Chapter 15 – Was moving here a mistake?

Lycan tore through the trees, his powerful body slicing through branches and underbrush. The air crackled with raw energy as he sprinted toward the forest's edge. I thought he'd keep going and vanish completely, but then he stopped—suddenly, as if yanked back by some invisible chain. He turned, his eyes locking onto mine.

Time stretched, each second heavy with unspoken words. His gaze burned with a sorrow so deep it made my chest tighten. It was as though he wanted to stay, to tell me something, but couldn't. Duty or protective instinct was pulling him away. One last look, and then he was gone, swallowed by the darkness.

Beside me, Ethan stood stiff, his jaw clenched so hard I thought his teeth might shatter. For once, he was quiet, but the tension radiating off him was suffocating. I could feel it buzzing in the air between us.

Without a word, he placed his hands on my shoulders and steered me inside the inn. His grip was firm but not harsh—gentle, almost protective.

"Come on," he muttered, his voice low and tight. "Let's get that bite looked at."

I followed him inside, my thoughts swirling. The warmth of the inn's living room was a sharp contrast to the chaos in my head. Ethan guided me to the couch and knelt on an ottoman in front of me, rummaging through a first-aid kit.

The bite on my arm wasn't deep, but it stung like hell. Still, the pain was nothing compared to the whirlwind of emotions tangling inside me—the strange bond I felt with Lycan, the fear of the creature lurking in the woods, and now Ethan's brooding presence. I was starting to feel like the rope in a three-man tug-of-war.

He worked quickly, his fingers deft as he cleaned the wound. But his eyes kept darting up to meet mine, as if he were wrestling with something he didn't want to say.

I sighed, rolling my eyes. "Just spit it out already."

Ethan froze, the bandage in his hand. When he finally spoke, his voice was low but intense. "I don't want to tell you what to do, Quinn, but you need to stay away from that wolf."

The words hit me like a slap. "What? Why?"

Ethan's expression darkened. He slapped his thigh with one hand, his grip tightening on my arm with the other. "Are you serious right now? He hurt you! What could possibly be so 'special' about that wolf?"

"He didn't mean to hurt me!" I shot back, my voice rising. "There's something different about him, Ethan. He's not just some wild animal. He's... I don't know. He's intelligent. He looks at me like he understands things—like a person would."

Ethan's eyes blazed. "No, Quinn! He's dangerous. I don't want you being around him again."

Anger flared in my chest, hot and consuming. "I thought you said you didn't want to tell me what to do," I snapped, yanking my arm free from his grasp. I grabbed the bandage from his hand and finished wrapping it myself. "Clearly that wasn't the truth."

I stood abruptly, ignoring the sharp pain in my ankle. That walk with Lycan had been a terrible idea, but I was sick of this damn boot slowing me down. I stormed toward the stairs, my heart pounding with fury.

Ethan's footsteps followed close behind. "Where are you going?" he demanded, his voice tinged with desperation.

"To pack," I muttered without looking back. "I don't have time for this pointless conversation."

His silence was deafening, but I could feel his eyes burning into my back as I ascended the stairs. My emotions were a storm—rage, confusion, and something else I couldn't quite name. Why was I so angry? Why did Ethan's demand to stay away from Lycan cut so deep?

It wasn't like I could just call Lycan up and invite him over for coffee. Hell, I was moving thirty minutes away. The chances of seeing him again were slim to none. And yet, the thought of never seeing him again made my chest ache.

I threw clothes into my suitcase with reckless abandon, trying to shake the heavy weight pressing on my heart. It didn't make sense—none of it did. Why was I so emotionally tied to a wolf? A creature I barely knew?

The realization hit me like a punch to the gut: I was grieving something I never really had. My soul felt raw, like some invisible force was tearing it apart.

Ethan's voice echoed in my mind. And then there was the figure stalking the woods, claiming I was his. It was all too much.

I paused, staring at the half-packed suitcase. My family and I had moved here for a fresh start, a chance to escape the chaos of our past. But all I'd found were more questions, more mysteries, and a wolf who had somehow embedded himself in my heart.

A shudder raced down my spine, and for the briefest second, I saw it—a shadowy figure lurking just beyond the window. My breath caught in my throat. Heart racing, I spun around and rushed to the window, my hands trembling.

Nothing. Just the woods, silent and still, as if mocking me.

My pulse thundered in my ears. Every day it was the same—shadows creeping at the edges of my vision, real or imagined. My life had become a nightmare I couldn't wake up from.

I stumbled back from the window, my legs weak. Was moving here a mistake? Maybe once I finished this last year of high school, I could leave and find a place far away from the drama, the secrets, and the shadows.

And yet, something inside me whispered that I couldn't leave. Not yet.

And yet, something inside me whispered that I couldn't leave. Not yet. Not until I figured out what the hell was really going on. Was moving here really a good idea in the first place?