The moon never left Velshade.
Even at noon, when the sun should've claimed the sky, a pale silver orb hovered behind the clouds—as if watching, waiting. No one talked about it. Not anymore. Not after what happened to the missing ones.
Seventeen-year-old Aria Valen sat by the window in the last row of her literature class, sketching the moon again. She had drawn it a hundred times: the craters, the glow, the jagged edges that never quite looked natural. This time, she was adding eyes.
Silver ones. Just like in her dreams.
"Aria," the teacher's voice cracked through the room like a whip. "If you're finished with the moon, perhaps you'd like to read aloud from The Tragedy of Evarin?"
She flushed, tucked the notebook under her arm, and picked up the textbook. Her voice was quiet at first, but steady—until the door creaked open.
He walked in.
Tall, lean, and dressed in black like the moonlight wrapped him instead of clothes. His hair was raven-dark and tousled like he had just stepped out of a storm. But it was his eyes that stole the air from her lungs.
Silver. Pale, unblinking, almost glowing.
"Class," the teacher said stiffly. "This is Kael Draven. He's joining us for the rest of the semester."
Aria blinked. She had seen those eyes before—last night, in her dreams. And the night before. And the one before that. Standing in the woods. Whispering her name.
Kael walked to the only empty seat—right beside her. As he passed, her sketchbook flipped open on its own. The page showing the moon… and his eyes.
He paused, glancing down. Their eyes met for a second. His lips curved, almost sadly.
"You remember," he said softly, so only she could hear. "Even if they made you forget… you still remember me."
Aria's blood turned to ice.
She had never met him before in her life.
Had she?