Luna
The morning passed in a blur, a cycle of routine that did little to ground me. English had been tedious, a class discussion about a novel I hadn't read. Math was worse—Camille's whispered jokes barely kept me from nodding off. Science offered some relief, though that quickly turned to chaos when someone knocked over a beaker, sending us all running from the classroom as the teacher tried to contain whatever chemical reaction had begun hissing from the desk.
For a while, school felt normal. Or at least, as normal as it could be with the weight of my mother's absence pressing down on me.
But normal never lasted.
Rena Trevor lingered near the vending machines at lunch, watching me in that way she always did—intense but unreadable, like she knew something I didn't. Camille noticed too, nudging my arm as we sat outside in the courtyard.
"She's doing it again," she muttered.
"I know."
"Seriously, what is her deal?" Camille demanded. "It's not like you guys have some long-standing rivalry, right?"
I shook my head. "No. But… she feels familiar, somehow."
"Familiar how?"
I hesitated, unable to put it into words. It wasn't just the way Rena watched me. It was something deeper, a strange undercurrent of recognition I couldn't place. But the last thing I wanted to do was obsess over her.
I shrugged, forcing indifference. "It doesn't matter."
Camille scoffed but dropped the subject. Still, Rena's stare lingered in the back of my mind, a shadow I couldn't shake.
---
Ethan
I sat through history class, struggling to pay attention. Ms. Calder droned on about ancient civilizations, but my focus kept drifting to Luna. She sat a few rows ahead, her fingers tapping absently against her notebook. She wasn't paying attention either.
Ever since our hallway encounter, something had shifted. I knew she felt it too—the pull, the recognition neither of us understood. But she wasn't ready. Maybe I wasn't either.
I should've ignored it. My father had made it clear: stay away. Luna wasn't pack. She wasn't our responsibility. But that logic felt thin when she was right there, so close I could hear the steady rhythm of her breathing.
Then there was Rena.
She sat in the same row as me, but her focus was elsewhere. On Luna.
I frowned. I didn't trust Rena, not fully. She played by her own rules, toeing the line between friend and foe, her loyalty a shifting thing. And the way she spoke to Luna in Biology made my instincts bristle. Cryptic words about fate and inevitability, hints at knowledge she shouldn't have.
After class, as we left the room, Luna nearly slipped on a wet patch in the hall. I caught her without thinking. Just for a second, we were close—too close. Her scent filled my lungs, something about it stirring a deep, buried memory. Our eyes met, and I saw it there, the same flicker of recognition I felt.
Then she pulled away.
"Careful," I murmured, stepping back.
She nodded, eyes wary, as if she was just as unsettled as I was.
I let her go.
---
Caelum
Samuel's house hadn't changed much since the last time I'd been here. It still had that lived-in warmth, the kind of home built by love and weathered by loss. The photo of his wife sat on the counter, watching us as we spoke in low voices.
"She doesn't know anything yet," Samuel said, rubbing a hand over his jaw. "And I intend to keep it that way."
I sighed. "She's already seeing glimpses, isn't she? The dream? The whispers?"
His silence was answer enough.
"I understand your need to protect her," I continued. "But secrets have a way of unraveling themselves. The Revenants aren't going to wait for her to figure things out at her own pace."
His jaw tightened. "I know."
Before I could press further, movement caught my attention. Luna stepped inside, her eyes flicking between us. Sharp. Curious.
She was beginning to notice the pieces that didn't fit.
---
Luna
I stopped in the doorway, eyes narrowing at the man sitting across from my father. He looked up at me, his expression unreadable but not unkind.
"Luna," he greeted.
"Hey…" My gaze flicked to my father. "What's going on?"
"Just some paperwork," my dad said too quickly, shuffling files on the table. "Graves was dropping them off."
I studied the man again. Something about him felt… different. Out of place. "You're a police officer?"
Graves smiled faintly. "Something like that."
My father shot him a warning look. I caught it, though neither of them addressed it. Before I could push further, Graves stood, nodding to my dad. "I'll be in touch."
I watched him go, unease curling in my stomach. When I turned back to my father, his expression had closed off.
"You never mentioned him before."
"We worked together a long time ago," he said. "He just transferred back."
It was a lie. Or at least, not the full truth.
I let it go—for now.
---
That night, sleep didn't come easy. When it did, it pulled me into something dark and ancient.
A forest stretched around me, trees clawing at the sky. Mist curled at my feet, thick and cloying. And whispers—endless, overlapping whispers—filled the air.
"Daughter of dusk and moonlight… the key to our return…"
My breath hitched. Shadows shifted in the mist, figures lurking just beyond sight. A symbol burned itself into the ground at my feet, pulsing with eerie light.
Then a presence loomed behind me.
I turned—
And woke up gasping.
The dream clung to me, heavy and real. I pressed trembling hands against my sheets, my pulse racing.
It wasn't just a dream.
It was a warning.