The rain fell in sheets, turning the cobblestone paths of Blackthorn College into slick, glistening ribbons under the dim glow of the streetlamps. Lila pulled her coat tighter around her shoulders, her breath fogging in the cold air as she hurried toward the library. The wind howled through the skeletal branches of the ancient oaks, their shadows stretching like grasping fingers across the quad.
*Just a little farther.*
She could feel the weight of unseen eyes on her back—the same sensation that had haunted her for weeks. Ever since the night she'd found the locket buried beneath the old willow, the one with the crescent moon engraved on its tarnished surface. The whispers had started then, soft at first, like the rustle of leaves, but growing louder, more insistent.
A hand grabbed her wrist, yanking her into the alcove of the humanities building. Lila gasped, her heart hammering against her ribs, but the fear dissolved the moment she recognized the storm-gray eyes staring down at her.
"Kieran," she breathed.
"You shouldn't be out here alone," he murmured, his voice rough with concern. His thumb traced circles over her pulse point, as if reassuring himself she was real. "Not after what happened to Professor Hale."
Lila swallowed hard. The news of the professor's disappearance had spread like wildfire through campus, but only she and Kieran knew the truth—the man hadn't just vanished. He'd been taken. By *them*.
"I had to," she said, pulling a crumpled note from her pocket. The paper was damp at the edges, the ink smudged, but the words were unmistakable: *"The locket isn't yours to keep. Midnight. The old chapel. Come alone, or he dies."*
Kieran's jaw tightened. "It's a trap."
"I know," Lila whispered. "But if they have Elias—"
His fingers curled around hers, cutting her off. "We'll get him back. Together."
The determination in his voice steadied her, but the dread pooling in her stomach refused to fade. Elias had been the first to warn her about the locket, about the secret society that guarded its power. And now he was paying the price for her curiosity.
They moved through the shadows, the rain masking their footsteps. The old chapel loomed ahead, its spire piercing the storm clouds like a dagger. The doors creaked open at their approach, as if expecting them.
Inside, the air was thick with the scent of damp stone and burning candles. The flickering light revealed a circle of hooded figures, their faces obscured. At their center, Elias knelt, his hands bound, his lip split and bleeding.
"Lila," he rasped, his eyes widening in alarm. "You shouldn't have come."
One of the figures stepped forward, pulling back their hood to reveal a face Lila knew all too well—Professor Vance, her mythology lecturer. His smile was cold, devoid of the warmth he'd once shown in class.
"You've been meddling in things beyond your understanding, Miss Hart," he said, his voice smooth as poisoned honey. "The locket belongs to the Order. And so do you."
Kieran stepped in front of her, his body tense. "She's not going anywhere with you."
Vance chuckled. "Brave words from a boy who doesn't even know what he is."
Lila's breath hitched. Kieran had always been different—stronger, faster, his senses sharper than any human's. But he'd never told her why.
The professor's gaze flicked to the locket around her neck. "Give it to me, or watch your friends suffer."
Her fingers trembled as she reached for the clasp. But before she could remove it, Kieran's hand closed over hers.
"Don't," he said softly. "It's the only thing protecting you from them."
Vance's patience snapped. "Take them!"
The figures surged forward. Kieran moved like lightning, knocking two of them aside before they could react. Lila grabbed Elias's arm, dragging him toward the door, but a sharp pain lanced through her skull as Vance's voice echoed in her mind, commanding her to *stop*.
She froze, her limbs locking in place. The locket grew warm against her skin, its glow pulsing in time with her frantic heartbeat.
*"You can't fight us, Lila,"* Vance whispered inside her head. *"The moon's power runs in your blood. You were always meant to be ours."*
Kieran roared her name, but his voice sounded distant, drowned out by the rush of blood in her ears. The world tilted, the chapel walls dissolving into darkness.
And then—silence.
When she opened her eyes, she was no longer in the chapel. She stood in a moonlit glade, the trees whispering secrets in a language she almost understood. A figure waited beneath the silver light, their features blurred, their presence both familiar and terrifying.
*"Welcome home, daughter,"* the figure said.
Lila's knees buckled. The truth crashed over her like a wave—she wasn't just a girl who'd stumbled upon a cursed locket.
She was the key to unlocking it.
And the Order would stop at nothing to claim her.
---
Kieran's voice shattered the vision. "Lila!"
She gasped, reality snapping back into place. Vance lay unconscious at her feet, the other figures recoiling as the locket's glow intensified.
Kieran grabbed her hand. "Run!"
They burst into the storm, the chapel doors slamming shut behind them. Elias kept pace, his breath ragged. "What the hell was that?"
Lila didn't answer. She couldn't. The whispers in her mind had grown louder, clearer.
And for the first time, she understood them.
The locket wasn't just a trinket.
It was a promise.
And the moon was calling her name.