Chapter 2 Whispers in the Woods

Elara's POV

The call came like a breath on my skin. A hush of wind that slipped through the trees, carrying a whisper that did not belong to any living soul. I should have turned back. Any sensible person would have bolted toward the safety of the village, but something in that whisper beckoned. It curled through me like smoke, pulling me deeper into the forest that everyone feared to speak of.

The elders said the woods were cursed, the resting place of wolves long dead who still prowled in shadow. They warned of voices that lured wanderers into never returning. I had always kept away. Tonight was different. Tonight my feet ignored reason and obeyed instinct.

The trees leaned close, their crooked arms weaving a canopy that shut out the moonlight. My lantern's flame trembled against the press of shadows, and every crunch of leaves underfoot seemed far too loud. I clutched the shawl around my shoulders tighter, though no fabric could keep out the weight of those unseen eyes I felt trailing me.

"Who is there?" My voice cracked into the silence. The whispering stopped.

The stillness that followed was worse than the sound. The forest held its breath.

I spun, lantern raised, heart pounding hard enough to echo in my ears. That was when I saw it-two faint glimmers between the trees. Eyes. Not human. Not gentle. They gleamed with a predator's patience, watching me from a distance so thin the lantern light barely touched them.

My first thought was wolf. But no wolf stood that tall. And no wolf stared with such terrible intelligence.

I stumbled back a step, breath shuddering out. My heel caught on a root, nearly pitching me into the dirt. The light wavered wildly. The glimmers vanished.

Then a low growl rolled through the woods.

It was not close. Not yet. But it vibrated through my bones like a warning. My body screamed at me to run, but my legs locked. I had never been hunted before, but in that moment I understood prey.

The whisper came again, softer this time, brushing my ear though nothing stood near me. Elara.

My lantern slipped from my grip and hit the ground. The flame went out. Darkness swallowed me whole.

I did not scream. Fear had choked the sound away. I turned and ran blind, my breath rasping, my skirt snagging on thorns that tore at my skin. Branches clawed across my face. Behind me, the growl deepened, closer now, steady as footsteps following the beat of my racing pulse.

I burst into a clearing, the only patch of moonlight breaking through the heavy sky. My lungs burned, my chest heaved, and the world tilted beneath me. I wanted to collapse, but instinct kept me upright.

That was when I saw it.

Standing at the far edge of the clearing was a shape too broad, too upright to be an animal, yet too wild to be a man. A cloak of shadow wrapped it, shoulders carved with power, head lifted as if scenting the air. The eyes glowed again, brighter now. Silver. Wolf and man bound in one impossible frame.

My lips parted in disbelief. Stories whispered by firelight surged through me-tales of the cursed Alpha who ruled Bloodmoon Hollow, the beast who kept to the forest, feared even by his own pack. Mothers frightened children with his name. Kalen Blackthorn.

And he was here. Watching me.

I froze under his stare. Something in my chest tightened, like an invisible tether had looped around my ribs, pulling taut. His gaze locked to mine and for a heartbeat the forest disappeared. No sound, no air, no thought existed beyond the weight of those silver eyes.

Then a howl shattered the silence. It tore from him with raw fury, echoing through the woods like a call to war. Birds exploded from the trees. My knees buckled, but before I hit the ground, the shadow moved.

One blink-he was across the clearing. Another-and he stood before me. I had no chance to run.

The scent of smoke and storm wrapped around me as he leaned close, his voice low, rough, barely human. "You should not be here."

I flinched, but the tether in my chest pulled tighter, holding me still. His presence was overwhelming, both terrifying and magnetic. Every instinct screamed to flee, yet another buried instinct whispered to stay.

"What are you?" My question came out broken, more plea than demand.

His jaw clenched. He looked at me as if the answer might destroy me. Then he vanished into the shadows, gone so fast the night seemed to swallow him whole.

I was left alone in the clearing, heart hammering, breath ragged, body trembling with the weight of something I could not name.

The whisper rose one last time, faint and final. You cannot run from him.

The woods fell silent again.

But I knew nothing would ever be silent inside me now.

Elara collapses in the clearing, shaken to her core, certain she had just met the cursed Alpha himself. Yet as she staggers home, the silver of his eyes still burns in her memory, and a single truth strikes her cold-whatever tied her to him had already begun.

Elara's breath still caught in her chest as she stumbled back from the treeline. The silence pressed too heavily, as if the woods themselves waited for her next step. She clutched her lantern closer, the flame trembling with every gust that passed through the twisted branches.

Something followed her. She did not need to see it; her bones knew it. Every instinct screamed to run, but running would only draw it closer.

Her feet carried her toward the village path, heart hammering, eyes darting over her shoulder. A shape moved in the shadows-too tall, too fluid to be a wolf, yet not wholly human. The sound of its breathing reached her ears, deep and ragged, dragging across the night like claws over stone.

"Elara..."

Her name. Spoken in a whisper that seemed to rise from the very earth beneath her feet. Her grip faltered on the lantern, nearly dropping it. She turned sharply, her voice raw with fear.

"Who's there?"

No answer. Only the woods, closing in around her.

The wind shifted, carrying the scent of damp soil and iron. The presence moved closer, but when she blinked, nothing stood before her. Just shadows bending unnaturally in the moonlight.

She forced herself forward, each step heavier than the last. Her cottage was not far-just beyond the rise, through the crooked row of birches. If she could reach it, bar the door, light the fire... maybe then the suffocating weight pressing against her would lift.

Yet the woods did not release her easily. Branches scraped across her arms, catching her cloak, tugging her backward like living things. Her pulse thundered as she broke free, stumbling onto the path, the sight of her cottage flickering through the trees.

Relief rushed through her, but it lasted only a heartbeat. For just beyond the curve of her home, half-concealed in the fog, a figure stood.

Tall. Still. Watching.

Her lantern light flickered over sharp edges-broad shoulders, the suggestion of a face half-hidden in shadow. Not a villager. Not anyone she knew.

Her body froze, breath trapped in her throat.

The figure took a step forward, slow, deliberate, and the air seemed to shiver around him.

"Elara," the voice came again, low and commanding, but no longer distant.

This time, it was real.