Adrielle had always hated the full moon.

Every month, when its pale glow spread across the quiet meadow, she felt a strange pull, like invisible threads dragging her feet out of her cottage and into the night.

That night, the sky was unusually clear. The silver light painted every leaf, every stone, as if the world belonged to the moon alone. Adrielle wrapped her shawl tighter, heart pounding.

And then—she saw him again.

The same stranger, standing by the old oak tree. Tall, quiet, his dark hair glowing faintly under the light. His eyes met hers, and just like before, her chest tightened.

“Why… you again?” she whispered, though she wasn’t sure if it was to him, or to herself.

The man smiled softly, almost sadly.

“We meet only when the moon calls us,” he said, his voice low, like a secret carried by the wind.

Adrielle didn’t understand why her knees felt weak, or why her heart ached at the sight of him. She didn’t even know his name. And yet… it felt as if she had known him forever.