Chapter 1: The Lost Sun
There was something different about the air in Lunebourne.
Maybe it was the way the fog clung to the edges of the forest, or how the breeze carried the faintest scent of pine and cold metal. Or maybe it was just the fact that Regina Anderson-Wu had transferred here two days ago and already gotten lost—twice.
Today made it three.
She stood beside the ivy-covered fountain just outside the east arch of Lunebourne University, staring down at her phone. The campus map app wasn't helping. The buildings all looked the same—grey stone, ancient, moody. Even the sun filtering through the tree canopy felt unsure of itself.
Her phone vibrated, and as she tilted her head to check, the strawberry-shaped hair clip that barely held her bangs slipped and hit the pavement with a soft clink.
"Seriously?" she muttered, bending to pick it up. "Who designed this stupid map?"
She stood at the edge of the road, map upside down, heart beating a little too fast.
Then—
The sound of wheels on gravel.A single beam of light through the morning fog.And a boy on a bike, heading straight toward her.
Here comes the sun.
He stopped just close enough for her to see the half-smile under his helmet.
"You're lost," he said.
A voice replied, casual and amused."You need directions, transfer girl?"
She looked up. A pair of polished black boots had stopped next to her clip. The owner crouched down to pick it up—he was taller than she expected, wearing a half-rolled white shirt and black jeans, his sleeves pushed up to reveal a tattoo in delicate French cursive: Liberté.
He handed her the clip with a crooked smile.
His dark hair was slicked back, but not neatly—it looked like he'd done it in five seconds with gel and a prayer. There was a faint glint of sweat at his collarbone, and something in the way he looked at her—casual, sharp, like he already knew her—made her feel… caught.
"…How did you know I'm a transfer?" Regina asked, fingers tightening around her ID badge.
He tilted his head, amused. "Only the foreign language department uses CFL on their lanyards. And you've walked past this fountain three times in the last hour."
"You've been watching me?" she frowned.
He shrugged. "Hard not to notice. You're the only one lost in a place this small."
She blinked. "…Right."
"Connor Tsai," he said, offering a hand she didn't take. "Former French major. Now English."
"Where are you heading?" she asked instead, ignoring the hand.
"The languages building," he replied. "But I can't find room 204."
Regina let out a sharp laugh. "Same."
He raised an eyebrow. "Need a ride?"
She squinted. "Ride? What, like a scooter?"
He tilted his head toward the rack behind him.A half-rusted bicycle leaned casually against the stone wall. It had stickers on the frame—some faded, some in French, some just weird little ghosts.
He grinned.
"I'll take you to get lost together."
"Hop on," Connor repeated, nodding toward the bike. "It's either this or we get lost separately."
Regina hesitated.
There were a thousand reasons to say no. Stranger danger. Awkward silence. Her dress probably wasn't bike-friendly. But her legs were tired, her brain was fried, and something about him—something reckless and a little bit off—made her curious.
"…Fine," she muttered, slinging her tote bag across her chest.
He waited until she climbed onto the back rack, then kicked off the ground with practiced ease.
The bike wobbled once, then found its rhythm.
The wind rushed past her ears. Pine trees blurred at the corners of her vision. She gripped the sides of the seat instinctively, trying not to lean into him, trying not to notice the faint smell of cedar, leather, and—
Was that… coffee?
"Better hold on," Connor said over his shoulder, coasting around a bend. "The Lunebourne Shuttle's a limited-time service."
Regina blinked. "Is that… what you call this?"
"You prefer Uber?" he grinned.
She rolled her eyes, but couldn't stop the small laugh that slipped out. It was the kind of laugh she hadn't made in a while—the surprised kind, the kind that escaped before her brain could stop it.
Ten minutes later, they rolled to a stop in front of the Foreign Languages building.
He glanced back. "End of the line."
She hopped off awkwardly, brushing down her skirt. "Thanks for the ride, I guess."
"You guess?"
She looked at him. He was still smiling. Not the charming kind of smile, but the I-know-something-you-don't kind.
It annoyed her.But it also made her heart skip. Just a little.
"…I could've walked, you know."
"Sure," he said, turning his bike around. "But now you didn't have to."
As he rode off, she realized—
He never even asked for her name.
She stood there for a moment, the wind still playing with the hem of her dress, the faint scent of pine and... whatever that was still lingering in the air.
She looked up at the stone building in front of her, then down at the now-crumpled campus map in her hand.
And for the first time since she'd arrived in the city Lunebourne, she smiled.
Maybe… this new place wasn't so scary after all.
Chapter 2: You Look… Different Today
The classroom was half full when Regina walked in.
It smelled like old wood and strong coffee—someone had spilled theirs on the carpet, probably years ago. She picked the seat by the window, as always, pulled out her laptop, and tried to focus.
It was the second week of the semester.
She hadn't seen Connor since the bike ride. No texts. No messages. Just a notification that he'd viewed her Instagram story. Twice.
She told herself it didn't mean anything. She barely knew him. Maybe that's just how people were in Lunebourne—intense one minute, distant the next.
She opened a blank document.
"Name, date, course title."
She was halfway through typing when the door opened again.
A boy walked in—late, casual, unbothered.
He was wearing a white T-shirt, a denim jacket, and slightly ripped jeans. His hair wasn't slicked back anymore; it was soft, messy, and curled a little at the ends like he hadn't bothered to do anything with it.
It was Connor.
Regina blinked. Was this… the same guy?
He looked around once, spotted her, and took the empty seat one row over.
No smirk. No teasing.
Just a half nod and the smallest hint of a smile.
Regina stared at him for two seconds too long before snapping her eyes back to her screen.
But he noticed.
Of course he noticed.
"What?" he whispered, leaning slightly closer.
"You look… different today," she replied, still staring at her keyboard.
"I washed my hair," he said with a straight face.
She glanced at him. "That's not all."
He raised an eyebrow. "You've been cataloguing my wardrobe, Anderson-Wu?"
She narrowed her eyes. "You had black pants. A belt. A white dress shirt. You looked like a vampire lawyer."
He laughed under his breath. "Wow. That detailed, huh?"
She paused.
"…No," she said quickly. "I just—"
"You're paying that much attention to me?"
Regina turned away, pretending to read the syllabus on the screen.
He leaned back in his chair, satisfied.
She hated that she could still hear him smiling.
She wasn't sure when it happened—when she started noticing the little things. But something about him made her look twice. And then again.
Chapter 3: Mocha Chips and Mixed Signals
Regina wasn't a morning person.
Her roommate had warned her about this class: "8 a.m. Literature is a death sentence. Bring coffee. Or don't show up."
And yet, here she was. Walking halfway across campus before realizing—
She forgot her drink.
The one thing she actually needed to stay alive today.
With an annoyed sigh, she turned around and speed-walked back toward her locker, mentally preparing herself for the worst kind of caffeine withdrawal.
But when she opened it, something stopped her.
A cold Starbucks cup sat neatly on the top shelf.Her name was scrawled across the front in messy sharpie:Ragina.With a little smiley face under it.
She stared.
No one around. No footprints on the hallway floor. Just the faint buzz of vending machines in the distance and the sound of her heart kicking up for no logical reason.
She picked up the cup.Mocha chip.Her favorite.
She looked around again. Nothing.
Ten minutes later, she was sitting in the back row of the lecture hall. The drink sat on her desk. Still cold. Still untouched.
Connor walked in.
He didn't look at her.
Didn't wave.
He slid into his seat like he always did—five minutes late and completely unapologetic.
Regina stared at the back of his head, then back at the cup.
Then back at him.
She narrowed her eyes.
After class, she caught up to him by the stairwell.
"You didn't leave anything in my locker today, did you?"
Connor didn't even turn around. "Like what?"
"I don't know. A frappuccino with my name spelled wrong?"
He paused, just long enough to confirm it.
Then: "You're assuming I know how to spell your name."
She raised an eyebrow. "You follow me on Instagram."
He looked over his shoulder, the same half-smirk on his face from the first day they met.
"What if I say it wasn't me?"
Regina crossed her arms. "Then I guess I'll thank whoever it was."
He leaned in just a little. "And what if it was me?"
She blinked.
"Then I'll… thank you," she said, voice quieter than intended.
For a second, he didn't move. Didn't blink.
Then: "Noted."
He turned and walked away, hands in his pockets, head down.
Regina stood there, drink still in hand, unsure if she was supposed to smile or scream.
Was that flirting? Or just… sarcasm in a nice cup?
She wasn't sure what to do with the weird flutter in her chest.But as she took another sip, she decided one thing:
Mocha chip had never tasted better.
Connor's phone buzzed in his back pocket.He checked it, smiled faintly at something Regina had just posted.Then, almost unconsciously, he opened his Notes app.She likes mocha chip. Smiley face. Spells it with one 'a'.
Chapter 4: Je t'aime
The Thursday night get-together wasn't her idea.
Somehow, after their group presentation had wrapped up earlier that day, someone had suggested drinks "just to celebrate." And somehow, that someone had said her name out loud before Regina could escape.
So now she was here—perched awkwardly in the corner of a too-loud apartment, clutching a too-sweet drink and pretending to enjoy being surrounded by way too many people.
Connor was across the room.
Not talking to Mandy. Not scrolling on his phone. Just standing there, watching the chaos around him with that usual half-bored, half-detached expression.
He looked up and met her eyes.
And then he walked toward her.
Straight past the beer pong table, ignoring whatever joke someone had tossed his way.
He stopped right in front of her.
"You okay?" he asked.
Regina nodded. "Too many people."
He gave a quiet huff of agreement. "Wanna get some air?"
She hesitated.
Then stood up anyway.
They ended up on the balcony.
It was cold, but not unbearable. The full moon hung above them like a coin in the sky—slightly too big. Slightly too bright.
Connor leaned against the railing, his drink dangling from one hand.
Neither of them spoke for a long time.
Then, out of nowhere—
"You ever feel like your body doesn't match your mind?"
Regina blinked. "That's... specific."
He let out a short laugh. "Forget it. I'm drunk."
"You don't seem drunk."
"I hide it well," he said, eyes still fixed on the moon. "Comes with practice."
There was another pause. Not quite awkward. Just heavy.
Then he turned to her.
His voice was softer this time. Less sarcastic. Less guarded.
"You know…" he said slowly. "It's lucky to have you."
Regina's heart skipped.
"What?"
He smiled—small, quiet, almost shy.
"Je t'aime,（I love you.）" he said.
The words weren't loud.
But they landed like thunder.
Regina froze.
It wasn't just the sound of them. It was the way he said it.Like it wasn't the first time he'd thought about it.Like maybe it was the first time he'd said it out loud.
She felt her breath catch.
"…What did you say?" she asked, switching to English. Pretending.
He looked away, suddenly focused on nothing.
"Nothing."
But she heard it.She understood it.Of course she did.
She had studied French for four years in high school.She knew exactly what those words meant.
Je t'aime. （I love you.）
She could've said Moi aussi（Me Too）.She could've said Don't joke like that.
She could've said a lot of things.
But instead, she sipped her drink and looked at the moon.
"Your accent's not bad," she said casually. "But your timing sucks."
He didn't say anything after that.
And neither did she.
The next day, Connor didn't mention the balcony.He didn't mention the moon.He didn't mention the words.
And Regina didn't ask.
But the phrase haunted her like a song she couldn't un-hear.
Je t'aime. (I love you.)
In class, she found herself scribbling it in the margins of her notes.At lunch, she caught herself whispering it into the rim of her straw.She even typed it once into her phone's Notes app, just to see how it looked on a screen.
Then immediately deleted it.
She told herself:He was drunk.He didn't mean it.He says stuff like that to everyone.
But late at night, when everything else was quiet, her heart refused to believe her head.
He looked at me like he meant it.He said it like it wasn't new.He said it like it hurt.
And the worst part?
I understood every word.
Chapter 5: You Don't Know What He Is
By Monday, everything between them had reverted back to... not nothing, but not something, either.
Connor still sat beside her in class.
Still showed up five minutes late.
Still leaned over with half-whispers and half-smiles.
But Regina could feel it.
Something was different.
He was more quiet than usual. More distant.
Sometimes, she caught him flinching at the sunlight streaming through the windows.
Or snapping a little too sharply when someone accidentally bumped into him in the hallway.
She didn't know what to make of it.
And when she didn't know what to do, she wrote.
That day, she was curled up in the corner of the campus café with her laptop open, typing halfway through a nonsense poem about full moons and blackout curtains, when a voice interrupted her.
"Can I sit?"
It was Mandy.
Regina looked up, surprised. They weren't exactly friends. Not enemies either—just... connected by Connor.
"Sure," she said carefully, pushing her drink aside.
Mandy sat across from her, fingers wrapped around a paper cup. She didn't sip from it.
"You've been spending time with him," Mandy said.
It wasn't a question.
Regina blinked. "Is that a problem?"
"No," Mandy said quickly. "It's not. I just... thought maybe I should say something."
Regina waited.
Mandy looked down at the lid of her cup like it held the script she'd rehearsed a hundred times.
"There was a night last semester," Mandy began, "a full moon night. He was different. Not angry, not drunk—just... off."
Regina stayed quiet.
"He left early. No one knew where he went. But I followed him." Mandy's eyes lifted. "He didn't know."
There was a pause.
Regina frowned. "What did you see?"
Mandy took a breath, then let it out slowly. Her fingers gripped the cup tighter.
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you."
"Try me."
Another pause.
Then:
"He wasn't himself."
"He was growling. Like an animal."
"I swear I saw his—his eyes glowing. And his back... twisting."
Regina's stomach flipped.
Mandy must've seen the disbelief on her face.
"I know how it sounds," she said quickly. "I sound insane. That's why I never told anyone."
"Then why tell me?"
Mandy looked her dead in the eye.
"Because I don't think you know what he is."
Regina's lips parted slightly. "What are you trying to say? That he's some kind of—"
"I don't know," Mandy said. "But he's not normal. And when the next full moon comes, just… be careful."
She stood before Regina could respond.
And left the coffee untouched on the table.
That night, Regina lay in bed, staring at the calendar on her wall.
The next full moon was in six days.
And somehow, her hands wouldn't stop shaking.
Chapter 6: Something About the Moon
Regina wasn't the paranoid type.
But after what Mandy had said, it was hard not to notice... things.
Little things.
Connor started wearing long sleeves—even on warm days.He stopped coming to class when it rained.And once, during a film discussion, he flinched when someone's silver necklace accidentally brushed his wrist.
Most people would've forgotten.Regina didn't.
She started Googling things like:
"Werewolf myths real?"
"Signs someone might be... not human?"
"Why do people act weird around the full moon?"
The answers were ridiculous.So ridiculous, she wanted to laugh.
But she didn't.
Because deep down, something about all of it made too much sense.
The next day, Regina entered the lecture hall early and watched Connor walk in behind her.
He looked tired. Like he hadn't slept.But his gaze sharpened the moment he saw her.
"Yo," he said, sliding into the seat beside her. "You good?"
Regina hesitated. "Yeah. Why?"
"You've been... distant."
She paused. "Have I?"
"Don't play dumb. You look at me like I've got something on my face."
She nearly replied: Do you have fur on your face during full moons?But instead, she smiled politely. "I'm just tired."
Connor didn't believe her. That was obvious.But he let it go.
For now.
That afternoon, they ended up in the library together—studying, or at least pretending to.
Regina was scrolling on her laptop. A PDF article titled "Folklore & The Full Moon: How Stories Become Symbols" was open in front of her.
Connor leaned over her shoulder, suddenly too close.
"What are you reading?"
She jumped. "Nothing. Just... cultural anthropology."
He peered at the screen.
"You're into monsters now?" he teased.
"Better than being one," she said without thinking.
Connor's expression flickered—only for a second.
Then: "You trying to tell me something?"
She looked at him.
"I don't know. Should I be?"
They locked eyes for a beat too long.Neither blinked.
Finally, he leaned back.
"Be careful," he said quietly, almost amused. "You might find something you don't want to know."
Later, they were walking side by side through the quad.
Connor reached up to rub his neck—and Regina noticed something.
A red scratch mark, just below his collarbone.She gasped. "Are you okay?"
He glanced down, barely bothered.
"Oh. That? Just a tree branch. Walked into it yesterday."
"But... it's gone," she said softly.
She had just seen it.But now, the skin was smooth again.
No blood. No redness.Nothing.
Connor looked at her, brows raised.
"You sure you're okay?"
Regina smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes.
"Yeah," she said.
But her heart was pounding.
What are you?And why do I still want to be around you, even when I'm scared of the answer?
Chapter 7: I Saw You That Night
They were supposed to meet for a quick project check-in.
Regina had suggested the campus café—public, safe, normal.
But when she arrived, Connor wasn't inside.Instead, he was leaning against a tree outside, hoodie pulled up, eyes half-hidden under shadow.
He looked like he'd been waiting.But also, like he was deciding whether to leave.
"Hey," she said carefully, walking over.
"You're late," he said, tone lighter than his expression.
She sat on the bench beside him, not too close.
Silence stretched between them, until finally—
"You've been acting weird," Connor said.
Regina raised an eyebrow. "That's rich coming from you."
He turned to her, brows furrowed. "Are you scared of me?"
She didn't answer.
But the way her hands tightened around her coffee cup—he noticed.
Connor's voice lowered. "Did Mandy talk to you?"
That caught her off guard.
He saw it.
"You talked to her, didn't you?"
Regina hesitated, then said softly, "She told me... about a night. A full moon."
Connor looked away.
"You shouldn't believe everything she says."
"She seemed pretty sure."
"I said, you shouldn't have followed me that night."
His voice had changed—quiet, sharp, a little too steady.
Regina felt the air shift.
"Connor—"
"I didn't mean to scare her," he said suddenly, eyes still on the horizon. "But I wasn't myself."
"Then who were you?" she asked.
No answer.
Just wind.
Then Connor turned toward her. The light caught his eyes, and for a brief second—they flashed gold.
Not amber. Not brown.
Gold.
Regina froze.
He blinked—and they were normal again.
"What did you see?" he asked quietly.
Regina's heart raced.
"I saw... enough."
Another silence.
Then he leaned closer. Just enough for her to hear him clearly, but not enough to touch.
"Do you want the truth?" he murmured. "Or do you want to keep pretending you don't already know?"
Her breath caught.Her hands trembled.She wasn't sure what scared her more—The mystery...Or the fact that she didn't want to walk away.
Chapter 8: The Moonlight Masquerade
The ballroom at Lunebourne looked like it had been ripped straight from a dream.
Velvet curtains, chandeliers burning low, candlelight reflecting off every mask in the room—gilded, mysterious, sharp-edged.
Regina had never seen the university like this.
And she had never seen Connor like this.
He wasn't in his usual hoodie or faded T-shirt.Tonight, he wore a black suit. Fitted just right.Hair pushed back slightly. Mask angled carelessly, as if he didn't care who knew it was him.
Her brain short-circuited.
Oh god. He looks...Delicious.I mean—my next mistake.I mean… yeah okay, he's hot, whatever.
She adjusted the straps of her black dress, trying not to look like she was staring.But she was.
And when he turned and saw her, really saw her—
That lazy smile stretched across his face.The kind that said, "I know exactly what you're thinking."
He made his way across the floor, slowly, like he had all the time in the world.
"You showed up," he said, voice a notch deeper than usual.
"You invited me."
"You wore black."
"You told me to."
He smiled, a little lopsided.Then held out a hand.
"Dance with me?"
She hesitated. Just for a second.Then placed her hand in his.
The music slowed into something dark and orchestral, strings curling through the air like smoke.
Connor pulled her close—closer than he needed to.His hand rested lightly on the curve of her back, his other holding hers just tight enough to make her forget how to breathe.
"You're nervous," he murmured.
"No I'm not," she lied.
"You sure?"
Regina didn't answer.Because her pulse was pounding and her thoughts were somewhere between run and don't let go.
Every time he looked at her, it felt like gravity tipped.Every time he leaned in, she forgot what she was supposed to fear.
When the final note of the song echoed through the room, Connor didn't let go of her hand.
"Wanna get out of here?"
"Where?"
"You'll see."
They ended up in the Lunebourne Night Market.
Quiet but glowing—rows of fairy-lit tents selling hot cider, old books, strange trinkets, even moon-shaped pastries. Couples strolled hand in hand. Music drifted faintly from somewhere.
Regina tucked her hair behind her ear, smiling as she looked at the booths.
"It's beautiful," she whispered.
Connor didn't respond.
He was staring at the moon.
She stepped closer, their shoulders brushing.She reached for his hand—
He pulled back, just barely.
It was subtle. Almost unnoticeable.
But she felt it.
Regina blinked. "What's wrong?"
Connor turned to her, jaw tight.
"Nothing. Just... a lot of people."
"You brought me here."
"I thought it'd be quiet. I didn't expect the moon to be—"He cut himself off.
She stepped in front of him. "Connor."
His eyes met hers.
There was something wild behind them.Something he was fighting.
"You're not okay," she said quietly.
"No," he admitted. "I'm not."
Then, lower:
"You need to go home. Right now."
"Why?"
He looked past her, then at her again.
"Because if you don't, I might not be able to control what happens next."
His voice was still soft.But there was something breaking inside it.
The mask had slipped.Not the one on his face—the one he wore every day.
Regina took a step back.
And then—
She saw it.
His irises shimmered gold under the moonlight.And for just a second, she could've sworn she saw the outline of something moving beneath his skin.
Something not quite human.
Chapter 9: The Things I'm Not Supposed to Know
Regina didn't sleep that night.
She stared at the ceiling, playing back every word, every look, every flicker of gold in his eyes like it was a movie on loop.
"You need to go home.""I might not be able to control what happens next."
That wasn't normal.That wasn't just "I'm not in the mood."That was danger—but not toward her. Toward everyone.
She turned on her desk lamp, opened her laptop, and started searching again.
"Werewolves real?""Gold eyes full moon myth""People who change under moonlight""Fast healing, enhanced senses, weird behavior"
Her screen filled with conspiracy forums, folklore archives, and Reddit threads written by people she would've mocked a week ago.
But tonight, she read every word.
Somewhere near 3AM, a message pinged her phone.
Jeremy Chen:
"Hey, you went to the masquerade, right? Connor looked like he was about to explode near the end. You okay?"
She stared at the screen. Jeremy always had weird timing.
Regina:
"Yeah. I'm fine. Just tired."
Jeremy:
"Call me if you're not."
She didn't reply.
Because how could she tell him—
I think the guy I like might be something not human.And I still want to kiss him. I want him.
Chapter 10: The Boy with the Golden Eyes
The next morning, the air in Lunebourne felt... off.
Regina walked to class with her earbuds in, hoping to spot Connor.
She didn't.
No sign of him anywhere.Not in class, not in the quad, not even in his usual corner at the café.
Even Mandy was unusually quiet, scrolling through her phone, occasionally glancing around like she was expecting something too.
During lunch, Regina sat alone under the shade of a tree.
She was halfway through rereading a werewolf forum thread when a voice pulled her back:
"Looking up monsters now?"
She looked up.
Julian.
Tall, sharp cheekbones, shirt slightly wrinkled like he hadn't planned to be seen—but his smile was warm, eyes kinder than she remembered.
"Mind if I sit?" he asked.
She shook her head, closing her laptop.
Julian sat and took out a juice box from his bag like it was the most normal thing ever.
"Okay," he said between sips. "So. Wanna talk about why your aura's freaking out right now?"
"My... what?"
"I'm kidding. Kind of. You just look like someone who saw something they weren't supposed to."
Regina hesitated. "Julian… Have you ever seen someone's eyes glow? Like, actually glow?"
Julian froze mid-sip.
Slowly, he lowered the juice box.
"Gold?" he asked.
Her eyes widened. "Yes."
He nodded, lips pressing into a thin line.
"I knew it," he muttered. "I knew that guy was off."
Regina blinked. "Wait—you knew?"
Julian looked at her, serious now.
"You're not the first person in Lunebourne to see golden eyes during a full moon."
A chill ran down her spine.
"Julian… what is he?"
Julian paused. Then said quietly:
"You're not going to like the answer."