CHAPTER 2- THE EYES IN THE FOREST

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Chapter Two: The Eyes in the Forest

Sleep did not come easily.

Aria tossed and turned beneath the thick quilt, her body restless despite the warmth of the fire still glowing in the hearth. Her thoughts kept spiraling back to the forest—the golden eyes, the electric tension, the way her body had reacted like it knew whoever, or whatever, had been watching her.

By the time the sun finally rose behind a veil of morning mist, she’d barely slept a wink.

She gave up on rest and headed to the kitchen to make coffee. The scent of strong brew filled the cabin as she paced near the window, eyes flicking out toward the woods again.

Nothing.

The trees stood tall and silent. No movement. No eyes.

Was it real?

She almost believed she’d imagined it. The fatigue. The stress of moving. The unfamiliar surroundings. It could all play tricks on the mind, right?

But her body hadn’t imagined that feeling. The awareness. The heat. The fear laced with something she didn’t want to name.

Desire.

She didn’t even know what he looked like—if it was a he. But she’d felt him. Like her soul had reached for something just out of sight.

Shaking the thoughts off, she stepped outside, mug in hand, and let the morning air bite into her skin. The forest still loomed behind the cabin, but in the daylight, it looked less threatening—almost inviting.

She wandered down the path behind the house, crunching through fallen leaves, steam rising from her cup as her boots disturbed the silence.

Birds chirped in the distance, and a light breeze rustled the branches overhead. Everything was calm, normal. Aria let herself breathe, truly breathe, for the first time since she’d arrived.

Maybe last night had just been a bad dream.

She rounded a bend near the trees—and froze.

There were tracks.

Large, fresh paw prints in the soft earth.

She crouched down, her coffee forgotten. They were huge—twice the size of her hand. Not dog. Not bear either. Something… different. She reached out, tracing the edges. The ground was still damp. These weren’t old.

She looked up sharply, eyes scanning the treeline.

“Okay,” she whispered. “What the hell are you?”

The wind shifted, and a scent hit her then—faint, but rich and wild. Like pine needles, musk, and something darker. It made her head spin.

She stumbled back, clutching her mug like a shield. Her heartbeat quickened again, that same sensation from last night creeping over her skin like a caress.

Eyes. Watching.

She turned on her heel and rushed back to the cabin.

Inside, she locked the door, pulled the curtains, and grabbed her phone.

Another text from Mrs. Briar.

“Hope you slept well. Locals say wolves are out early this season. Be careful.”

Wolves.

Aria exhaled shakily.

Of course. That explained the tracks. The eyes. The scent. Wolves.

Except it didn’t.

No wolf could stare at her like that. No animal made her body react like it was responding to something ancient and sacred.

She ran a hand through her hair and paced the floor.

She needed answers. She needed to know more about this place. About what kind of “wolves” the locals meant.

So, she grabbed her keys and headed into town.

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Crescent Ridge’s town square was small and old-fashioned. Brick buildings, narrow streets, shops with hand-painted signs. A coffee shop called The Hollow Bean caught her eye, and she ducked inside.

Warm air, the smell of cinnamon, and the low hum of conversation greeted her.

She ordered a latte and sat near the window, taking in the locals.

They were… quiet. Watchful.

Everyone seemed to know everyone else. She could feel their eyes on her—the outsider. The newcomer. A few people offered polite nods, but most kept their distance.

As she sipped her coffee, a woman approached. She was in her sixties, with sharp green eyes and silver streaks in her long braid. She wore a woven shawl and moved like someone used to being in control.

“You must be the one staying in Briar’s old cabin,” the woman said, her voice low and even.

Aria nodded slowly. “Yeah. I moved in yesterday.”

The woman didn’t smile. “Keep to the roads. Don’t go wandering near the woods at night.”

There it was again. That warning.

“Why?” Aria asked, keeping her voice casual. “Wolves?”

The woman tilted her head. “Among other things.”

Before Aria could ask more, the woman turned and walked away, disappearing through the front door like smoke on the wind.

Aria stared after her, unsettled.

What the hell was this town?

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That night, after another long walk around the cabin to double-check the locks, Aria sat near the fireplace, her journal open in her lap.

She used to write every day. It helped her sort out her thoughts. Her pain. But tonight, the page remained mostly blank.

Her thoughts were consumed by those eyes. That scent. The way the trees seemed to shift when she stared too long.

She tapped her pen against the page.

“Something is out there. Watching me. I should be afraid. But I’m not. I feel…”

She paused, thinking.

“…connected. Drawn. Like I’ve been waiting my whole life for him.”

She scratched the last word out. It felt crazy. Too soon. Too intense.

She closed the journal and moved to the window, pulling the curtain back just a little.

The moon had risen. Full and bright, spilling silver light across the trees.

And just beyond the treeline, she saw him again.

Not just his eyes this time.

A figure.

Tall. Broad. Bare-chested. Half-shadowed by mist, but unmistakably… male.

He didn’t move. Just stood there. Watching her.

Her breath caught. The mug slipped from her hand and shattered on the floor.

But she didn’t look

away.

Because deep down, her soul already knew—

He was coming for her.

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Ready for Chapter Three?