The full moon rose like an open wound over Black Hollow.
It was red—deep, pulsing red—spilling across the treetops like blood soaked in bark. Evelyn stood on the cabin's porch, watching it climb, her heart pounding in rhythm with the forest's strange hum.
Silas hadn't spoken all evening.
He'd been sharpening blades.
Not for hunting.
For war.
---
"They're coming," he said, finally.
Evelyn turned to him. "How do you know?"
Silas didn't look at her. His hands moved steadily over the iron blade. "Because the blood moon is the last night they can reclaim their peace. If you're still alive when the sun rises—Black Hollow pays the price."
A chill slid down her spine.
> They don't just want me dead, she realized.
They need me gone.
"And if I live?" she asked.
He paused.
"The curse shifts. Weakens. Maybe ends."
"Then we fight."
He finally looked at her. "You're willing to die for this?"
"No," Evelyn whispered. "I'm willing to live for it."
---
The first arrow came before midnight.
It sank into the porch post with a thud, missing Evelyn by inches.
Silas roared. Not like a man—but like the beast. The sound tore through the forest like a crack of thunder. Shadows moved between the trees—hooded figures in black, torches glowing like devil's eyes.
"Inside. Now," Silas ordered.
But Evelyn didn't run.
She grabbed a rusted blade from the rack by the door. "I'm not hiding. This is my life they're trying to take."
His silver eyes burned into hers. Then, with the barest hint of something like pride, he nodded.
---
The cabin shook with the first blow.
They came in packs—villagers masked and armed, chanting in some forgotten tongue. Silas moved like fire, tearing through them with brutal efficiency, his claws slashing, teeth flashing.
But there were too many.
And Evelyn—cornered by one of the elders—was bleeding.
---
She stumbled back into the cabin, blood staining her dress, her vision swimming.
The elder followed, muttering, "The sacrifice must be completed."
Evelyn screamed—and suddenly, he was there.
Silas crashed through the door like death incarnate, grabbing the elder by the throat. His claws sank in. But before he could finish it—
"Silas," Evelyn gasped.
He froze, eyes wild.
"I'm okay," she said, collapsing into him. "Please. Don't lose yourself."
His breath shuddered.
And he let the elder go.
---
By dawn, the clearing was littered with blood and broken torches.
The villagers fled. The curse had not been fed.
Evelyn lay by the fire, her wound bandaged. Silas knelt beside her, silent.
"You didn't kill him," she whispered.
"No."
"Why?"
He looked at her, eyes soft for the first time.
> "Because you asked me to."
---
And as the blood moon faded into morning mist, a fragile truth settled in the air.
She had seen the monster.
She had touched the man.
And somewhere in between, something had changed.
---