THE MIDNIGHT HUNT

CHAPTER 3:

Eleanor didn't stay on campus. She fled back to her apartment, locked the door, and spent three hours sitting in the dark with the blinds pulled tight. By midnight, the burning fever under her skin had subsided into a low, frantic energy that made her muscles ache. Staying inside felt like trying to breathe underwater.

Needing air, she pulled on a black hoodie, grabbed her car keys, and drove thirty minutes west out of the city toward Sweetwater Creek.

The state park was closed after dark, but Eleanor bypassed the main gate, stepping onto the dirt trail that ran alongside the river. The woods were cold, the damp Georgia earth smelling sharp under the autumn sky. Yet, for the first time in weeks, the tight knot in her chest eased. She could hear everything the rustle of pine needles overhead, the scuttle of a field mouse thirty yards away, the steady rush of the creek down in the ravine.

She began to run.

Her boots hit the dirt with quiet precision. She was moving fast faster than she had ever run in her life and she wasn't even winded. Trees passed in a dark blur, her feet effortlessly navigating exposed roots and loose rocks in the pitch black.

Then, the smell hit her.

It was a thick, metallic stench that turned her stomach, slicing through the clean pine air like a blade. Blood.

Eleanor skidded to a halt on a high ridge overlooking a clearing, pulling herself behind a wide oak tree. She held her breath, her heart slamming against her ribs.

Down in the ravine, two shapes were moving.

They weren't human. They were monsters massive, terrifying beasts shaped like wolves, but easily the size of a small truck. One was a scruffy, mangy grey, snorting foam and dark red blood as it snapped its jaws wild with panic. The other was a towering creature of solid black shadow, moving with lethal, terrifying grace.

Eleanor pressed her back against the tree bark, her hands shaking as she tried not to scream.

With a brutal, sickening crack that echoed through the trees, the black wolf lunged, pinning the grey beast to the dirt. The grey one let out a sharp, dying whimper, stiffened, and then went completely still.

Silence fell over the woods.

Eleanor held her breath, freezing in place. She needed to run, but her legs felt like lead.

Slowly, the black wolf turned its massive head toward the ridge.

It didn't sniff the air; it looked straight at the oak tree. Step by heavy step, the monster ascended the steep hill, its black fur matted with dark blood. It crested the ridge and stepped into the moonlight, stopping barely ten feet from where Eleanor stood trembling.

It lowered its dark head, a low, gravelly rumble vibrating in its chest.

Eleanor braced herself to die. But the attack never came.

The wolf raised its eyes. They were a vivid, striking amber eyes she recognized instantly from the lecture hall that morning.

The creature didn't look angry; it looked bewildered. It took one slow step closer, nudging its wet, dark nose toward Eleanor's hands. An strange, electric heat rushed through her veins, identical to the spark she had felt in the classroom. Deep inside Eleanor's chest, something raw and ancient clawed its way to the surface, responding to the beast's presence with an overwhelming, instinctual pull.

Run, her human brain screamed.

Eleanor broke the spell. She backed away, tripped over a thick root, scrambled to her feet, and took off into the trees.

She didn't look back. She ran with inhuman speed, leaping over wide gullies and dodging heavy branches effortlessly, her heightened vision turning the pitch-black forest into stark shades of silver and grey. The trees vanished behind her as she burst out of the woods, threw open her car door, and tore down the highway toward Alpharetta.

Thirty minutes later, her tires screeched as she pulled into the long, winding driveway of her family's gated estate.

She slammed through the front doors, covered in forest mud, twigs stuck in her dark hair, her breath coming in ragged gasps.

"Dad!" she screamed into the quiet, pristine foyer. "Dad!"

Heavy footsteps echoed down the grand marble staircase. Her father, Julian Vale, appeared at the landing wearing a dark silk robe, his sharp eyes instantly taking in her wild, terrified appearance.

"Eleanor?" Julian stepped down quickly, his hands grasping her trembling shoulders. "What happened? Are you hurt?"

"I saw something," Eleanor choked out, tears finally breaking through her wide, panicked eyes. "In the woods. There were... there were wolves, Dad. Giant wolves. One of them killed the other, and it looked at me, and I…. I didn't run at first because I could feel it! I could feel what it was thinking!"

She gripped his sleeves, her voice rising in hysteria. "And my eyes were glowing gold in the mirror today, and I caught a glass without looking, and I ran ten miles in five minutes! What is wrong with me? Am I going crazy?"

Julian looked at her wet face, his jaw tightening into a hard, solemn line. He didn't look surprised. He didn't look confused.

He just looked old.

"You aren't going crazy, Eleanor," Julian said softly, his voice heavy with a weight she had never heard before. He looked past her toward the darkened windows of the estate, as if checking the shadows. "Come into the study. It's time."