Whispers Before the Moon

Previously

…The wind finally stirred, a mournful sigh through the ancient oak. It carried with it the scent of pine needles, of damp earth, and of something far older, far more sinister. The sliver of moon seemed to shrink, as if afraid of what the coming night might reveal. And I, Elara, stood at a precipice, torn between the man who held my heart and the home that held my soul, with the chilling certainty that the darkness was not just gathering, but actively reaching for us.