Moonlit Desires

First Impressions

(Chloe’s POV)

By the time I finally made it to the diner, the town was almost entirely swallowed by night. The fading daylight had given way to deep shadows, and a mist was creeping in from the forest, curling around the buildings and settling into the cracks of the cobbled streets.

The neon sign outside the diner flickered weakly, casting the word DINER in a pale, sickly green light. Not exactly the most inviting beacon of comfort, but my stomach didn’t care about aesthetics. I hadn’t eaten since breakfast, and the growl in my stomach was starting to outmatch the eerie quiet of the town.

I pushed the door open, and the little bell above it chimed, though the sound was swallowed almost immediately by the thick silence inside. The place was practically empty, save for a grizzled old man nursing a coffee at the counter and a gum-popping waitress leaning against the wall, idly flipping through her phone.

The diner had a retro vibe to it—faded vinyl booths, checkered tile floors, and a jukebox that looked like it hadn’t played a tune since the 80s. There was something strangely comforting about the peeling wallpaper and the smell of frying bacon, even if the whole place felt a little worn around the edges.

I slid into a booth by the window, setting my notebook on the table in front of me. The waitress ambled over, chewing her gum as if it were the only thing keeping her awake.

“Coffee?” she asked, sounding utterly disinterested in my existence.

“Please,” I said, offering a smile that I knew would go unappreciated. “And a burger. With fries.”

She nodded once, turned, and shuffled back toward the kitchen without so much as another word. I sighed, resting my chin in my hand as I glanced out the window. The town was even quieter now, the street deserted except for the occasional flicker of a light in a distant house.

For a moment, I let my mind drift back to the files I’d been poring over earlier—reports of strange animal attacks, witnesses who had seen things they couldn’t quite explain. The pattern of the killings, the strange tracks, the way some of the bodies had disappeared altogether... It didn’t add up.

And the town. There was something here. Something in the way the people looked at me, something in the way the trees seemed to bend toward the road as I drove in. It was like Blackthorn Ridge was hiding a secret so big that the very land itself had grown wary of outsiders.

I clicked the pen in my hand, tapping it absently against my notebook as my eyes drifted back to the forest in the distance. It was beautiful, in a wild, dangerous sort of way. The mist that hung low around the trees made them seem almost alive, shifting and twisting in the darkness.

I pulled my notebook closer, scribbling a quick note: Animal attacks near the forest. Why so many disappearances? Possible cover-up? More than wolves?

I tapped the pen against my lips, staring at the note. It wasn’t much to go on, but it was a start. I’d come here to find a story, and if there was one thing I knew, it was that this town was full of them—waiting, just under the surface.

But before I could sink too far into my thoughts, the air in the diner seemed to change.

The bell above the door jingled again, and instinctively, I glanced up. A man had stepped into the diner, and immediately, it felt like the temperature in the room dropped. He moved with a kind of quiet confidence, the kind that made everyone in the room aware of him without him saying a word. Tall, broad-shouldered, with dark, messy hair that fell in disarray just above his eyes. His clothes were simple—a dark jacket over a fitted black T-shirt—but they did nothing to hide the lean muscle beneath. He had an air of quiet control, like he belonged to the shadows outside and had just stepped into the light for a brief moment.

And those eyes.

Even from across the diner, his eyes met mine, pinning me to the spot. They were the kind of green that reminded me of the forest at twilight—deep, vibrant, and full of secrets. There was something about them, something that made my heart skip a beat, even though I had no reason to feel anything other than mild curiosity.

And yet, curiosity was exactly what was buzzing through me. That and something else. Something I couldn’t quite name.

The waitress barely acknowledged him as he slid into the booth across from me, uninvited and completely unapologetic about it. He didn’t look at her, didn’t speak to her, but the tension in the air between us was palpable. It was like the rest of the room had faded into the background, and all that was left was the heavy silence between us.

“Can I help you?” I asked, trying to sound casual, though my heart was already racing. There was something unsettling about the way he was looking at me. Not in a creepy way, but in a way that made me feel... exposed. Like he could see more than I wanted him to.

He tilted his head slightly, a faint smirk playing at the corners of his lips. “You’re the journalist.”

It wasn’t a question. He said it like it was a fact, one he’d already confirmed long before this moment.

“I am,” I replied, trying to sound more confident than I felt. “And you are?”

He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, his eyes flicked over my notebook, the one still open in front of me, his gaze lingering on the half-written notes. His smirk faded slightly, replaced by something more serious, more intense.

“Lucian,” he said finally, his voice low and smooth, like velvet over steel. There was something about the way he said his name, something that made it sound... dangerous.

“Lucian,” I repeated, raising an eyebrow. “And what exactly can I do for you, Lucian?”

His eyes flicked back to mine, holding my gaze for a long moment before he spoke again. “You’re asking questions you shouldn’t be asking.”

That got my attention. I leaned back slightly, crossing my arms over my chest. “Is that so? And why’s that? You afraid I might find something interesting?”

His eyes darkened, and for a moment, I thought I saw a flicker of something—something wild and untamed—flash behind them. But it was gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by that same calm, controlled mask.

“There are things in this town that are best left alone,” he said, his voice still low, still smooth. “Things that aren’t for outsiders.”

I snorted, shaking my head. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Is this some kind of small-town intimidation tactic? Because let me tell you, I’ve seen worse than some creepy guy in a diner trying to scare me off a story.”

A small, amused smile tugged at his lips, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’m not trying to scare you, Chloe.”

The way he said my name sent a shiver down my spine. It wasn’t just the way it rolled off his tongue, like he’d said it a hundred times before. It was the way he seemed to already know it. Like he knew more about me than I’d ever given away.

“Then what are you trying to do?” I asked, leaning forward slightly, my curiosity piqued despite the strange tension between us. “Because if you’re trying to warn me off, you’re going to have to do better than vague threats.”

For a moment, he didn’t speak. He just watched me, his gaze steady, unblinking. There was something dangerous in those eyes, something that made the air feel heavier, like the diner was suddenly too small for the two of us.

“I’m trying to keep you safe,” he said finally, his voice softer now, but no less intense. “This town... It’s not what you think it is.”

I arched an eyebrow, my skepticism growing by the second. “I’m a journalist, Lucian. It’s my job to find out what’s really going on.”

“And that’s exactly why you’re in danger.”

I blinked, caught off guard by the bluntness of his words. “Danger? From what? Wolves?”

A flicker of something passed across his face, so fast I almost missed it. But I didn’t miss the way his jaw tightened, or the way his fingers curled slightly on the table between us.

“Wolves,” he repeated, his voice low. “Among other things.”

I stared at him for a long moment, my mind racing. He wasn’t saying it outright, but the implication was there. There was something more going on here, something beyond what I’d originally thought. And the way he was looking at me, the way he spoke, it was like he knew exactly what I was chasing.

But even more than that, there was something else. Something deeper. Something unspoken that hung between us like a live wire, sparking and crackling with a tension I couldn’t quite understand.

“So, what?” I asked, my voice barely more than a whisper now. “You’re telling me to leave? To pack up and go back to the city?”

Lucian’s gaze softened, just a fraction, but enough for me to notice. “I’m telling you that if you stay, you’ll find more than you bargained for.”

For a moment, neither of us said anything. The silence stretched between us, thick and heavy, until it felt like the entire diner had disappeared, leaving just the two of us locked in this strange, intense standoff.

Finally, I leaned back, a smirk tugging at the corners of my lips. “Sounds like a challenge.”

His eyes darkened again, but this time, there was something else there. Something I couldn’t quite put my finger on. “It’s not a challenge, Chloe. It’s a warning.”

Before I could respond, the waitress returned with my coffee, setting the mug down in front of me with a dull thud. She barely glanced at Lucian before wandering off again, as if his presence didn’t register.

I wrapped my hands around the warm mug, trying to ground myself in the normalcy of it, but it didn’t help. Not when Lucian was still watching me with those piercing green eyes, his gaze making my skin tingle and my mind race.

“I appreciate the warning,” I said finally, my voice steady despite the strange tension between us. “But I’m not leaving. Not yet.”

He didn’t say anything, but the way he looked at me, the way his jaw tightened ever so slightly, told me he wasn’t happy with my decision.

After a long moment, he stood, slipping out of the booth with the same quiet grace he’d entered with. “Then I hope you’re ready for what’s coming.”

Without another word, he turned and walked out of the diner, disappearing into the night as quietly as he’d appeared.

I watched him go, my heart still racing, my mind buzzing with a thousand unanswered questions.

Lucian. The man with the wild eyes and the cryptic warnings.

What the hell had I just walked into?