Chapter 1
818words
As my wheels rolled over the Ravenwood town marker, an old Taylor Swift song was playing on the radio. Ironically, the lyrics were about "never coming back to this town again."
"That's a good thing, Taylor," I said, turning off the music and checking my dark circles in the rearview mirror. "We all broke our promises."
Eighteen years after fleeing this suffocating town, I returned with only three possessions of note: divorce papers, a manuscript stuck at chapter three, and the wooden wolf pendant I never took off.
Dad's old house stood like a time capsule, even the dust particles suspended in air seemed vintage. I pushed open the creaking front door, my suitcase wheels carving fresh tracks in the wooden floor.
"Well, at least no squirrels moved in," I said to the empty house, flipping on the living room light. "Just regular dust and... wow, terrible wallpaper choices, Dad."
My phone buzzed with a text from my editor:
"Found inspiration yet? Your deadline won't extend itself."
I sighed and replied: "Just arrived. Give me time."
"Readers are dying to know what E.L. Hunter has next. Don't disappoint!"
I tossed my phone onto the couch, sending up a small cloud of dust. E.L. Hunter, bestselling crime novelist, known for bloody mysteries with supernatural elements. No one knew all my stories were inspired by this town—especially that full moon night, the creature in the forest, and those amber eyes.
I headed straight for Dad's study, where his "research" remained untouched—newspaper clippings, maps, and that perpetually locked cabinet. My fingers instinctively found the pendant at my throat, the wood smooth from years of my touch.
"Alright, Dad," I said to the empty room, "let's see what secrets you left behind."
The doorbell startled me so badly I nearly spilled coffee on my manuscript. Who could possibly know I was back?
I opened the door, and the world stopped spinning.
The man on my porch wore a sheriff's uniform, gun at his hip, shoulders broad enough to carry the weight of the entire town. But what stole my breath were his eyes—amber like autumn whiskey, with something wild lurking in their depths.
"Elowen Thorne?" His voice was deeper than I remembered. "I'm Sheriff Kieran Shaw. Heard you were back in town."
My brain raced: Kieran Shaw. The boy who disappeared when I was fourteen. The boy who carved this pendant for me. Now the sheriff. And I was writing a book that might expose his secrets.
Perfect reunion script.
"Long time no see, Kieran," I said, trying to sound like a normal person rather than someone facing their teenage crush. "Sheriff, huh? Someone took the straight and narrow."
His gaze dropped to my pendant, something flickering in his eyes. "Limited career options."
Awkward silence. Eighteen years of questions knotted in my throat.
Why did you leave suddenly? Why no goodbye? Why are you standing on my porch pretending we're casual acquaintances?
Instead, I asked: "Something I can help you with, Sheriff?"
"There's been unusual activity in the forest lately," he said, voice professional and distant. "Just routine notification to residents to be careful. Especially after dark."
"Worried I'll get attacked by a wild animal?" I raised an eyebrow. "Like my mother?"
His expression instantly tightened, his eyes flashing almost gold. Interesting.
"Precisely."
I leaned against the doorframe, deliberately casual. "So how did you know I was back? I didn't update my Facebook status."
"Small town," he shrugged. "No secrets."
"Oh, I disagree, Sheriff," I smiled. "I think this town is nothing but secrets. That's why I'm back to write my new book."
His jaw clenched. "New book?"
"A crime novel about unsolved local cases," I said, watching his reaction. "Especially those 'animal attack' incidents. You know, like what happened to my mother."
His fingers tapped against his leg seam, the only sign of tension. "Listen, Elowen—"
"Everyone calls me El," I interrupted. "Or E.L. Hunter, if you read crime fiction."
"I know who you are," he said, his voice suddenly softer. "I've always known."
The words hit me square in the chest, leaving me momentarily speechless.
He turned to leave, then paused. "That pendant... you still wear it."
My fingers touched the wolf outline reflexively. "Some things are worth keeping," I said, my voice quieter than intended. "Even when the person who gave them disappears."
His eyes darkened, like he wanted to say something more, but he simply nodded. "Goodnight, El. Lock your doors."
As he turned away, I noticed the circular scar on his wrist, visible beneath his uniform cuff. A perfect circle, like a burn.
I closed the door and leaned against it, my heart hammering.
"Well," I said to the empty house, "now we have a story."
I walked to my laptop and opened the document. Chapter three finally had its beginning:
"The new sheriff in town had a secret. Every full moon, he would disappear..."
