Dark Secrets Behind The Luna | Read Free Preview
Read chapters 1–3 of Dark Secrets Behind The Luna free. Unlock the full ebook when you are ready to keep going.
Chapter 1 — My Return
Lyra's POV
Before I opened my eyes, I took a moment to savor the air. It was crisp, clean, and gently laced with the fading warmth of summer. The early breath I drew felt friendly, familiar, and full of home. Autumn was creeping in; I could feel it in the slight chill brushing against my skin.
I smiled before I could see anything. Even with my vision still adjusting, I could make out the familiar shapes in my room: the wooden cupboard next to my bed, the dangling yellow bulb swaying from its worn wire above. I had to be careful not to hit it when I stretched and I did.
Golden shafts of light streamed through the gaps in my window, casting soft halos on the walls. One patch landed on the painting of a lion and her cub in the corner. Well, it was my favorite animal so I turned it into a mural. Another glow highlighted the small wooden box I kept beside my bed, the one housing one of my most important possessions: a .38 special revolver.
Aside from a full-length mirror I’d hung beside the door, my room lacked any girlish charm. Then again, how many seventeen-year-old girls kept a gun in a box in their room?
Still, it was good to be home.
My grandfather raised me like a ranger, like a rancher, and like someone who had to be ready for anything. I started riding horses at seven; by ten, I was fast enough to challenge grown men. On my fifteenth birthday, he gave me Clover—a striking white horse with wild eyes and a gentle soul. A gift I treasured more than anything.
Grandpa wasn’t just family. He was a parent, my mentor, my safe place. And today was his birthday.
I tossed back the covers and planted my feet on the leathery floor, only to find it slick and wet.
“Ugh!” I yelped, losing my balance. My legs splayed awkwardly as I hit the ground.
Pain shoots up my thigh and hip before settling in my knees. I lay there for a moment, groaning softly while the ache simmered down.
When I finally stood, I walked to the window and twisted my neck to the left to peer outside. The sun was low, casting a crimson hue over the fields, bathing our little town in warm light. A soft breeze stirred the trees, and birdsong floated in from afar, joyful, effortless, and nostalgic. It stirred something deep in me, something the city had buried under its noise and pressure while I was at school.
I opened the creaking wooden door and stepped out into the hallway. As I descended the stairs, I was met with a low hum of chatter and laughter.
The living room was full. Men, women, and children talking in cozy groups. I offered smiles and quick apologies for being late.
Three familiar faces burst through the entryway: Emily, twenty and always energetic; Josephine, just a few months younger than me with a sharp tongue; and Abigail, the quietest of us, at sixteen.
“We’re setting up a beef barbecue on the balcony,” Emily chirped, her emerald eyes sparkling. “Grandpa asked us to handle it. But we’re short on charcoal.”
I frowned. “Didn’t Grandpa store some in the backyard shed?”
Josephine shook her head. “The fire destroyed it two months ago. Most of the supplies were destroyed. The little we had left was used up this morning.”
Aby and Josephine nodded in confirmation.
“What now?” I asked.
“We’re thinking Josephine and I will head to the mountain woods,” Emily replied. “There are coal deposits up there.”
I looked between them and then at Abigail, who had remained quiet.
“She’s staying behind,” Emily explained. “Someone’s got to manage the barbecue heat. Everything’s got to be just right.”
I raised a brow. “And what exactly am I supposed to do while you all have your parts?”
They exchanged glances and then laughed softly.
“You,” Josephine said, “are going to stay put and let us do the heavy lifting. Today’s for your grandpa. Relax.”
“Oh, please,” I huffed. “His birthday, not mine. Can you hear yourselves?”
I folded my arms. “I’ve missed hiking the hills, galloping with Clover, visiting Lake Oswego. I want to do something. Not sit around being babysat like a princess. Right, Abigail?”
“Ugh,” Abigail replied, furrowing her brows. She rarely said much, she preferred silence to revealing her stutter to people.
Emily tried to interject. “But—”
“But nothing.” I cut her off with a sharp glare, though the frustration in my chest wasn’t aimed at them. No one needed to feel bad today.
I sighed. Their concern was genuine. I could feel it in the softness of Emily’s voice and the glances they shared. They wanted to spare me from stress. Sweet, but unnecessary.
“You know what?” I grinned, wrapping my arms dramatically around Emily’s neck. “You’re going to stay behind and watch the beef while we go charcoal hunting. You’ve always been the kitchen queen anyway.”
Emily burst into laughter, shaking her head as if to say, you win. I darted upstairs to change, the girls following suit. I hadn’t seen Grandpa yet, but I was sure I would once we returned.
I drove his old truck, it was faster and had enough room to carry the coal. I parked under a grove of trees, the rocky terrain making further driving impossible. After a quick inspection of the tires, I turned to my friends.
“This is as far as we go. From here, it’s boots and muscle. Abigail, grab the shovels and the bag.”
Abigail obeyed. The crunch of dried leaves beneath our feet harmonized with the soft hush of the wind as we hiked.
“Whoa!” I stumbled, nearly twisting my ankle in a hidden ditch.
“Watch it,” Josephine called. “Don’t break your leg. No boyfriend’s coming to rescue you.”
“Sorry,” Abigail muttered with a grin.
“Maybe we could call Ethan,” I teased, glancing at Josephine. “He’d be delighted to help.”
Josephine rolled her eyes. “Ethan and I are ancient history. I’ve forgotten the name.”
“Since when?”
“Since I heard he was cheating.”
“Heard?” I asked, raising a brow. “From who?”
“Forget the source.”
I snorted. “Tell me you're sixteen without telling me you're sixteen.”
“What are you implying?” she snapped. “Emily and Abigail know too. I’m not bluffing.”
“Ugh,” Abigail said quickly, shaking her head. “Nope. No idea.”
That broke me. I burst into laughter. Abigail’s instant denial was comedy, seriously.
Josephine scowled at her. “Really?”
“Josephine,” I said, still catching my breath, “we don’t have to always agree with you. And Abigail doesn’t owe you loyalty in gossip.”
“But she’s heard this before!”
“Which is exactly why it’s impressive she didn’t side with you this time. That kind of clarity might save your butt someday.”
Josephine huffed. “Save my ass, my foot.”
She stomped past us, shovel in hand, and marched ahead.
Abigail flashed a sheepish smile. We let Josephine lead for a bit until she realized she had no idea where she was going. Quietly, I took the lead again.
After fifteen silent minutes, we found it, the old coal deposit.
A shallow cave opened like an arch on the side of the mountain. Thick, tangled tree roots draped over its mouth like webs. A fallen red cedar, massive and ancient, lay across the ground, forcing us to climb over.
We made it inside.
“Wow,” Abigail whispered, her voice hushed by the weight of the dark. “Here… it’s quiet.”
Chapter 2 — He Is The One
Lyra's POV
Josephine and I dug while Abigail packed the coals we unearthed into the canvas bags we’d brought. After a few minutes, Abigail made an uncomfortable face.
“Pee,” she rasped.
I blinked at her, frowning. “What?”
“Pee.”
“You wanna pee?” I asked, confused.
Aby nodded.
“Be an adult. You don’t need permission.”
She scrambled up the rocky slope that led to the cave entrance and vanished into the forest beyond.
“Where’s she going?” Josephine asked.
I didn’t answer. Silence settled over us for a moment, broken only by the scraping of metal on stone.
“You know,” I began, “I’ve been meaning to tell you, you're quick to anger, Josephine. That doesn’t quite suit a girl with such beauty.”
She kept working, and didn't look up. “What do you mean?”
“Not everyone has to agree with us all the time. Sometimes, we agree to disagree and that’s life. And with time, we learn to let go of certain attitudes. This... should be one of them.”
Josephine dropped her gaze, hiding her expression. We worked for a while longer, sweat collecting in my palms and I could no longer hold the shovel firmly.
“I think we’ve done enough,” I said. “Let’s take as much as we can carry.”
“Right.” Her voice had softened.
I hoisted the cotton bag, sturdy enough for the weight of coal.
“Ain’t Aby supposed to be back by now?” Josephine asked.
I froze.
A prickling tension shot through my ears and into my skull. She'd been gone too long. No one pees for ten minutes or even more.
“What’s she still doing out there?” I muttered.
Silence settled in for a moment between us and I was hoping Abigail's voice would break it.
“You hear that?” Josephine said, her brows arching into a frown.
“Hear what?”
“A scream.” Her voice tightened. “I think I heard someone scream.”
My heart skipped.
“Aby,” I whispered. “Abigail. That had to be her.”
I bolted for the entrance, and Josephine was right behind me. My body surged with adrenaline as I paced up. I wasn’t sure how I went past the red cedar tree we passed on the way in, but I remembered doing it in one swift limp, like a deer chased by a predator.
“Abigail!” I shouted, scanning the trees with my eyes. “Aby!”
Josephine joined me, her voice high with worry. Another scream pierced the silence, this time to the west.
We ran toward the scream but I stopped abruptly at a point.
“I smell blood,” I said suddenly, stopping. “Josephine, I.. I smell blood.”
“You what?”
“Blood. Aby’s hurt. I know it.”
“How do you—?”
“I don’t know. I just do.”
I turned to her. “We should split up. We’ll cover more ground faster if we do”
Josephine frowned and brushed dirt off her chest. “Are you sure that’s a smart decision? Wouldn’t we be safer sticking together? What if we’re attacked?
I inclined my head backwards a little.
It was a good point. Too good. It could be exactly what the attacker wanted, I mean to separate us.
“Do you have a better idea?” I asked.
She hesitated, the fear showing in her eyes. Despite her tough look sometimes, Josephine’s heart had always been tender, or so I thought.
“Please,” I said, taking her hand. “Anything you see, scream and run to the cave. That’s our rendezvous point. I’ll come for you.”
She sucked in her lips, then nodded.
We took off in separate directions. I followed the trail where I’d last heard the scream, my eyes scanning the forest floor. Blood marked the leaves. It was fresh, small drops, but enough for a trained ranger like me to follow the marks.
The trail led into a quiet, shaded grove beneath towering trees. Some trunks were as wide as my grandfather’s truck. The silence was suffocating here and it gave me chills.
I paused.
Goosebumps prickled my arms at some point and I knew something was up.
Something was watching me. Something somewhere and I was sure of it. I scanned the shadows, my instincts screaming danger.
I couldn’t defend myself. Not without a weapon.
I tried to breathe slowly, stay calm, and think.
Josephine, was she safe?
I should’ve never let her go alone.
Then I heard that which I had been afraid to hear; a faint, mournful whimper of a human girl.
“Aby?” I called. “Abigail, is that you?”
But there was no answer.
Just as I wanted to kneel down beside a tree because I was disappointed, she was just right there, opposite me.
Abigail lay crumpled, her white top shredded and soaked in blood. Her lips looked like torn cardboard sheets, red and trembling. Her eyes were glassy, bloodshot.
“Jesus Christ,” I whispered, kneeling beside her.
I cradled her damp head, voice trembling. “What happened to you, Aby? Who did this?”
She coughed weakly, blood sputtering from her mouth. I grabbed a handkerchief and wiped her face, her shirt. “Just breathe. I’m here. Breathe.”
She lay her head in my lap, breathing shallowly.
“N-Not who,” she whispered.
“What?”
I leaned closer.
“Not who,” she repeated. “It’s a what.”
I was tense.
“What do you mean?”
“Wolf... is... here.”
I snapped my head up.
Behind me stood a massive wolf, canines gleaming red. Abigail’s blood was dripping from its mouth.
My pulse pounded in my veins, chest, and stomach.
I gently lowered Abigail’s head to the ground and rose, facing the beast.
“Dangerous,” she murmured, her breath fading.
“I know.”
The wolf paced in a circle, gauging me.
I had no weapon. Not even the shovel, we’d left those back in the cave. This thing could kill us both.
Then I saw a rock buried near Abigail. It was the size of both my fists clenched together.
I dug my fingers around it, trying to pry it loose but it was very hard and I could do little to nothing to remove it.
Perhaps, the wolf noticed. It snarled and charged against me.
I dove, narrowly avoiding its claws, though one scraped my stomach, tearing my shirt and grazing my skin.
Amid the scream, I pulled the stone with all strength until I grabbed it.
I looked back and found out Abigail wasn’t so lucky. The beast slammed her into the tree. Her head struck hard and she slumped, and remained there unconscious.
“No!” I screamed. “You motherfucker! Come at me!”
The wolf let out a deep howl. It was as though the idiot was laughing at me.
It charged again. I waited, then I hurled the stone straight at its face. The impact landed on its head and the wolf howled, staggering back, one eye gushing blood.
I didn’t smile long but I did a little. That two seconds of satisfaction wasn't bad at all. The beast wasn’t done with me.
I had nothing left to throw.
It lunged at me again, I dodged as I did before, but it anticipated my move. Its claws raked across my thigh, tearing into flesh.
“Damn!” I cried, clutching the wound.
The wolf snarled, eyes gleaming with vengeance.
It lunged again. I faked right and dove left. The move tricked it once, but it wouldn’t work again from the way I see it because it was faster.
It leapt, claws outstretched. I caught its front legs, but its hind legs drove me back. I lost my balance and hit my head on a rock.
Pain exploded in my skull and blood ran into my eyes.
I was going to die, I thought.
As the wolf reared to strike again, a blur of movement slammed into its skull. The beast tumbled, yelping, until it hit a tree with a sickening thud.
A figure stood between me and the wolf, tall and motionless. He turned slowly and there stood a man.
My heart skipped.
“W-who...” I gasped, vision blurry, “What are you?”
Chapter 3 — Man Of My Dream
Lyra’s POV
My head throbbed before I even opened my eyes. It was like something heavy pressed down on my lids, refusing to let them part. When I finally blinked them open, a fire crackled nearby, its scent sharp, herbs mixed with wood smoke. This wasn’t some accidental forest blaze. No. Someone had built this fire.
Aby lay in the corner, her breathing slow but steady. Someone had cleaned her up—no more blood, no more mess. Relief swept through me like a wave. I sat up, yawning, weak, and aching in every limb. My stomach twisted with hunger, my throat dry like dust.
How long had we been here?
"You healed real quick," a gravelly voice thundered behind me.
I jolted, spinning around.
“What would pretty ladies be doing out in the woods alone?”
Adrenaline surged, propelling me to my feet. Standing a few meters away was a man, tall, lean, athletic, with dark, fluffy hair shaved in a half-style that framed his sharp, angular face. His eyes caught me off-guard—almond-shaped, glowing faintly like volcanic light. Beautiful, calm… otherworldly.
He wore a black leather jacket over a white polo, his trouser tucked into worn brown boots caked in dried mud.
This had to be the man who saved us. But he didn’t look like someone who could kill a rabid wolf. He didn’t even look like he could yell. His face was too innocent.
I rubbed my eyes, as if clearing a fog.
“Are you okay now?” he asked, his hands buried in his pockets like he hadn’t just wrestled a beast to the ground. Like none of this ever happened.
“Yes,” I said slowly, still studying him. Who the hell was he? Was he living in these woods?
Then something flickered in my memory—his face, those eyes.
“It’s you,” I said. “I know you from somewhere.”
He offered a slight, cryptic smile. “We’ve never met.”
His voice was like velvet, rough, but warm. Dangerous, yet comforting.
I stepped a little closer, drawn in despite myself. He was still meters away, but I caught his scent: jasmine and honey. Subtle, alluring. My body leaned toward him instinctively. I snapped myself out of it.
“Never,” I whispered, shaking my head.
I shut my eyes, searching my memory, scanning my mental archive. Grandpa used to say I had a freakishly good memory—faces, dates, even weird things like grocery lists. But this time… nothing.
When I opened them again, the sunlight had slipped through the thick canopy above, landing on his face. His eyes shimmered.
“You—” I swallowed hard. “You fought that wolf. With your bare hands. It could be dead. How exactly did you do that?”
He tilted his head. “Did I?”
I frowned.
His hands remained calmly in his pockets. No tension. No pride. Like what he did meant nothing. Like it never happened.
“You did,” I insisted. “I saw you.”
He shrugged, his lips twitching into something unreadable. “Instead of asking how the hunt went… you should ask what the hunt brought.”
I narrowed my eyes. “What does that even mean?”
He crouched by the fire, feeding it more wood from a neat pile.
“What were you doing in the woods?” he asked. “You could’ve died. Both of you.”
I swallowed the guilt. He wasn’t wrong.
“I need to get us home,” I said. “My friend and I need to go as soon as possible.”
“You can’t,” he replied.
I frowned at his response.
I shook my head, anger thumping up. “I must.”
I ignored him and bent to lift Aby, but her weight was too much. My arms trembled, and I nearly dropped her carelessly. Again I tried, again I failed. My body was screaming for food, water, and rest. But I wasn’t leaving her behind. I’d rather die first than try that.
“Instead of standing there,” I snapped, tears welling up, “why don’t you help me?”
He snorted, unmoved. Just stood there like a statue watching me suffer.
I tried again. My arms gave out. At this point I realized that this was not something I could do alone no matter how many times I tried. Defeated, I dropped to my knees.
“O—kay,” I said softly. “Please. Help me carry my friend. She needs care. Proper care. Let me take her home.”
“She’ll be fine,” he said. “You don’t need to worry. She’s healing. Slower than you, though. You’re healing almost twice as fast.”
I blinked. “What?”
“You’re healing quickly.”
“Because of some medicine?” I asked. “Or—what are you saying?”
He watched me with interest, scratching his clean-shaven jaw.
“You don’t know, do you?” he asked, lowering his voice.
I stepped closer. “Know what?”
But he dodged the question.
“You shouldn’t wake her. She needs rest.”
“No. No more rest. Aby, please.” I shook her gently.
The stranger’s tone shifted. “You’re healing, but you're not indestructible. You’ll burn yourself out.”
“You don’t understand,” I said. “People are worried. Our families will come searching. And…” I hesitated, panic rushing in. “Josephine.”
His expression changed. His pupils flared golden—no, yellowish.
“What?”
“Where’s Josephine?” I whispered.
He stood straighter. “Who’s Josephine?”
Oh no.
What have I done?
Finished the preview?
Unlock the full ebook now and continue the story right away. Get instant access after purchase — no shipping, no waiting. Delivered as PDF and EPUB for reading on phone, tablet, or desktop.
👉 Unlock the Full Story — Dark Secrets Behind The Luna ($7.99)