The first snow of Winterfall Mountain drifted across the sky in slow silent spirals as if the world were holding its breath. Mira Halden stood at the edge of the forest listening to the distant howl that had echoed every night since her return. It was a sound both mournful and familiar, as though someone from her memories was calling her name through wind and ice. She tightened her scarf and stepped deeper into the woods, feeling the old pull in her chest that she had tried for years to ignore. Mira had once lived in these mountains before tragedy forced her away. When she was fifteen she had disappeared…

The night Lira Ainsworth returned to Moonhollow Orchard the air felt heavier than she remembered, thick with the scent of ripe apples and something colder that lingered beneath the sweetness. The orchard had been her childhood home, a place filled with warm sunrise mornings and laughter, yet every night it transformed into a realm touched by something unseen. As she walked the familiar dirt path the moon rose behind drifting clouds casting silver light across the endless rows of trees. Their branches swayed lightly even though there was no wind whispering a song she had almost forgotten. Lira stopped at the old wooden gate and placed her hand on it.…

The first time Aria Sterling sensed the strange presence it was in the hour before dawn when the forest around her quiet mountain town was still wrapped in silver fog. She had always felt that mornings carried a hidden pulse but that day something inside the silence called to her. It was faint yet powerful like an invisible hand brushing gently across her thoughts. She stopped on the narrow trail that led from her cabin to the valley road and let the mist cling to her skin. It felt colder than usual carrying an energy that she could not explain. Aria had lived in Moonvale since she was nine after…

The first time Evangeline Cross laid eyes on the ruins of Blackthorn Keep, the air seemed to hum with a presence she could not name. Fog rolled through the broken stone walls like a living tide, curling around toppled arches and fractured statues. She stepped carefully over the jagged stones, each footfall echoing into the mist. The keep had been abandoned for centuries, a place of legend whispered in the villages surrounding the moor. Some said it was cursed, others that it was haunted by the spirits of those who had perished defending it. Evangeline had never believed in such things, yet the letter she received had compelled her to…

The night was colder than Selina Vale had ever imagined as she crossed the broken bridge into Ashen Hollow. The river below roared with icy currents that reflected the fragmented moonlight, casting jagged silver patterns across the mist that rolled over the land. She tightened her cloak, feeling the unnatural chill creep into her bones. Ashen Hollow had always been shrouded in stories—tales of lost souls wandering between realms, of lovers separated by time and shadow, of whispers that could drive a mortal to madness. Yet here she was, drawn not by fear but by something deeper, something that had called to her since she first glimpsed the old silver…

The air was thick with mist when Selene Darrow first stepped into the village of Greyfen. It was a place that existed in the quiet corners of the world, where the living and the dead brushed against each other, unseen by most eyes. The cobblestones beneath her boots were slick with rain, and the gas lamps flickered like uncertain stars, casting long shadows across narrow streets. Selene had received the letter ten days ago, written in a delicate hand she did not recognize, urging her to come before the full moon. It promised answers to questions she had never dared to ask, questions that had haunted her dreams since childhood.…

The fog had already begun to roll across the ancient valley when Elara Venn arrived at the forgotten village of Ravencleir. She had traveled for two days through unlit forests and narrow earthen paths guided only by the vague directions scribbled on the faded map her grandmother had left behind. Elara never understood why that map was so important until the night she first dreamed of the ghostly lantern. In her dream a soft white flame flickered behind a veil of mist and a man with amber eyes watched her with a sorrow so deep it felt like it pressed into her soul. She woke breathless with a single word…

The surface of Starlit Lake shimmered like a sheet of molten silver as the night breeze brushed across it. The water reflected the sky with such clarity that it was impossible to tell where the stars ended and the lake began. Ivy Rowan stood at the edge of the wooden dock clutching her notebook to her chest. Her breath formed a pale mist in the cold autumn air. She had returned to her childhood town of Emberfall for one reason. To find out why the lake kept calling her name. The whisper first came two months ago. A voice soft as moonlight that curled through her dreams and begged her…

The morning fog curled around the forest edges like pale fingers reaching toward the dirt road. Liora Venn gripped the straps of her old backpack as she stepped off the bus and stared at the town that had haunted her memories since childhood. The air smelled of pine and damp soil. A crow perched on a nearby fence post and cawed as though announcing her return. She whispered to herself Stay calm. You came back for answers. The town of Greyhollow looked the same as it had thirteen years ago. Quiet. Unsettled. Houses leaned slightly as if listening for something hidden underground. The people still avoided eye contact. A heavy…

The night the ocean turned black was the same night Arin Reed realized he could no longer outrun the truth he had buried since childhood. In the small coastal town of Halverin the streets were quiet except for the distant hum of the tide rolling over jagged rocks. Arin stood alone on the pier gripping the wooden rail as the cold air pressed against his skin. His breath fogged the darkness and sank quickly as though the night itself was swallowing it. Arin had returned to Halverin for the first time in twelve years but the town was not the one he remembered. Windows were boarded shut. Fishermen refused to…