SECRETS BENEATH THE SURFACE

Elora couldn’t sleep. The cabin creaked and groaned in the night, each sound sending a shiver down her spine. Shadows danced across the walls, warped by the flickering light of the single candle Joel had lit. He sat near the door, his back against the wall, his piercing blue eyes scanning the room.

He hadn’t spoken much after their initial conversation, his attention split between tending his wounds and keeping watch. His silence only heightened Elora’s unease. She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to dispel the chill that seemed to seep into her bones.

Her mind reeled. Joel’s words played over and over like a broken record—there’s something about you. She tried to make sense of it, but each thought led to more questions than answers.

Finally, the oppressive silence became too much. She sat up, her heart pounding. “Joel,” she said softly.

He didn’t respond immediately, but his head tilted slightly, letting her know he was listening.

“What did you mean earlier?” she asked. “About me being different?”

Joel exhaled, running a hand through his messy hair. “It’s complicated.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” she said firmly. “So try.”

Joel turned to face her, his expression shadowed but intense. “Have you ever felt like there’s more to you than what you see? Like you’re...connected to something bigger?”

Elora frowned. The question hit her harder than she expected. For as long as she could remember, she had felt out of place. The town, her school, even her own home—they all felt like backdrops to a play where she didn’t belong. But she had always chalked it up to her restless nature, nothing more.

“Maybe,” she admitted, her voice hesitant.

Joel nodded. “That feeling isn’t random. There’s something inside you, Elora. Something that ties you to this world—the world of wolves and rogues. That’s why the rogue came after you.”

Her pulse quickened. “What are you saying? That I’m like you? A werewolf?”

“No,” Joel said quickly. “Not like me. It’s...different. I can feel it, but I don’t know what it is. That’s why we need answers.”

“Answers from who?” she demanded, her voice rising. “Because I’m pretty sure there’s no ‘Werewolves for Dummies’ book lying around.”

A faint smile tugged at Joel’s lips, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “There’s an elder—someone who’s been around long enough to know the history of our kind. If anyone can help us figure out what’s going on, it’s him.”

Elora leaned forward. “Where is he?”

Joel’s expression darkened. “Far from here. Getting to him won’t be easy. The journey is dangerous, even for me.”

Elora swallowed hard. “Do we have another choice?”

“No,” Joel said simply. “Not if you want to stay alive.”

A heavy silence fell over the room. Elora sat back, her thoughts swirling. Everything Joel had said sounded impossible, yet the memory of the rogue’s glowing eyes and the primal fear she felt in the woods were undeniable.

As she mulled over Joel’s words, a sound reached her ears. At first, she thought it was the wind, but then she realized it was a low, guttural growl. Her blood ran cold.

“Joel,” she whispered, her voice trembling.

He was on his feet in an instant, his movements fluid despite his injuries. His sharp eyes scanned the darkness outside the small window. “Stay behind me,” he ordered.

The growl grew louder, closer. It was joined by the crunch of leaves and the snap of twigs, each sound amplifying the tension in the room. Elora pressed herself against the wall, her breath shallow as fear tightened its grip on her.

The cabin door rattled, a low thud vibrating through the room. Joel reached for the small dagger strapped to his waist, his jaw set in determination.

“Whatever happens, don’t run,” he said without looking at her.

The door shuddered again, harder this time. Elora could feel the vibrations beneath her feet.

“Joel—” she started, but her words were cut off as the door burst open with a deafening crash.

A massive figure filled the doorway, its eyes glowing an unnatural yellow. Its ragged breaths echoed in the confined space, each exhale sending a wave of dread through Elora.

Joel moved faster than she thought possible, placing himself between her and the intruder. “You’re not welcome here,” he growled, his voice low and dangerous.

The creature snarled in response, its sharp teeth gleaming in the dim light. Elora’s heart pounded as she pressed herself further into the corner, her mind screaming for her to run even as Joel’s warning echoed in her ears.

The battle for survival had begun.

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