THE SCENT OF MY CURSE

Elara's POV

The body lay face-down in the snow.

I stood on my grandmother's porch, frozen. The sun was just starting to rise over the mountain. Everything looked gray and cold.

At first, I thought someone had dumped trash in our yard. But then I saw the hair. Long and blonde, spread across the white snow.

My heart started pounding.

I should have gone back inside. Should have called the sheriff. My grandmother always told me: if you see something wrong in Black Hollow, turn around and walk away.

But my feet moved forward. Each step made my stomach twist with fear.

It was a person. A woman in a thin nightgown stained with blood. Her feet were bare and frozen.

"Oh god," I whispered.

I knelt in the snow beside her. I didn't want to touch her but I had to check. Maybe she was still alive.

I touched her shoulder with a shaking hand. Her skin was ice cold and stiff. She'd been dead for hours.

Then I saw her throat.

It had been torn open. Not cut with a knife. Ripped apart by teeth and claws. Blood had soaked into the snow around her, turning it dark red.

My stomach turned. I fell backward, scrambling away from the body.

This wasn't the first time I'd seen death in Black Hollow. Bodies appeared after every full moon. The sheriff always said they were animal attacks. Nothing to worry about.

But we all knew better. We knew about the wolves in the forest.

I tried to breathe slowly. I needed to get inside and call for help. But then I saw something.

The dead woman's hand was closed tight, holding something.

I leaned closer. Carefully, I opened her frozen fingers.

A piece of red fabric fell into the snow.

My blood turned to ice.

It was my scarf. The one I lost three days ago at the market. I'd looked everywhere for it.

How did this woman have it? Why was she holding it when she died?

"Elara!"

My grandmother's voice made me jump. She stood on the porch, her face pale and scared.

"Get inside," she said.

"Right now."

"Grandma, there's a body—"

"I know. Get inside. Now."

Her voice was sharp and left no room for argument. I stood up on shaking legs and started walking back. But something made me stop and look back.

That's when I saw the tracks.

Wolf tracks in the snow, leading from the body to the trees. But these weren't normal. They were huge. Each print was twice the size of any wolf I'd ever seen.

I followed the tracks with my eyes to the dark forest.

And I saw him.

A man stood at the edge of the trees, perfectly still, watching me. He was tall and dressed all in black. Even from far away, I could see his eyes. They were silver. They glowed in the dim light.

We stared at each other. I couldn't move. Couldn't breathe. Everything in my body screamed danger.

Then he was gone. Just vanished into the shadows.

"Elara!" My grandmother sounded frightened now.

I ran back to the porch. She grabbed my arm and pulled me inside, slamming the door and locking it.

"Who was that woman?" I asked. My voice shook.

"Why did she have my scarf?"

My grandmother didn't answer. She moved to the window and looked out through the curtain.

"Grandma, please. What's happening?"

"Go to your room," she said quietly.

"Lock the door. Don't come out until I say it's safe."

"What? No. I need to call the sheriff. There's a dead body—"

"I'll handle it. Just go."

I wanted to argue. But I'd never seen her look this scared. Not even during the worst full moons when howling filled the forest for hours.

I went to my room but I didn't lock the door. Instead, I went to my window and looked out.

The body was still there. A dark shape against white snow. I could see blood on the ground. Could see my red scarf lying in the snow.

Then I saw movement.

Someone was walking toward the body. Not my grandmother. Someone else.

The man from the forest.

He was bigger up close. Tall and strong, with black hair and those strange silver eyes. He moved silently through the snow.

He stopped by the body and knelt down. He picked up my scarf, brought it to his nose, and breathed in deeply.

Then he turned and looked directly at my window. Directly at me.

Our eyes met and something happened. It felt like electricity shooting through my body. Like I knew him somehow even though I'd never seen him before. My heart raced. My hands shook.

The man's lips moved. He was saying something but I couldn't hear through the glass.

Then he started walking toward the cabin. Toward me.

Fear flooded through me. I backed away from the window.

I heard my grandmother scream.

I ran from my room down the hallway. The front door was open. Cold air rushed in. My grandmother stood in the doorway, blocking someone.

"You can't come in here," she said. Her voice was strong but scared.

"You have no right."

"I have every right." The man's voice was deep and cold.

"She's mine."

"She doesn't even know what she is. Leave her alone."

"It's too late. The hunt has already begun."

I reached the door and saw him standing on our porch. Up close, he was terrifying. Those silver eyes locked onto mine and I felt that strange electricity again.

"Who are you?" I asked, trying to sound brave.

He smiled but it wasn't warm.

"My name is Kael Draven. And you, Elara Ashwood, are in danger."

"From what?"

"From what's hunting you." He pointed at the yard.

"That woman died because of you. Because she had your scent from your scarf."

My blood ran cold.

"What are you talking about?"

"Something is coming for you. Something that won't stop until you're dead." His eyes stayed on mine.

"The only question is whether you'll accept my protection or die like she did."

My grandmother stepped between us.

"Get off my property."

Kael didn't look away from me.

"You have until nightfall to decide. After that, I can't keep you safe."

He turned and walked away, disappearing into the mist.

My grandmother slammed the door and locked it. She turned to me, her face white.

"Pack a bag," she said.

"We're leaving. Right now."

"Grandma, what's happening? Who was that man? Why did he say that woman died because of me?"

She grabbed my shoulders tight.

"There are things I haven't told you. Things about your mother. About what you are." Her voice broke.

"I thought I had more time. I thought if I kept you hidden, maybe the prophecy would be wrong."

"What prophecy?"

Before she could answer, something crashed through the front window. Glass exploded everywhere.

I screamed. My grandmother pulled me back.

A dead rabbit lay in the broken glass. Its throat had been torn out like the woman's. And written on the floor in blood were two

words:

YOU'RE NEXT.