Moonstruck Hearts

The scent hit me first.

It was sharp and clean, like pine needles crushed underfoot after a storm. But underneath it was something wilder—something untamed. It wrapped around me, sneaking into my lungs, making my heart pound for no reason at all.

I stopped mid-step in the crowded hallway of Ravenwood High, my fingers tightening around the strap of my backpack.

"Earth to Elena?"

A manicured hand waved in front of my face. Claire.

I blinked, shaking off the sudden rush of dizziness. "Sorry. What were you saying?"

Claire sighed dramatically. "Ugh, please don’t tell me you're still thinking about that dream."

My stomach twisted.

The dream. The same one that had haunted me for weeks now—always the same, always just as vivid. A dark forest, moonlight filtering through the trees. A low growl behind me. And then, golden eyes locking onto mine from the shadows.

A whisper, deep and familiar, calling my name.

I’d wake up gasping for air, my skin burning like I’d been touched. But I hadn’t told Claire all of that.

I forced a shrug. "I barely remember it."

She huffed, clearly not convinced, but let it go. "Well, forget dreams, because real life just got very interesting."

She hooked her arm through mine and jerked her head toward the lockers ahead.

"Check him out."

I followed her gaze—and my breath caught in my throat.

A guy leaned against the lockers like he belonged there, despite the fact that I’d never seen him before in my life. Tall. Broad shoulders. Black T-shirt stretched over a frame that was built like something out of a movie. His hair was dark, slightly messy, like he didn’t care—but not in the way most guys at Ravenwood High tried too hard to pull off. This was effortless. Natural.

But it wasn’t just his looks that made my pulse skitter.

It was his presence.

The air around him seemed charged, like the space around him was too still, too controlled. Like he was holding back something powerful, just barely restrained.

And then he lifted his head.

His eyes locked onto mine.

I forgot how to breathe.

Golden.

The same shade from my dream.

No. No, it had to be a trick of the light. Maybe he was just standing near one of the classroom windows, the sun playing tricks on me. Maybe—

"Who is he?" I forced the words out, my voice steadier than I felt.

"New kid," Claire whispered, like she was delivering top-secret intel. "Transferred from some fancy private school upstate. No one knows much about him. But get this—his last name? Wolfe."

The word sent an unexpected shiver down my spine.

Coincidence. That’s all it was.

Still, I couldn’t shake the feeling creeping over me. That deep, bone-deep awareness. Like I knew him—but I didn’t.

I turned away, but I could still feel his stare.

Intense. Unrelenting.

And then, he smirked.

It was subtle. Barely there. But something about it felt dangerous—like he knew something I didn’t.

My pulse thundered.

Then, just as I started to look away, something warm brushed against my skin—light as a whisper but impossible to ignore.

Like an invisible thread snapping into place between us.

My breath hitched.

It wasn’t possible.

I didn’t know who he was.

But some part of me—deep down, instinctively—recognized him.

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