Chapter 2 REYNA – They Say It Was an Animal

The apartment didn't feel like home without his boots by the door.

It felt too clean. Too staged. Like someone had scrubbed away the evidence that Calen ever lived here. Except they missed the drawer in the hallway - second one down, where he used to toss his receipts and tangled headphones and notes he never looked at again.

That drawer still smelled like him. Like pine soap and peppermints and something faintly electric, the way the air smells before a storm.

I didn't mean to open it. I just wanted to do something with my hands. Instead, I found the notebook.

Small. Black. Edges frayed from being shoved in pockets. No name on the front, just a deep crease down the middle. I hesitated, then opened it.

The first few pages were normal. Grocery lists. Routines. "Thursday – pick up wine." Then the handwriting shifted. Sharper. More cramped. More paranoid.

Symbols.

Circles layered inside triangles. Jagged lines that curled like hooks. One page was nothing but a spiral, drawn over and over until the paper almost tore. My fingers traced it. Something about the shape itched behind my eyes.

I flipped to the last page.

There was a drawing of a tree. Tall. Split down the middle like it had been struck by lightning. And at the base of it, a ring of fire. No caption. Just the symbol again, carved into the bark.

I'd seen that tree.

At the edge of the cemetery. Behind the shadow in the woods.

I slammed the notebook shut. My breath was too loud. My heart felt wrong in my chest - like it was skipping steps or trying to climb up my throat.

They said it was a bear.

I put the notebook down, grabbed my coat, and walked out the door.

---

I parked near the old hiking trail. No one else was there. The forest loomed like it remembered something I didn't. Cold air bit at my cheeks as I walked deeper, past the warning signs and into the quieter dark.

The sun was starting to dip. Shadows stretched longer than they should've.

I used to come here with Calen. We'd hike until our legs gave out and sit on that moss-covered log he always swore had "the best ass contour for nature's seat." I almost smiled thinking about it.

Then I saw the first tree.

The bark was scorched in a perfect spiral. Black, crisp lines like it had been branded. I reached out to touch it. The moment my fingers made contact, the wind shifted.

It wasn't normal wind.

It whispered.

Not with words, but with weight. Like it moved around me, through me, cataloging me.

I pulled my hand back.

"Don't turn around," a voice said.

I froze.

It was behind me. Male. Low. Calm in a way that made my pulse spike - not like a threat, but like something that shouldn't be that close without making a sound.

I turned anyway.

He was tall. Shadowed. Dressed in black from collar to boots, with a tattered jacket that looked like it had claw marks across the sleeve. His face was half in shadow, but I saw the scar that cut from his temple down to his jaw. Old. Pale. Like someone had tried to peel him open once.

His eyes weren't natural.

Gray, with a ring of gold burning under the surface.

He looked at me like he knew me. Like I was familiar, or maybe just expected.

"You're not supposed to be here," he said.

"I could say the same to you."

"I wasn't talking about the woods."

I didn't understand, but I didn't ask. My hands curled into fists at my sides.

"You knew Calen."

It wasn't a question. He didn't answer.

"You were at the funeral," I said. "In the trees."

He nodded once. No guilt. No fear. Like being seen wasn't a problem.

"Why?"

He took a step forward. I held my ground.

"Because the pack that killed him will come for you next," he said.

I felt the words before I understood them. "The... pack?"

"Don't pretend you haven't noticed it," he said. "The dreams. The cold. The pull."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"You do. You just haven't admitted it yet."

"I'm not like you."

He smiled - not kind. Not cruel. Just tired.

"No. But you will be."

I should've run. I should've screamed or backed away or pulled out my phone and called Jez, even if it was just to have someone hear me die. But I didn't.

I looked him in the eyes and said, "Then tell me what they are. What they did to him."

He tilted his head, eyes narrowing.

"If you want answers, you need to stop pretending the world works the way you were told."

"Then show me."

He turned and walked deeper into the trees, not looking back.

And I followed.