STRANGER ATTRACTION

Kaelith’s POV

Papa always told me I was found in the woods at dawn, lying on cold ground and bleeding from my nose, ears, and eyes. A hunter had shouted for help, and everyone ran toward the sound, including Papa. I was only five. He called it a miracle I survived. With the deep bite on my right shoulder, he said I had no real chance.

Some said I must have fallen off a cliff, or that someone pushed me. Others stared at the bite like it held secrets they couldn’t understand. Papa swore it looked like a werewolf’s mark. A few argued it was just a wild animal that mistook me for prey. Somehow, I managed to escape before it finished the job.

I don’t know what to think. Werewolves are stories children whisper around firelight to scare themselves. They do not exist. At least, that is what I keep telling myself. Yet sometimes, when I close my eyes and try to remember something from that day—anything—I only see darkness.

But if werewolves don’t exist, then what do I make of mind readers?

"I shouldn’t be staring. But I can’t stop. How can one person have so much hold over me? And yet, I can’t tell her how I feel. I love you, Kaelith. I hope I find the courage to tell you how I really feel about you."

I heard every word fifteen minutes ago, on our way to Corven’s herb shop where I work as an assistant. It was like he spoke directly into my mind, each thought echoing in my head.

Every girl in Ashwood, Maine, would kill for Corven. He’s smart, charming, and doing well in our small, struggling town. But not me—not me, because I am Kaelith Veyre, and Corven is my older brother.

I became part of Papa’s family after waking in his home with no memory of who I was or how I got to the woods. I am Papa’s youngest, the last of six children, and Corven is the first. He has always been… untouchable.

And now, knowing I can hear him, knowing his heart is tangled with words I can never return, I feel a twist in my chest I can’t name. Fear? Anger? Or… something more dangerous? My skin crawls as he steals a glance, oblivious to the storm he has stirred inside me.

Corven and I finally reached the herb shop in the heart of Ashwood, a few minutes past nine. While he was unlocking the door, I could still hear the horrible thoughts racing through his mind. They were loud, messy, and far too dirty for someone who pretends to be calm and composed. I couldn’t take another second standing beside him. I moved away, but distance didn’t help. His thoughts followed me like an echo tied to my skull.

I needed an escape, fast.

I walked back to where he was, still fumbling with the keys because he was too distracted by the storm inside his head. I thought about the perfect excuse—something believable, something that would get me far away from his thoughts. The moment the idea settled in my mind, I grabbed it.

“Corven…” I called, letting my voice wobble as I bent slightly, clutching my stomach.

He turned instantly, eyes wide, panic rising across his face even before he reached me. He rushed to my side so fast he almost tripped on the small wooden step.

“Kaelith, what’s wrong? What is it? Talk to me, please,” he said, his hands hovering around me like he wanted to hold me but didn’t know where it hurt.

I pressed a hand harder against my stomach, exaggerating the discomfort. “I… I think it’s my period,” I said with a shaky sigh. “I’ve been having signs since morning, but I wasn’t sure. I think it came earlier this month.”

His panic spiked. “What? Why didn’t you say anything? You shouldn’t be out here then. Come on, we need to head back home now so you can rest.”

He spun around quickly, rushing toward the shop door to grab his keys, but I forgot myself for a moment and called out too loudly, “Corven, wait!”

He stopped immediately and turned to me, worry written all over him. I quickly remembered I was supposed to be in pain, so I bent again and softened my voice. “I can manage. Really. I’ll just go home on my own.”

“No. Absolutely not,” he said, shaking his head. “You’re not walking home alone like this. I’ll go with you.”

I took a slow breath and forced a weak smile, still clutching my stomach. “Corven… you know people rely on you. The hospital is still closed, and you’re the only one they turn to for herbs. If you leave now, what if someone comes with a serious case? What if someone needs help?”

He hesitated, calculating, torn between worry for me and responsibility for the town.

“I’ll be fine,” I added softly. “It’s just cramps. I can manage. I’ll go straight home and rest.”

His shoulders dropped with a frustrated sigh. “Fine… but promise me you’ll call if it gets worse. Don’t try to manage everything alone.”

“I promise,” I said, trying not to let the relief show too clearly.

He gave me one last lingering look, still filled with worry, before turning back to unlock the shop.

I didn’t wait another second. I walked away quickly—almost too quickly for someone pretending to be in pain—but I didn’t care anymore. I just needed to get far enough so his thoughts wouldn’t reach me again.

And as soon as the distance swallowed the sound of his mind, I finally let out a long breath and allowed myself a moment of relief.

But the relief didn’t last.

“Kaelith!”

My name sounded sharp against the quiet street, and I slowed, squinting over my shoulder to be sure it was me being called. It was. Corven’s familiar face appeared, waving, his steps quickening as he tried to catch up.

I froze. He probably just realized I lied about my period. Last week was real, and he made me soup, fussing over me the whole time.

I couldn’t face him knowing the truth. My mind scrambled for an excuse, but nothing felt safe or believable.

Corven never liked being lied to, and the last thing I wanted was to ruin his day. Panic won.

I had to get away. Without another thought, I bolted.

I ran as fast as my legs could carry me, stealing glances behind me. Corven was catching up, his pace steady, determined.

I swallowed my fear and focused on putting distance between us. But my focus slipped for a second—that was all it took.

I slammed into something solid—warm, unmoving—like walking into a wall made of muscle. The shock jolted through my legs and knocked me off balance, sending me to the ground with a sting racing up my palms.

Whoever it was, their build was too strong to be a woman.

Sitting there and blinking, I mumbled to myself, “Can my morning get any worse?”

The thought barely left my mind before a hand shot out to me.

My gaze trailed upward, slow and hesitant, to a face I wasn’t ready to see.

Veylor Caith.

The stranger who had arrived in our quiet, almost dead town for reasons I couldn’t begin to understand—and now he was standing over me like he had been waiting.