Beneath the Alpha's Moon
Chapter 295: He’s Everywhere

Chapter 295: He’s Everywhere

Nova’s POV

If someone had told me two months ago that I’d be living in a castle straight out of a gothic romance novel—complete with towers, velvet drapes, eternal twilight corridors, and a man who literally turns into a wolf—I’d have laughed until I choked on my store-brand cereal.

But here I was.

Living it.

The Daegon family castle was nestled in the heart of Beauty Valley—aptly named, I’d come to learn. Think fairy-tale landscapes: endless green hills, sparkling brooks, cobblestone paths winding through forests that looked like they’d been painted with a giant whimsical brush. The sky always seemed to blush, like it knew secrets about the moon. And the flowers? Don’t even get me started. They bloomed like they were trying to win awards.

It was the kind of place that made you feel like the wind itself was whispering stories from a thousand years ago.

And the town people? Sweetest humans alive. Literally brought me homemade bread and pies just because I was staying at The Manor, as they called it. I’d sit with Eldur on the castle steps and wave like a queen while the old lady who ran the bakery shouted, "Tell your in-laws I need more wood for the oven!" or "Nova, darling, I saved the blueberry tarts for you!"

They thought I was some foreign guest of the ancient family that owned the castle.

What they didn’t know? Eldur’s father was the ancient family. Emphasis on ancient. Vampire ancient.

Apparently, the townspeople believed that the Daegons’ ancestors had founded Beauty Valley and just... never left. And technically, they weren’t wrong. Just off by, oh, a few hundred years and a dose of supernatural denial.

I’d once asked Eldur how no one suspected they weren’t human.

He smirked and said, "When you give people everything they need, they don’t ask questions. They worship comfort more than truth."

It was creepy. But also disturbingly true.

Because his father, Adrian Daegon—tall, graceful, the kind of man who could convince you to sign over your soul while complimenting your shoes—basically ran the town. He funded the schools, fixed roads before the mayor even noticed potholes, sent herbs from his gardens to the clinics, and hosted ridiculous seasonal balls that the town treated like the second coming of Cinderella.

They called him Helper. He was kindness wrapped in mystery. A vampire who quoted love poetry and handed out blood-infused wine like it was apple cider.

Honestly? I was kind of obsessed with him. Not in a weird way. More like in a "you’re not human but I’d trust you to babysit my future kids" way.

As for Juliette—Eldur’s mother? She was a whole other storm. Gorgeous, sharp-tongued, and terrifying in the best way. She’d once caught me trying to sneak a third muffin from the kitchen and simply raised an eyebrow and said, "Steal one more and I’ll train you in combat myself. With real swords."

I believed her. I also never touched the muffins again without asking. And I’ve only been here three weeks.

Still, it was a dream. A hauntingly beautiful one. Being in that castle felt like being wrapped in velvet and dipped in danger. I loved it.

Until I didn’t.

It started small.

I noticed him—whoever he was—on the second week of our stay. At first, I thought I was being paranoid. Maybe the castle’s shadows just looked like lurking strangers. Maybe I was eating too much cheese before bed.

But then it happened again.

At the town square. I was laughing with Joy—a girl that had become a good friend to me here—as she made fun of the local soap seller’s obsession with naming her soaps things like "Forest Whisper" and "Man Tears." And then I saw him.

Standing near the clocktower. Watching me.

He didn’t blink.

Didn’t move.

Didn’t smile.

Just stared.

I grabbed Joy’s arm. "Don’t look now, but there’s a guy watching us."

"Tall or mysterious?"

"Yes."

"Ohhh," she said dramatically. "Could be a ghost. Or an ex. Or Eldur’s secret twin."

I rolled my eyes. "Not helping."

We laughed it off.

But I saw him again. And again.

At the edge of the forest. In the back row of the church when I went in for the open choir night. By the well near the herb garden. Always there. Always still. Always watching me.

It was like being trapped in a horror movie where no one believed the girl until it was too late.

I tried brushing it off. Told myself maybe he was just a very confused and overly dramatic townsperson. Or a guy who thought I was someone else.

But when I saw him standing by the second floor balcony of the castle one evening—just staring up at my window—I lost it.

I stormed into Eldur’s room, breathing hard.

He was lying on his bed, flipping through a book of ancient runes like it was a comic book.

Without looking up, he said, "If this is about me eating the last muffin, your argument is invalid. You weren’t fast enough."

"I’m being stalked by a vampire."

That got his attention.

He looked up sharply, silver eyes glowing faintly. "What?"

I sat on his bed, gripping his wrist. "There’s this guy. Tall. Pale. Eyes like... storm clouds about to do something illegal. He keeps showing up. I see him everywhere, Eldur. It’s not coincidence."

He was already on his feet, eyes narrowed. "Where exactly have you seen him?"

I threw up my hands. "Everywhere, Eldur! The town square, the church steps, deep in the forest, the garden near the east wing—he was even watching me from the balcony in the castle, like some brooding gothic painting come to life!"

Eldur’s brows pulled together as he rubbed his chin in that annoyingly thoughtful way he does when he’s trying to not panic. "You’re sure it’s not one of my father’s men? He has a few on constant rotation to keep an eye on things."

I shot him a look so flat it could iron shirts. "Do your father’s men usually look at people like they’re trying to decide whether to kiss them or drink them? Because this guy stares at me like I’m some shiny puzzle box with blood type O."

He blinked. "...Possibly."

I flopped onto his bed dramatically, arms flailing like a fainting Victorian lady. "This is serious, Eldur!"

Something shifted in his expression then. The usual arrogance slipped away, and he sat beside me, gently pulling me up to face him. His pretty eyes softened—not something you see every day.

"Alright," he said, low and serious. "I’ll find him. I promise."

Then he kissed my forehead, and I swear the air shimmered around us. Like his promise wasn’t just words—it was bound in whatever old, sacred magic runs in his blood.

That night, he searched the grounds. Again the next night. Everywhere. Nothing.

"Maybe it’s just your imagination," he said gently, fingers weaving through my hair like he was afraid I might snap if he tugged too hard.

"I didn’t imagine him."

"I believe you," he said quietly—and he did. But I could hear the caution in his voice. The way he said it like he was trying to keep me calm more than convince me he wasn’t scared.

So I tried to let it go. I really did.

And for a little while, it worked. I mean, as much as anything can work when you’re living in a vampire castle that smells like sandalwood and secrets.

That night, the castle was unusually still. The kind of still that feels wrong in your bones.

Eldur had walked me to my room, kissed me goodnight, and told me he’d see me in the morning. Everything was normal. Sweet, even.

The sheets smelled like lavender and clean skies. I curled into them, eyes heavy, heart light.

And then—

Click.

It was the door.

And it was opening.

Softly. Deliberately.

I didn’t sit up right away. My brain was still floating somewhere between dreams and reality.

"Eldur?" I mumbled, eyes still closed. "Did you forget something?"

There was no answer.

Then, I heard a quiet creak of wood.

I blinked.

And then I saw him.

Not Eldur.

Him.

The vampire.

The one who’d been following me like a shadow I hadn’t invited.

He stood just inside the room—tall, too still, pale as bone and moonlight. His eyes weren’t kind. They were surgical. Precise. Like he was trying to read me from the inside out.

He closed the door gently behind him.

My stomach dropped straight to the floor. Every instinct in my body hit full alarm mode.

I bolted upright in bed, the covers clutched to my chest, heart pounding like it wanted to escape.

"W-what do you want?" I croaked, voice barely working.

He said nothing.

Didn’t blink.

Just started walking toward me with the kind of calm that made it all worse.

There was no rush in his steps.

No emotion in his face.

Just that same look I’d seen all over town—curiosity, hunger, and something else. Something I couldn’t name but felt in my spine like ice water.

And suddenly, I couldn’t breathe.

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