The forest had always been alive with whispers at night, but tonight, Ava felt them more strongly than ever. The cicadas sang their endless chorus, leaves stirred in restless breezes, and the distant hoot of an owl carried across the trees. Yet beneath those familiar sounds was something else—something that made the hair on the back of her neck rise.
Her boots crunched softly on the leaf-strewn path. She shouldn't have been here; she knew that. Her parents had warned her enough times. Everyone in town had. Don't go into the woods after dark. They said the shadows carried more than animals, that creatures older than memory lived between the trees. Ava had grown up laughing at such warnings. She was seventeen, stubborn, and restless. Yet tonight, she hadn't been able to ignore the strange tug in her chest—the feeling that something was calling her.
She stopped, hugging her jacket close. The air was colder than she expected, the kind of chill that slipped beneath the skin and sank into the bones. Her breath fogged in front of her lips, white clouds that vanished as quickly as they formed.
Then she heard it.
Not the rustle of a squirrel, not the crack of a branch under deer hooves. This was deeper, rawer. A low sound—half growl, half sigh—that rolled through the night like thunder smothered in velvet.
Her heart skipped. She turned, scanning the trees, but the shadows were thick and unbroken.
And then, two eyes appeared.
They burned golden in the darkness, so bright they seemed to pierce straight through her. Ava's breath caught. Every nerve screamed at her to run, but she couldn't. Her body rooted itself to the earth as if her feet had sunk into stone. Those eyes held her prisoner. They weren't the eyes of a wild animal. They were… knowing.
The figure stepped forward, breaking free from the shadows. He was tall, impossibly so, his shoulders broad beneath a dark shirt that clung to him like a second skin. His hair was disheveled, falling across his forehead, but nothing could dull the raw sharpness of his face. He moved with quiet strength, like a predator who could crush or protect with equal ease.
"You shouldn't be here," his voice rumbled, low and dangerous, yet smoother than silk.
Ava's lips parted, but no sound came out at first. She swallowed, her pulse racing. "I—I was just walking," she finally managed.
His head tilted slightly, eyes narrowing. "Walking here, in the dead of night? Do you have no sense of danger?"
A flush crept across her cheeks. She wanted to defend herself, to say she wasn't afraid, but that would have been a lie. Her voice trembled. "I didn't mean to… disturb you."
Something flickered in his expression—something softer, almost regretful—but it was gone in an instant. He stepped closer, and Ava instinctively took a step back, her heel catching on a root. She wobbled but didn't fall.
The air between them thickened. She could feel him—his warmth, his presence—like a storm pressing against her skin.
"You're not… human, are you?" The words slipped out before she could stop them.
His lips curved, not quite a smile, not quite a snarl. "I am both," he said quietly, "and neither."
Her stomach flipped. She wanted to believe she was dreaming, that this was just some trick of the night. But her instincts screamed otherwise. She had always laughed at her grandmother's stories of men who turned into wolves, of creatures bound by moonlight and blood. Yet here he was—living proof that those tales were not just tales.
"Then what are you?" she whispered.
His gaze burned hotter. "Danger."
Ava should have run. She should have turned on her heel and sprinted back down the path, never looking over her shoulder. But she didn't. She couldn't. Something inside her—something deep and unexplainable—pulled her closer instead of pushing her away. She felt tethered, as though an invisible thread connected her chest to his.
"Who are you?" she asked, softer now, almost afraid of the answer.
He hesitated, his jaw tightening, before finally speaking. "My name is Kael."
The name curled in her mind like smoke, haunting and unforgettable.
Before she could ask more, a howl split the air. It was long, mournful, and filled with raw power. Ava's stomach turned to ice. She had heard wolves before, but this was nothing like that. This was bigger, more terrifying, more alive.
Kael's head snapped up, his golden eyes flashing with urgency. "They're close."
"They?" Ava echoed, her voice breaking.