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CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO: BEFORE THE STORM GITS.
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2025-12-27 07:42:06BEFORE THE STORM HITS
I woke up before the knock this time. I woke up because my chest felt too full, like my lungs had forgotten how much air they were supposed to take in.
I lay there staring at the ceiling, counting the cracks I had memorized during the days I refused to leave this room. There were seven long ones and one that curved oddly to the left. I used to trace them with my eyes until my thoughts slowed enough for sleep.
This morning, they didn’t help.
The dream still clung to me. Not images exactly, more like impressions. A forest that wasn’t Silvercrest. Trees that leaned inward. A moon that felt closer than it should have been. And the feeling of standing on four legs without knowing how I knew that was wrong.
I pressed my palm to my chest.
My wolf stirred, not fully awake, not asleep either. It felt like she was listening to something I couldn’t hear.
A knock came, gentle.
“Emily,” Grandma’s voice called through the door. “Are you awake?”
“Yes,” I answered quickly. Too quickly.
The door opened anyway. She peeked in like I might vanish if she looked too directly at me.
“You were up early yesterday,” she said. “I thought I’d check.”
“I’m fine,” I replied automatically.
She smiled, the same soft smile she had been using lately. It was careful. Like she was afraid of pressing too hard.
“Breakfast is ready,” she said. “No rush.”
I nodded. “I’ll come down.”
She hesitated, then added, “Daniel mentioned training resumes this afternoon.”
“I know.”
Another pause. Then she left.
I sat up slowly, swinging my legs over the side of the bed. The floor was cold. It grounded me in a way the dreams hadn’t allowed.
I dressed without thinking too much about it. Comfortable clothes. Long sleeves. Boots that laced tight enough to feel secure. When I caught my reflection in the mirror, I looked like someone who had slept. That was progress, apparently.
Downstairs, the dining room was louder than usual. Plates clinked. Someone laughed. My brother sat at the table with Grandpa, leaning back in his chair like he belonged there.
He looked up when he saw me.
“Morning,” he said easily.
“Morning,” I replied, taking the seat across from him.
Grandma slid a plate in front of me. “Eat.”
I picked at the food at first, then realized my hands were shaking slightly. I wrapped them around my mug instead.
“You sleep?” my brother asked.
“Yes.”
He studied me for a second longer than necessary. “You sure?”
I shrugged. “As sure as anyone can be.”
Grandpa folded his paper. “Training today.”
“Yes,” I said again.
“You don’t have to push,” Grandma added.
“I know.”
But I would.
After breakfast, Daniel found me by the front steps. He looked the same as always. Calm. Focused. Like nothing complicated had ever happened to him in his life.
“Ready?” he asked.
“Yes.”
He started walking and I followed.
The path to the training field felt shorter than it used to, or maybe I was just more aware of where my feet landed. We walked in silence for a while before he spoke again.
“You don’t have to perform,” he said. “Just show up.”
“I can do that.”
“Good.”
That was it. No encouragement speech. No warnings. I appreciated that more than he probably realized.
The field was already busy. Warriors stretched, sparred, corrected each other. The sounds of movement and instruction filled the air.
My chest tightened.
I kept walking.
Daniel stopped near the edge. “We’ll start simple.”
“Okay.”
He demonstrated a basic stance. I copied it. My balance wobbled but I corrected it quickly.
“Again,” he said.
I did it again.
And again.
The movements were familiar in a way that made my stomach twist. Not because they were new, but because they reminded me of things I had learned before, back when learning had come with laughter that wasn’t kind.
“Emily,” Daniel said quietly.
I blinked. “Sorry.”
“You drifted.”
“I’m here.”
He nodded. “Good. Try again.”
As I moved, something brushed against my thoughts. Not a voice. Not a memory exactly. More like a tug, gentle but persistent.
My wolf shifted.
I stumbled, catching myself before I fell.
Daniel didn’t say anything , he just waited for me to regain my balance.
“I’m fine,” I said.
“I didn’t say you weren’t.” He shrugged
That made me exhale. Daniel was acting different. Did I break him?
We continued the repetitive motions slowly.
By the time training ended, sweat clung to my skin and my arms ached in a way that felt earned. Not punished.
As I walked back toward the mansion later, the world felt slightly off. Not wrong. Just thinner. Like something was pressing against the edge of my awareness.
That night, the dream returned.
This time, I was running.
Not away from anything. Not toward anything either. Just moving terrified, through the forest, feeling the ground under me, feeling strength that didn’t feel borrowed.
One thing was sure though, it was the forest behind my grandparents house.
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