Await The Moon

. She worked late at the dusty, forgotten bookshop, organizing ancient scrolls beneath the glow of a single, flickering bulb. It was past m

wasn't

shop. Clara froze, her hand hovering over a book of obscure folklore. The light outside the

ring; it simply twitched, as

ted the air in the small space. His hair was the color of midnight, and his eyes, a startling amber, swept the room until

Lycan'," he said, his voice a low, gravelly

sly," she read from the man's handwritten note, th

p closer. "Have yo

onsly turned his back to retrieve the book, a flash of something dark and complex moved under the cuff of his jacket-a sc

into hers. "You have no idea, Clara," he breathed, ta