Moonbound: The Rise Of The Alpha

Lyla Hayes stared out of the car window as the dense trees of Silverwood forest blurred by. The town’s name was etched onto a weathered wooden sign they had passed miles back, but her new home was still nowhere in sight. Her father, Mark Hayes, drove in silence, gripping the wheel tightly as if it were the only thing keeping him grounded. The faint hum of the car engine was the only sound between them.

“How much farther?” Lyla asked, her voice breaking the monotony of the drive.

“Not long now,” her father replied, his tone clipped. He hadn’t been himself since they’d packed up and left the city two days ago.

The Hayes family used to be a whole trio with Lyla, her dad, and her mom. But when her mom vanished three years ago, their world fractured. Mark had poured himself into work to keep the pain at bay, and Lyla was left to navigate the chaos of adolescence on her own. Now, with no warning, her dad had uprooted them from their suburban life and dragged them to a town she’d never even heard of.

“Why here, Dad?” Lyla pressed, glancing at him. “Why Silverwood of all places? This place looks like it belongs in a scary movie.”

“It’s quiet. A fresh start,” Mark muttered without meeting her gaze.

Lyla sighed and sank back into her seat. A fresh start. It was the kind of thing people said when they didn’t know how to explain their choices. The truth was, she didn’t want a fresh start. She wanted answers, answers about her mom’s disappearance, about the empty nights that had hollowed their family, and why her dad thought hiding in the middle of nowhere was a good idea.

The car rounded a bend, and the forest opened up to reveal the town. Silverwood was small, almost unnervingly so. The main street consisted of a diner, a general store, a gas station, and a couple of other nondescript buildings. A group of teenagers loitered outside the diner, their eyes following the car as it passed.

“I think we’re the only outsiders here,” Lyla said, half-joking, but her stomach tightened. The stares from the teenagers were intense as if they could see through the glass and into her soul.

Mark didn’t respond. He simply turned down a gravel road that led to the edge of the forest, where a modest two-story house stood waiting. It was old but sturdy, its white paint faded, and its porch swing creaked in the wind.

“Home sweet home,” Mark said as he parked the car.

The house was bigger than their old apartment in the city, but it smelled faintly of damp wood and abandonment. Lyla lugged her suitcase upstairs and found her room at the end of the hall. It was simple just a bed, a dresser, and a window that overlooked the forest. She set her suitcase down and opened the window to let in fresh air.

The forest loomed just beyond the backyard, its trees stretching high into the sky. The sunlight barely pierced through the dense canopy, giving it a shadowy, mysterious quality. Lyla felt a strange pull toward it, as though the trees were whispering her name.

“Lyla!” her dad called from downstairs.

She trudged down to find him unpacking boxes in the living room. He held up a picture frame of the three of them from years ago. Her mom’s smile in the photo was radiant, her arm wrapped tightly around Lyla.

“You should keep this in your room,” Mark said, handing her the frame.

Lyla hesitated. Looking at her mom’s face brought a mixture of comfort and pain. She took the frame and nodded, but before she could say anything, Mark’s phone buzzed.

“I’ve got to take this,” he said, already heading outside.

Lyla watched him go and clenched the frame tighter. Her dad had become a master at avoidance, dodging any conversation that came too close to the truth. She was sick of it.

That evening, Lyla decided to explore the backyard. The setting sun bathed the forest in shades of gold and amber, but the deeper she walked into the woods, the darker it became. She hadn’t planned to go far, but something about the place called to her.

She pushed through a thicket and stumbled into a small clearing. A stream bubbled softly nearby, and the air was thick with the scent of pine and earth. For a moment, she felt oddly at peace, as if she belonged there. But then a chill ran down her spine.

Snap.

Lyla spun around. “Hello?”

No answer.

She scanned the trees, her pulse quickening. The forest was silent now, unnaturally so. She took a cautious step backwards and tripped over a root, landing hard on the ground. As she scrambled to get up, a pair of golden eyes appeared in the shadows.

Her breath hitched.

A massive black wolf stepped into the clearing, its fur glistening under the fading light. It was easily the largest wolf she’d ever seen, its size almost unnatural. Its eyes locked onto hers, and for a moment, she couldn’t move.

Then, just as quickly as it had appeared, the wolf turned and bounded back into the forest. Lyla sat frozen, her heart pounding.

“What the hell…” she whispered.

The next morning, Lyla reluctantly prepared for her first day at Silverwood High. The school was even smaller than she’d imagined. Walking through its halls, she felt like every pair of eyes was on her.

“New girl, huh?” a voice said behind her.

Lyla turned to see a girl with curly auburn hair and a friendly smile.

“Yeah. Just moved here,” Lyla replied.

“I’m Clara,” the girl said, extending a hand. “Welcome to Silverwood. We don’t get a lot of new faces here.”

“That’s becoming pretty obvious,” Lyla said with a smirk.

Clara laughed. “Don’t worry. You’ll get used to the staring. People around here are… curious.”

Lyla wasn’t sure if “curious” was the right word. Something was unsettling about the way some of the students looked at her like they were assessing her.

One of those students was Eli Blackwood.

Lyla noticed him almost immediately a tall, brooding boy with dark hair and piercing green eyes. He sat in the corner of the classroom, his gaze flickering to her only briefly before returning to his notebook. He radiated an intensity that made her both intrigued and uneasy.

“Who’s that?” Lyla asked Clara during lunch, nodding toward Eli’s table.

Clara followed her gaze and lowered her voice. “That’s Eli. He’s… complicated. Doesn’t talk much to anyone.”

“Why?”

Clara hesitated. “Let’s just say he has his reasons. Silverwood has its secrets, Lyla, and sometimes it’s better not to ask too many questions.”

That night, Lyla couldn’t sleep. The image of the black wolf haunted her. Against her better judgment, she grabbed a flashlight and ventured back into the forest.

The air was colder this time, and the silence felt heavier. As she walked, she felt the same pull as before, as if something or someone was guiding her.

She reached the clearing again and froze. Standing there, bathed in the moonlight, was Eli.

“What are you doing here?” he asked sharply, his voice low and commanding.

“I could ask you the same thing,” Lyla shot back.

“This isn’t a place for you,” Eli said, his tone softening slightly. “It’s dangerous.”

Lyla crossed her arms. “I’m not afraid of the dark if that’s what you’re implying.”

Eli sighed and stepped closer, his eyes searching hers. “You don’t understand. There are things in this forest you’re not ready for.”

Before Lyla could respond, a distant howl echoed through the trees. It was deep and haunting, sending a shiver down her spine.

Eli tensed. “You need to leave. Now.”

“Why? What’s going on?”

“Just go!” he snapped, his voice filled with urgency.

Lyla hesitated but saw the seriousness in his eyes. She turned and ran back toward the house, her mind racing.

Something was happening in Silverwood, something far beyond her understanding. And Eli Blackwood was at the centre of it.