Elise’s breath hitched. She had heard stories of him—stories of his power, his ruthlessness, and his infamous temper. The sight of him up close was overwhelming. His tall, commanding frame exuded authority, and his sharp, chiseled features were as cold and unyielding as marble. But it was his eyes—those piercing amber eyes—that held her captive. They weren’t filled with rage as she had feared. Instead, they burned with something else. Something she couldn’t name.
“I—I’m so sorry!” Elise stammered, stepping back in horror. “I didn’t mean—” Kai raised a hand, silencing her apology. “It’s fine,” he said, his voice deep and calm, startling her further. The crowd gasped in unison, their disbelief palpable. Everyone knew Kai’s temper. For him to be this calm in the face of such an insult—it was unheard of. Kai’s gaze softened as it lingered on her, and for a moment, the room seemed to shrink until it was just the two of them. He reached for a napkin from a passing waiter and began to dab at the stain on his suit, but Elise quickly snatched it from him. “Let me!” she pleaded, her cheeks burning with shame. Kai didn’t stop her, his intense gaze fixed on her as she clumsily tried to clean the mess. Her hands trembled, and she could barely hold the napkin steady. “It’s just a suit,” Kai said quietly, his voice barely audible over the pounding in her ears. Elise glanced up at him, surprised by the softness in his tone. Their eyes met, and for a fleeting moment, the noise of the world around them disappeared. It was just him and her, locked in a silent exchange that neither of them understood. Kai took a step closer, and Elise’s breath caught. The intensity in his eyes was almost too much to bear. Her heart raced, and she felt a strange pull toward him, like an invisible thread was tying them together. Then, just as suddenly as it began, the moment ended. Kai stepped back, his expression unreadable. Without a word, he turned and walked toward the front door, disappearing into the night. Elise stood there, her heart still racing. The spell was broken, but the memory of his gaze lingered. Whispers spread through the crowd like wildfire, but Elise didn’t care to listen. She needed air. She bolted for the exit, ignoring the stares and murmurs that followed her. Once outside, she took a deep breath, the cool night air soothing her frayed nerves. The thought of taking a cab crossed her mind, but the weight of the evening urged her to seek solitude. Instead, she decided to take the trail through the woods—a path she knew well from her years in Archview. The forest was dark. Moonlight streamed through the canopy above. Elise’s footsteps were the only sound as she made her way through the trail. The earlier feeling of being watched returned, stronger this time. Her pace quickened. A rustle in the bushes made her freeze. She spun around, her eyes darting to the shadows, but saw nothing. Elise tried to reassure herself that everything was alright. She knew these woods like the back of her hand. There was no reason to fret over what seemed to be a stray rabbit, right? But the unease didn’t leave her. Another sound—a faint growl. Elise’s pulse spiked. She broke into a run, her short steps turning into desperate strides. The shadows seemed to move with her, following her every step. Then, out of nowhere, a massive black wolf crashed down from the trees, landing directly in her path. Elise skidded to a halt, her breath hitching in terror. The wolf was unlike any she had ever seen. Its fur was pitch black, its eyes glowing an unnatural red. Before Elise could react, more wolves emerged from the shadows, their eyes gleaming with the same eerie light. They surrounded her, their low growls vibrating through the air. Elise’s mind raced. She had no wolf, no strength, no chance against them. The lead wolf snarled, baring its teeth. It circled her, its movements predatory and calculated. The other wolves followed suit, closing in on her. Elise’s back hit a tree, and she knew there was no escape. The lead wolf lunged. Instinct took over. Elise raised her hands, bracing for impact. But the impact never came. Instead, an invisible force erupted from her outstretched hands, sending the wolf flying into a nearby tree. The sound of the crash echoed through the forest, and the other wolves froze in shock. Elise stared at her hands, her chest heaving. What had she just done? The wolves recovered quickly, their shock turning to rage. They attacked all at once, their growls deafening the air between them. Elise raised her hands again, and the same invisible force burst forth, throwing the wolves back. But one of them was faster, recovering quick from the knock back and coming at her. A searing pain tore through her back as its claws raked across her skin. She cried out, her blood soaking through her clothes. The force of the strike sent her crashing to the ground, her crescent necklace flying off her neck to the dirt. The wolves regrouped, their leader snarling orders. Elise knew she couldn’t hold them off much longer. Her vision blurred, her strength fading. Then, a howl pierced the air. The wolves froze, their ears perking up. The sound was powerful, commanding, and filled with authority. Panic flashed in their glowing red eyes. One by one, they retreated, disappearing into the shadows. Elise collapsed to her knees, her strength gone. Through her blurring vision, she saw a massive wolf emerge from the thicket. Its golden eyes locked onto her as it shifted, its form morphing into that of a man. Kai. He knelt beside her, his expression filled with concern. “Elise,” he said, his voice soft but urgent. Elise tried to speak, but the words wouldn’t come. Her vision darkened, and the last thing she saw was Kai’s face, illuminated by the moonlight, before everything went black. The first thing Elise noticed when she woke was the faint scent of lavender and herbs, mixed with the sterile smell of disinfectant. Her eyelids fluttered open, and she was greeted by a warm, golden light filtering through the gauzy curtains of the infirmary. Her body ached, particularly her back, where the wolf’s claws had left their mark. The faint sting of the injury made her wince as she tried to move. “You’re awake,” a soft voice said, drawing Elise’s attention to a middle-aged woman in a pale green uniform. Her kind eyes crinkled as she smiled. “Where am I?” Elise croaked, her voice hoarse. “The pack house infirmary,” the woman said, stepping closer with a tray of steaming bowls. “You’ve been unconscious for a day and a half. The healers have been working on your injuries, but you’ll need more rest to fully recover.” The mention of the pack house sent a jolt through Elise. She had never been here before, never been allowed to step into the sanctum of the wolves who ruled her world. The infirmary was surprisingly elegant, its walls lined with shelves of herbs and tonics. Everything felt alien yet strangely comforting. The memories of the attack in the forest surged back, causing Elise to sit up abruptly, only to hiss in pain. “Easy now,” the healer said, gently pressing her back onto the soft mattress. “I... there was a wolf,” Elise stammered, her heartbeat quickening. “No, a pack of wolves. And then—” She paused, her thoughts scrambling to piece together the fragmented images. “There was someone. Kai. The Lycan leader. He—” “He brought you here,” the healer confirmed, her tone calm and steady. Elise’s heart skipped. “Where is he?” The healer hesitated, her smile dimming. “The Alpha has other matters to attend to. You won’t see him here.” The answer left Elise with more questions than relief. Why had he saved her? And why had he disappeared? “When will I leave?” Elise asked, her voice softer now. The healer placed a damp cloth on Elise’s forehead, her movements tender. “You’ll stay here until you’re fully healed. After that, you’ll return home.” Home. The word felt like a weight on Elise’s chest. The thought of going back to her aunt’s house, back to the endless ridicule, made her stomach churn. Elise’s hands roamed to her neck. It was with great shock that she realised an important part of her was missing.The tavern’s light fractured in Elise’s eyes, lantern flames blooming like orbs suspended in water. The air hummed, too loud, too soft, each voice in the room stretching into echoes as if the walls themselves mocked her for staying. She pressed a hand to her forehead, but even her palm felt strange—heavy and distant, like it belonged to someone else.Her bones no longer carried her the way they should. Her legs were too light, her chest too tight. The glass in front of her tilted, though she hadn’t touched it in minutes. She swallowed, tasting iron under the bitterness of ale.“Elise,” Luka’s voice came, low and measured. But to her, it wasn’t Luka speaking.She blinked at him, her eyes slow to focus. His lips moved, and she swore she heard only Kai’s voice, clipped at the edges with guilt and distance.Her throat tightened. “Why are you ignoring me?”The question fell out before she could bite it back. Luka stiffened, the faintest flicker in his eyes betraying surprise. He watched h
The room swayed. Not with the measured rhythm of music, but with a sickly pulse, as though the tavern itself had learned to breathe and its lungs were filling too fast. Elise pressed her palms against the table, grounding herself against the wood’s sticky grain. The ale in her throat had turned to honey, too sweet, too thick, sticking to her chest as though it wanted to climb back up again.She should have stopped after the first cup. She knew her limits. But limits had never been enough to save her.Across from her, Luka watched. He leaned back, casual in posture, but his eyes betrayed him—dark, deliberate, studying every small falter in her breath. And Elise, blinking hard against the smears of lanternlight, saw someone else in his place.Her heart stuttered.“Kai,” she whispered.Luka’s gaze sharpened. Then, slowly, he leaned forward, as if the name belonged to him. “Elise.”Her breath caught. For weeks, Kai had spoken less and less, letting silence sit between them like a stranger
The city was quieter than it should have been. Even laughter in the streets carried an edge, brittle as glass, as if no one dared to forget how quickly joy could turn to screaming. Elise walked among them with her shoulders hunched, her hood drawn low, her heart a weight she could not set down.Sleep had become a stranger. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw fire. Heard voices. Felt the cold hands of the girl who called her by another name in her dreams. It was not death that frightened her—it was the thought of becoming hollow, of waking one day with nothing left of herself.Kai noticed. Of course he did. But he had grown quieter, more withdrawn, his words clipped, his gaze averted when hers lingered too long. Whatever tether they had managed to weave between them was fraying, strand by strand.She felt it most in the silence. Silence that told her she was alone.And Becky knew.Behind closed doors, Becky watched her prey. She had always been patient—predators were. A net was
The Everglade House wasn’t the only ruin that carried ghosts.By the third night in the half-burned shop, Elise could no longer tell whether the silence pressed harder inside the walls or inside her chest. The argument with Kai hung like smoke that refused to lift—every glance too sharp, every word too careful, as though either of them might split open if touched wrong.So she worked.She kept her hands moving, repairing the worn straps of her armor with scavenged thread, grinding herbs she had managed to salvage into a paste that smelled sharp and bitter. She set Kai’s sword across her lap and polished it until the steel caught the candlelight like ice. Anything to keep from staring at him too long, from thinking too long.Kai, for his part, lingered near the door like a restless sentinel, though his wounds still pulled at him when he moved. He checked the street through the cracked wood every few minutes, his jaw set, as if he expected the world itself to storm through and demand
The shop still smelled of ash.Days had passed since the square burned, but the smoke never left Elise’s lungs. It clung to her skin, her hair, her every breath. Even when she tried to sleep, she woke with her throat raw, as if the flames had followed her into her dreams.She sat by the cracked window now, the glass long gone, the jagged frame opening to a street emptied of life. The city still stirred outside—distant wheels on cobblestones, the bark of a dog, a bell tolling from somewhere deeper in the smoke—but here, in this husk of blackened beams and fallen plaster, it was as if time had stopped.Her spear lay across her lap. She had cleaned it three times already, scraping away the dried blood until the wood was bare again. But no amount of polishing could erase the weight of it. It was more than a weapon now—it was memory, burden, survival.Behind her, Kai shifted. He made a noise low in his throat, half a groan, half an attempt to swallow it down. She glanced back without turni
The square was dying.Flames clawed at the night sky, painting it blood-red as roofs collapsed in bursts of sparks. The mob had scattered—some fleeing into the alleys, others crushed beneath the stampede, their bodies trampled and broken. Smoke hung low, choking, thick with ash and blood.Elise stumbled forward, half-dragging Kai, half-dragged herself. Her spear was still clenched in her hand, though her fingers had gone numb. Her wounds burned like fire, every step a scream.“Keep moving,” Kai rasped, his weight heavy on her shoulder. Blood soaked through his tunic, hot and wet, but his grip on his sword had not loosened. His jaw was set, eyes fixed on the dark street beyond the inferno.Behind them, Mira staggered, one hand pressed tight against her ribs. She coughed, the sound raw, tearing, but her voice held. “Alley—there, before it closes.”Elise forced her legs to obey. They veered into a narrow passage, shadows swallowing them whole. Behind them, the square collapsed into chaos