Chapter 2: Run

“Loved Until Death” was no mere love drama, but a chilling documentary recounting the true story of Lilith Covet – a woman consumed by obsession for her high school crush. As the years passed, her desire twisted into fixation. Though he rejected her countless times, she refused to relent.

Eventually, she snapped.

Lilith devised a plan to kidnap and torture him until his will broke, and he succumbed to Stockholm syndrome. For three years, she kept him hidden. When suspicion finally fell upon her, police raided her home. In the cellar, they found Lilith seated upon her captive’s lap, his arms wrapped protectively around her waist.

She threatened to end both their lives if the officers drew closer.

In the chaos that followed, she was shot before she could fulfil her promise. The man was saved. Unfortunately, the damage had already been done. Lilith had psychologically ruined him beyond repair. Two months later, he took his own life, leaving behind a note claiming he simply wished to be with his love once more.

“Something tells me you’ve read that book,” Bellinor murmured, catching the flicker of unease in Alinta’s gaze.

She snapped back to the present, her voice faltering. “Y-yes… I have.”

“A fascinating documentary, don’t you think, my darling?” His grin widened the moment her eyes met his.

“I think it’s tragic,” Alinta replied coldly, masking her discomfort as her fingers twitched at her sides. “No creature should be forced to love someone, no matter how strong the desire.”

“But the question remains,” Bellinor whispered, his grey eyes glinting. “In the end… did he learn to love her? Did she truly capture his heart? Was it love on his side – or madness – that made him stay? That a mere human woman could bind a man so tightly he could not live without her?” His enthusiasm in his voice sent a shiver down her spine. “The mind and heart… extraordinary things, aren’t they?”

“The fuck?” Angela snarled, claws ripping free as the fur along her spine bristled. She was coiled tight, feral and ready to attack.

“Here you go, Mr. Crassus. Enjoy your Sunday,” Alinta said sharply, turning away before he could speak again.

“I think we better head home via the back door, and ASAP,” Angela urged, her tone edged with caution.

“Way ahead of you,” Alinta breathed, her chest tightening as she bolted for the exit. Only once she’d put distance between them did she slow, though her steps remained brisk.

“What the fuck was that back there?”

“I couldn’t agree more, Ange. That was just… too creepy.” She shuddered at the memory of his grin. “It’s the first time in ages he’s spoken to me so casually. And where the hell was Jenny? She never leaves the desk without leaving a note!”

“Don’t overthink it,” Angela advised. “Let’s get home. We can text Helen an apology later, she’ll understand.”

Alinta mentally agreed and kept moving.

Alinta was a twenty-nine-year-old werewolf with striking auburn hair and almond-shaped, emerald eyes. Her build was medium; not particularly athletic, but curved in all the right places. Like humans, shifters came in all shapes and sizes, some beautiful and others less so. As the saying went, beauty lay in the eye of the beholder.

Werewolves carried a second soul, a wolf spirit, fierce and eternal. These wolves resided in a spirit realm resembling a vast forest, shaped according to their character. Werewolves could exchange bodies or minds with their wolves and exist fully within this spirit forest.

The government was aware of their existence, as well as that of other mythical beings. An agreement had been forged to keep this knowledge a secret, on condition that these races helped maintain order among all living creatures. This pact was born from a violent past: when humans first discovered shifters, chaos erupted, war followed, and blood was spilled. A chapter best left forgotten.

Some werewolves lived primarily in their wolf form, roaming the forests, while their human selves rested within the spirit realm. Others favoured their human bodies, shifting only when needed. All were free to travel, provided they obeyed human laws and avoided shifting in populated areas. Each magical race had its own territory, places absent from all human maps.

Alinta lived in a small werewolf town called Umber Valley, a close-knit community much like any human settlement. Yet, she remained largely isolated. She had spent her entire life there, growing up in a cottage on the rural edge of the forest with her mother.

She preferred to be a lone wolf, venturing into town only for work or to visit her small circle of friends. As the town’s librarian, she had found the perfect balance: quiet seclusion paired with access to the books she adored.

Living alone meant she was responsible for herself and her mother’s memory. After her mother passed from organ failure nine years earlier, Alinta inherited a modest fortune, which she used solely to maintain the cottage and tend her mother’s grave.

“Ange,” Alinta panted, her breath short, “do you mind if we shift and you take over? I’m not feeling very strong.”

“You sound terrible, Als,” Angela replied, concern seeping through. “Sure, go rest.”

“Thanks,” Alinta said, teleporting instantly into her wolf’s spirit realm.

She made her way to the silver river, her favourite place, and sank into the cool, lush grass, listening to the water flow.

“How are you feeling?” Angela’s voice echoed gently.

“The moment I arrived, my headache vanished. Are you feeling anything?”

“Yeah… as soon as I took over, your headache hit me.” Angela frowned. “It’s weird. It should’ve disappeared when we shifted, and it’s not getting better. I can handle it, though. My pain threshold’s higher than yours.”

She quickened her pace, powerful limbs stretching with each stride, her coat fluttering in the wind.

“I hope we’re not getting sick!” Alinta groaned dramatically, covering her eyes. After a beat, she added, “Oi, are you okay? Want to switch back?”

“I need... to focus. Half a kilometre left,” Angela breathed.

Alinta closed her eyes and reached for her wolf, sensing the strain in her body. She tried to channel her energy, but Angela’s vision blurred. Fear crept in – something was wrong.

“Almost there...” Angela panted.

 A familiar wooden structure loomed ahead.

The porch.

Just as recognition struck, darkness swallowed them both.

Normally, Alinta would have been able to switch back, her wolf body reverted to human form, a built-in safety mechanism of having two souls.

But this time, the safeguard failed.