldn’t look away.

His hair was dark like the wings of a raven slicked back. 

A tattoo inked across his back—an entwined wolf and sword.

I froze, drawn to the figure of perfection before me. He turned his head, and his piercing blue eyes locked on me. “Do you enjoy watching men take a swim naked?” His deep voice snapped me back to my senses.

Heat crept up my neck. “No, I wasn't watching you.”

A smirk tugged at his lips as he stood—water sliding down bare skin. Unapologetically naked.

“Then why are you here?”

I dropped my gaze, cheeks burning. “I was just looking for herbs.”

“And found something better?” He winked. “This place is off limits, especially tonight.”

“I didn’t know,” I replied quickly. “I wasn’t trying to trespass. I just—got lost.” My hands waved feigning innocence as I backed away slowly.

His eyes raked over me, I couldn’t tell what he was thinking. Did he believe me? Did he not? Still he nodded. “What herb?” 

I reached into my pocket and pulled out the photo. Handed it to him.

He glanced at it, then smiled—just barely. “Come on. I’ll show you where it grows.”

“I don’t want to bother you,” I stuttered 

He chuckled, low and dry. “You’re lost. Planning to find your way by guessing?”

The woods behind me were shadows and whispers. My fingers tightened around the photo.

“Fine,” I said. “Please lead the way.” I couldn’t help it. There was something about him—unreal. Magnetic. Like the forest bent around him.

Finally, he stopped. His fingers stretched in front. “There.”

The herb stood in a small clearing, leaves of silver. I knelt, fingers gentle as I plucked each stem. When I looked up—he was gone.

No sound. No scent. Nothing but moonlight and mist.

Like he’d never been there at all.

There was just a question in my head 

Who was he? Or rather—what was he?