the Moon
"When the Blood Moon rises, the old vows stir.
Wolves remember what man has tried to forget."
— From the Lost Chronicles of Vaeloria.
Rain slicked the streets of Elaris, turning every reflection into a smear of crimson and silver. Neon signs blinked over puddles that looked like melted rubies, deepened by the Blood Moon hanging low over the skyline. The city was too quiet for a Friday night.
Melody Ardent raised her collar against the rain and gripped her camera tighter. The call had come an hour ago, another body, spine torn open, blood drained. Her editor had told her not to go, but Melody was terrible at listening.
The old district of Verrin Row was a forgotten maze of cobblestone alleys and abandoned theaters. Police tape fluttered in the wind like yellow ribbons of warning. When she ducked under it, the scent hit her, iron, wet fur, and something older.
The corpse lay between two dumpsters. Male. Mid-thirties. Eyes wide, chest shredded by something that wasn't human. No footprints. No blood trail. Only circles of ash burned into the bricks, like ritual marks.
She crouched to take a photo. The flash caught a crescent moon carved into the victim's wrist.
"Back away from him."
The voice was deep and steady, calm in a way that didn't belong here. Melody turned.
He stood at the alley's mouth, framed by red light. Tall. Broad-shouldered. Black hair, silver eyes that shimmered like molten mercury. His long coat gleamed with rain; his hands were stained darker than water.
"Detective?" she asked, though she already knew he wasn't.
"Something like that." His gaze flicked to her camera. "You shouldn't be here, Miss Ardent."
"Press pass," she said. "Freedom of information."
"Freedom of death." He stepped closer. "This isn't a story you want to chase."
Something about him felt wrong; the air around him charged, humming faintly. Her instincts whispered she wasn't talking to a witness, but the cause.
"What happened to him?" she asked.
He crouched beside the corpse, fingers brushing the burnt circles. Smoke curled faintly where he touched. The symbols seemed to recognize him.
Melody raised her camera again. He looked up too quickly, pupils narrowing, flashing gold.
She lowered the lens, pulse racing. "Who are you?"
"Someone trying to keep your kind alive."
Before she could respond, a growl rippled through the alley. She turned to nothing but rain.
"Behind you," he warned.
A shadow lunged from the dark massive, fur matted, eyes burning amber. Melody barely ducked before claws slashed past her face. The creature landed between them, half-wolf, half-human, teeth too long for either.
Lucien moved faster than her eyes could follow. One hand caught its throat mid-lunge; the other drove a blade of pure moonlight through its chest. The thing screamed, convulsed, and burst into ash.
Silence followed. Only rain and the sound of her heartbeat.
Melody stared at him shockingly. "What was that?"
He wiped the blade on his sleeve. The light faded as though it had never been steel, only moonfire taking shape.
"A stray," he said. "One who broke the old vow."
"The old vow?"
"You ask too many questions for a woman standing in blood."
That should have scared her. Instead, she lifted her camera and snapped a picture. "If you're going to threaten me, I might as well get on your good side."
A flicker of a smile ghosted across his lips. "You think this is a game.Vaeloria has forgotten what it's built on. You shouldn't forget things that remember."
He turned away, coat flaring with the motion.
"Wait!" she called. "Who are you really?"
He paused. The air around him trembled.
"Lucien Vareon."
The name felt ancient and heavy as a curse whispered under a thousand full moons. Then he was gone, swallowed by mist.
By the time Melody reached her car, the rain had stopped. The moon broke through clouds like a bleeding heart. Her hands shook as she set the camera down.
She replayed the footage. The corpse was clear. The markings were clear. But Lucien wasn't there. The screen glitched to static and black.
Her pulse quickened. He didn't appear on film.
At home, the clock struck midnight. The wind howled against the windows like something alive. She poured whiskey and scrolled through her photos. Every image sharp except one.
The last picture. Lucien's face blurred out completely, as if the lens refused to remember him.
She leaned back, whispering to the empty room, "What are you?"
Three knocks answered. Slow. Measured.
She froze. No one visited her this late. The air thickened, charged, electric.
"Miss Ardent." The voice outside was calm. "You shouldn't be alone tonight."only for her to find out the voice belonged to the mysterious man she'd encountered…..Lucien.
Her fingers trembled on the lock. "You followed me?"
"Something followed you," he said. "I'm here to make sure it doesn't finish what it started."
Every instinct screamed to close the door but curiosity won. She cracked it open. Lucien stood there, rain dripping from his hair, eyes glowing faintly under the moon.
Behind him, the hallway shadows shifted.
"Move," he ordered, stepping inside. His presence filled the room cold, wild, carrying the scent of pine and iron. He scanned the window, tense.
"What are you protecting me from?" she asked.
He turned. The silver in his eyes flickered gold. "Yourself," he said softly. "You looked at the moon tonight, didn't you?"
Melody frowned. "What does that have to do with"
"Then it saw you."
The words sent ice through her veins.
Lucien's fingers brushed her neck, pausing over her pulse. Something glowed beneath her skin a faint crescent of light.
He drew back, jaw tightening. "It's begun."
Before she could ask what he meant, distant howls shattered the night low, inhuman, too many to count.
Lucien's expression darkened. "They've found you."
Melody turned to the window. Shadows moved between streetlights, eyes burning amber in the dark.
"What are they?" she whispered.
He met her gaze, voice low and final.
"Wolves that forgot the moon."
Thunder cracked. The lights went out