Chapter 1 — The Full Moon’s Shadow

Elena

The soft hum of the city filtered through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Elena Marlowe’s office, a muted symphony of distant car horns and the restless pulse of humanity. The glass panes reflected her razor-sharp silhouette, backlit by the fading twilight. She stood at her desk, her fingers brushing the cool surface of the Moonstone Cuff around her wrist. Its faint glow betrayed the full moon’s impending arrival, a secret she carried like a weight pressed against her skin.

The cuff’s light was barely perceptible, but Elena’s piercing grey eyes caught it instantly. She tilted her wrist, letting the glow shift with the movement, its pulse echoing her own heartbeat. A subtle warning, primal and insistent. Her jaw tightened as she slid her sleeve down to obscure it. Not here. Not now.

Control. Always control.

The glow reminded her of the council’s grip, of the night they’d torn her life apart and left her to rebuild it from the fragments. The moon’s pull felt dangerously similar to the power struggles in her boardroom, a constant battle to stay one step ahead. She exhaled sharply, forcing the memories back into the shadows where they belonged.

A faint knock on the door broke her reverie. “Ms. Marlowe?” Margot’s voice, clear and steady, carried through the room. Elena turned to see her confidant and COO standing in the doorway, a leather-bound notebook held against her chest. Margot’s platinum hair gleamed under the recessed lighting, a sharp contrast to the soft pastels of her tailored suit. Her expression was calm, but her sharp eyes took in everything, lingering just a moment too long on Elena’s wrist before shifting back to her face.

“What is it, Margot?” Elena asked, her tone brisk and measured, the edges honed to precision.

“The boardroom’s ready for the investor meeting. Everyone’s waiting on you,” Margot said, her voice smooth, though a flicker of hesitation betrayed her concern. She glanced at Elena’s covered wrist, then quickly looked away, her lips pressing into a line.

Elena nodded, already moving toward the door. The sharp staccato of her heels against the marble floors echoed as Margot fell into step beside her. “Has Ronan arrived yet?” Elena asked, her voice cool but edged with curiosity.

Margot hesitated, her grip tightening slightly on the notebook. “He’s in the conference room. First impressions are... complicated. His credentials are impeccable, almost too impeccable. Something about him feels—off.”

Elena’s steps slowed, her grey eyes narrowing. “Elaborate.”

Margot glanced down briefly before meeting Elena’s gaze. “No personal connections, no scandals, no gaps in his record. It’s as though he’s been sculpted for this role. And there’s the way he carries himself—calm, poised, but watchful. He’s not here to climb the corporate ladder. I’d bet my bonus on it.”

Elena’s lips pressed into a thin line as they stepped into the elevator. The steel walls reflected their tense expressions, the enclosed space amplifying the weight of Margot’s words. “Noted,” Elena said, her voice low and cold. “Keep him close. Monitor his interactions, his movements. If he’s hiding something, we’ll find it.”

Margot inclined her head, a flicker of approval passing across her face. “Consider it done.”

The elevator ascended smoothly, the numbers ticking upward with a quiet inevitability. Elena’s thoughts turned inward, the faint glow of the Moonstone Cuff lingering at the edge of her awareness. The full moon was close—too close. She tightened her grip on the polished steel railing, her nails pressing into her palm. For a moment, the primal energy of the cuff felt like a pulse beneath her skin, a war between instinct and control. She forced herself to breathe, slow and measured.

The doors slid open, revealing the sleek expanse of the boardroom. Glass and steel dominated the space, reflecting Vanguard Technologies’ ethos of innovation and precision. The long table gleamed under soft lighting, its surface unmarred except for the neatly arranged files and water glasses. Around it sat the city’s most influential investors, their tailored suits and sharp gazes a testament to the stakes at play.

At the far end of the room stood Ronan Hale, his tall, lean frame silhouetted against the panoramic view of the city. His dark hair was tousled, as if he’d just stepped out of a storm, and his sharp green eyes—tinged with an unsettling gold that flickered in the dim light—moved to her as she entered. He wore a dark blazer over an open-collared shirt, a deliberate rebellion against the boardroom’s rigid formality. A faint smirk played at his lips, hovering between charm and challenge.

“Elena Marlowe,” he said, his voice low and smooth, carrying just enough deference to avoid arrogance. “It’s an honor to finally meet you.”

Elena held his gaze as she approached, her expression unreadable. Her instincts prickled, a subtle warning threading through her heightened senses. There was something about him—something not entirely human. She extended her hand, her grip firm and unyielding. “Ronan Hale. Welcome to Vanguard.”

Their hands touched, and a jolt of energy coiled through her veins, sharp and primal. The Moonstone Cuff throbbed faintly beneath her sleeve, its pulse quickening. Ronan’s faint smirk faltered, his green-gold eyes narrowing almost imperceptibly. He felt it too. A flicker of something—surprise, perhaps—flashed across his face before he masked it.

“Elena,” Margot’s voice broke the moment, steady and grounding. “The meeting.”

Elena withdrew her hand, her expression hardening. “Let’s begin.”

The meeting unfolded as a battle of numbers and projections, the language of power exchanged with precision. Words like “synergy” and “market dominance” filled the air, each phrase carefully calibrated to maintain the investors’ confidence. Elena commanded the room with ease, her sharp mind and sharper tongue slicing through objections before they could take root. But even as she spoke, she felt Ronan’s gaze on her, unwavering and dissecting. Unlike the others, his attention wasn’t on her power or her position—it was something deeper, more dangerous.

At one point, she caught his eyes briefly flicking to the Moonstone Cuff beneath her sleeve. It was subtle, but it sent a chill through her. How much had he noticed? How much did he know?

A murmur of approval rippled through the room as Elena delivered the final point of her presentation. The investors began to file out, their murmured conversations a backdrop to her thoughts. She remained seated, her fingers steepled as she watched Ronan linger by the window, his silhouette framed against the glittering skyline.

Margot hovered by the door, her expression a silent question.

“Go ahead,” Elena said without looking at her. “I’ll catch up.”

Margot hesitated, her sharp gaze flicking between Elena and Ronan before she nodded and stepped out. The room felt heavier once they were alone, the air charged with unspoken tension.

“You handled that masterfully,” Ronan said, turning to face her. His tone was casual, but his eyes betrayed a sharp curiosity. “No wonder Vanguard is untouchable.”

Elena rose, her movements fluid and deliberate. She approached him, her grey eyes piercing. “Flattery is cheap, Mr. Hale. If you want to impress me, show me results.”

He tilted his head, the faintest glimmer of amusement in his expression. “Results take time. Transparency, though—that’s immediate. A rare commodity in places like this.”

Her gaze sharpened. “And yet, it’s what I demand. You’ve been here less than a day, and already Margot has doubts about you. I don’t tolerate uncertainty in my team.”

Ronan’s smirk deepened, but there was something guarded in his eyes—a flicker of tension he quickly masked. “I’m here to do a job, Ms. Marlowe. Same as you. If I didn’t meet your standards, I wouldn’t be standing here.”

Her gaze dropped briefly to the pendant around his neck, the rough, unpolished wolf carved into the metal catching the light. It felt out of place against his otherwise polished appearance, a quiet challenge to her composure. Her instincts sharpened, the faint scent of pine and earth clinging to him like a whisper of the wilderness she fought so hard to suppress.

“Let’s hope you’re worth the gamble,” she said finally, her voice cutting like steel.

Ronan inclined his head, his green-gold eyes gleaming. “I intend to be.”

As he walked out, the faint scent lingered in the air, a haunting echo of something primal. Alone in the boardroom, Elena clenched her fists, her nails biting into her palms. The Moonstone Cuff pulsed faintly beneath her sleeve, a warning and a curse.

For the first time in years, Elena felt her control slipping—not from the moon’s pull, but from something far more dangerous.

Ronan Hale.