The Lunar Bound

ad leading into town, the edges of the forest inching closer to the winding blacktop as if they might swallow her whole if she lingered. Th

rough his belongings and finalize the sale of his property. The house she'd spent so many summers in sat vacant, the mailbox rusting and th

wouldn't go as planned came t

could give out at any moment. A few of the locals milled around in the parking lot, casting sidelong glances her way as she pulled up

of a conversation between two men standing nearby

is voice low, like he was telling a ghost story. "Over

replied his friend, shaking his head. "Ain't normal, the way

ather used to say about the woods and the dangers lurking within them. But that was years ago, back when she was young and i

eridge had always been superstitious, prone to stories about ghosts and creatures in the woods. It was one of the things she hadn't

prickle of unease that settl

ozzle, a voice called out

bor, clutching a grocery bag to her chest. She was older than Lana remembe

aging a small smile. "

s she took in Lana's face. "I was sorry to he

ver her. "Thank you. I'm just here to sort out th

e careful, dear. A lot has changed since you were last here." Her voice dr

run through her. "

d dead in the woods, like those men were saying. There's something in the forest, something dangerous

a moment, watching the last traces of sunlight disappear behind the mountains, the sky fading into a deep indigo. She'd thought she was com

-

ldhood. Old stone fences lined the edges of the property, overgrown with ivy and moss. The house loomed ahe

wind. She could almost hear her grandfather's voice, calling out from the porch, warning her not to stray too far into the woods. He'd b

d faintly of old wood and dust, like it hadn't been aired out in months. She flicked on the light, and

father sitting there, sipping his coffee and poring over his journals. She'd always thought he was eccentric, with his strange collections and endle

when she was younger. Now, with his key in hand, she pushed the door open, revealing a space filled with shelves l

the front-a crescent moon with an arrow through it. She flipped it open, skimming through pages filled with her grandfather's meticulous han

und a page that

row stronger with each passing generation, more reckless, more d

mentioned "the Bound" a few times when she was young, usually in the context of their f

mbling growl that sent a shiver down her spine. She froze, straining to hear, her he

trees swayed in the wind, casting eerie shadows across the yard. She was about to turn away

unblinking, fixed on her with a terrifying intensity. She felt a surge of fear, followed

olf-like figure, its fur dark and sleek, muscles rippling beneath its skin. It looked almost hum

uldn't be real. Werewolves were just stories, myths her gran

the night once more, she knew, d

Lakeridge from, whatever he'd dedicated his