The Luna Who Loved Twice

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.

Julian: "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. Julian always had weird timing.

Regina: "Yeah. I'm fine. Just tired."

Julian: "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.