The road to Mystery Hollow was cloaked in mist, curling around the tall pines like ghostly fingers. Each mile stretched longer than the last, twisting and winding through the dense forest that flanked the narrow road. Mia's hands gripped the steering wheel so tightly that her knuckles ached, but she didn't dare loosen her grip. The memory of her family's funeral was still raw, a relentless ache in her chest. Their faces haunted her: the soft sorrow in her mother's eyes, the strength in her father's hands, and the overwhelming absence that now filled her life.
She had cried in the car on the way here, letting tears fall freely as the town grew nearer, but now she pressed them away, focusing on the drive, the mist, and the sharp scent of wet pine in the air. Mystery Hollow emerged through the fog like something from a storybook: cobblestone streets winding between weathered cottages, their chimneys puffing thin streams of smoke into the gray sky. Lamplights flickered on, casting long, trembling shadows. The town was silent in a way that felt unnatural, as if it were holding its breath.
Mia parked in front of The Hollow Hearth Inn, the small sign swaying slightly in the evening breeze. It was quaint and welcoming, a soft golden glow spilling from the windows, promising warmth and safety. She stepped inside, shivering despite her coat, and was immediately met with the comforting scent of woodsmoke, herbs, and freshly baked bread. The innkeeper, a kindly older woman with sharp, inquisitive eyes, offered her a warm smile.
"I have a room for you, dear," the woman said, handing her a brass key. "Number seven, up the stairs. Dinner will be served soon if you're hungry. You look like you could use it."
Mia nodded, forcing a smile, and climbed the creaking staircase to her room. The small space was cozy, with a thick quilted bed, a writing desk, and a window overlooking the misty town. She set her backpack down and pulled out the small box she had found at her family's home—a collection of photographs, letters, and scraps of information about the parents she had never known. She traced her fingers over the images, feeling a pulse of warmth, like a heartbeat in her own chest.
After unpacking, she wandered outside the inn briefly, letting the cold air bite at her cheeks. That was when she noticed a figure lurking in a shadowed alley. Heart hammering, she froze as the man stepped forward, his expression twisted with menace.
Panic surged through her, raw and uncontrollable, and something inside her flared—a strange, wild energy she didn't understand. Her chest burned, her limbs tingled, and before she knew what she was doing, the man fell, motionless. Horror and disbelief hit her all at once. What had she just done?
Did I…? No, that can't be… she thought. Her mind spun. She pressed her hands to her mouth, heart hammering. Something inside her had awoken—a wild, dangerous power she didn't yet understand.
Fear made her legs carry her back to the inn faster than she thought possible. Once inside, she slammed the door and pressed her back against it, shaking uncontrollably. Her breath came in ragged gasps, and her hands trembled. The box sat on the desk, innocent and ordinary, yet now it felt like a symbol of everything she didn't yet understand about herself.
She sank to the edge of the bed, clutching the quilt around her. Sleep came fitfully, haunted by visions of glowing eyes and shadows that moved with intent. Somewhere deep inside, a spark had been lit—something fierce, untamed, and terrifying. Three days. That was all she had until the next full moon, when she would change completely.
The inn creaked around her as night deepened, the wind whispering through the streets of Mystery Hollow. For the first time in her life, Mia realized that the life she had known was gone. A new, dangerous, and extraordinary path had begun, and she didn't yet know where it would lead.