When the Shadows Linger.

Winter's POV:

I blink awake to moon light spilling across the room window and for a moment, panic twists in my chest.

Where…where was I?

What happened?

My body feels heavy, each limb weighed down by some invisible force. My head throbs, every nerve seems raw, alive. It feels like my body was used as a lawn mower, my side hurting like crazy.

The haze clears and I realize I'm in Derrick's room, the familiar sheets bringing me some level of calm. .

I try to remember what led me into this situation.

I remember words written in messy ink, looping carelessly across parchment.

“Also, I miss your ass.”

Oh yeah, I was in the halls, reading that note from Derrick.

My chest still feels light from his words.

Okay, so I was reading the note from Derrick, then what happened?

I think I bumped into someone…

I try to remember what happened after but my mind is blank, and trying to think gives me a migraine.

I take a deep breath, trying to calm myself.

Someone had been here. I knew it. The memory…or was it a feeling?-lingered like smoke curling through my mind.

My mind feels like an array of different things, several things happening all at once. My magic feels off, my body is in pain and my brain keeps remembering things I don't remember happening.

There are snippets of voices floated, disjointed, impossible to fully understand, like it's some trailer of a movie:

“…someone…hurt…her…”

Me?

“…don’t lie…”

About what?

“…Winter…answer…”

Answer who?

I frown. I hadn’t been conscious for any of that. But the words clawed at me, sharp, urgent, and alive. Someone had been speaking, speaking about me. The tone wasn’t just anger. It was…fierce. Protective. Terrifying.

I pressed a hand to my chest. My pulse raced, echoing against the fragments of memory. I hadn’t seen who it was, but the feeling in my bones said they were strong. Dangerous. Someone I couldn’t, and didn’t want to ignore.

“…who did this to her…answer for it…”

Who is this she this voice keeps talking about?

Was it Keon? Or Derrick that spoke about me like I was the only thing that mattered?

The words shivered through my subconscious, leaving a trail of dread. I didn’t remember what happened. I didn’t remember falling. But the bruises, the faint ache in my side, and the sharp sting in my arm told me enough: someone had tried to hurt me. Someone had succeeded, at least for a moment.

At least I think so.

I shift my weight around slightly, wincing as pain flows through my limbs.

Another memory comes back.

This one was different. The memory of being lifted, held in strong arms, carried somewhere safe. The warmth pressed against me, steady, commanding, and incredibly familiar.

Keon.

My mind whispered the name, though I didn’t fully understand why it felt right. But when I glanced around, he wasn’t here. My stomach tightened. If he wasn’t the one guarding me now…then who had?

Who brought me here to safety?

The shadows in the room seemed longer than they should, stretching and trembling, holding their breath. I could feel the tension in the air, sharp, electric. The glow of the moon was brighter than ever, another reminder of how close the full moon was.

The warmth remained, soft but unrelenting, threading through me, calming me even as it made my chest ache.

Yet another memory surfaces.

“…Winter…she’s ours now…”

The words hovered in my mind. I hadn’t heard them clearly, but I felt them. Possession. Protection. A promise that whoever hurt me would answer for it. Yes, I was sure I heard all of that, even though I had never truly been awake to hear it.

I sink back against the pillows, trying to make sense of the fragments. Someone had saved me. Someone had kept me safe while I slept. And somewhere inside, I felt gratitude, deep, fierce, confusing gratitude, but also fear.

Who was strong enough to attack me and hurt me this bad and go undetected?

Whoever it was…they weren’t ordinary. Not in the slightest. I could feel it.

I tried to sit up, to reach for something to steady myself, and realized how alone I truly was. The room was quiet, still, and the shadows seemed to linger, watching. My hand brushed the sheets, warm from whoever had been here last. That presence. So commanding, so alive, made me both comforted and uneasy.

I pressed my fingers to my lips, trying to remember every fragment, every whispered word. A voice, his anger, his fury, even in pieces burned into my mind like fire on my skin.

But I haven’t seen him. I don’t even know who the voice belongs to.

Not yet.

And then the quiet breaks. A soft shift at the doorway. Footsteps, careful, deliberate, approaching this room.

Someone was entering.

I froze, pulse spiking. My eyes tracked the movement, heart hammering in my chest. I didn’t know who it was yet, didn’t know whether to feel relief…or dread.

The shadows shifted again. The temperature in the room dropped slightly, and my subconscious, still tangled in the remnants of anger and power I had sensed, whispered a warning I couldn’t ignore: whoever stepped inside…this would not be ordinary.

And then, the door creaked open.