Music that helped write this story
Defences-Gravity
Black out the sun- Almost heaven
Safehouse - Kami Kehoe x Ekoh
Poem of a killer - We are fury
As long as it takes - written by wolves
Lights - Burden of the sky
Atreyu - exs and ohs
The plot in you - feel nothing
bullet for my valentine - dont need you
bullet for my valentine - venom
bullet for my valentine- your betrayal
Apashe x YMIR - Never change
Beg for me - Braeker
Prologue
The first thing I hear is the ocean.
Not the lazy, postcard waves that sigh into sand. No—this is Ireland's version, brutal and black, hammering the cliffs like it's trying to rewrite the coast itself. I wake to it every night. Sometimes it sounds like Travis's laughter. Sometimes like Matrix's growl. Both are ghosts that don't know how to stay dead.
The second thing I notice is the silence where Sammi and Jay used to be.
Their absence is louder than any hunt. I make coffee in a chipped mug and pretend I don't expect them to walk through the door, dripping rain, tossing sarcasm. They're wolves on their own roads now, and I am left with their echoes—one sharp, one steady.
I've been here a month. Long enough for the streets to stop feeling foreign, short enough that I still flinch when I hear boots behind me. My name isn't Silver on paper anymore. It's a stranger's name that buys groceries and signs leases. But when I look in the mirror, I see the vampire who ran under floodlights, the girl who kissed death and lived to regret it.
Travis's notebook sits open on the table. The last page I read before sleep said: Make choices before choices make you. He would've laughed at how bad I am at following instructions. He would've told me to stop staring out the window like the shadows owed me answers.
Because the shadows do watch.
Every night, just as the sea begins its sermon, I feel it: that cold pressure on the back of my neck. The scrape of a presence that isn't human. On rooftops. In alleyways. Sometimes a scent in the wind, sharp and wrong. I know what it means. He crossed the ocean. He found me.
Matrix.
The man I mistook for salvation. The wolf who turned love into a leash. The abuser who swore I'd never run far enough.
I did. I crossed continents. I bled and fought and begged the sky for a new start.
And yet, when I close my eyes, I see him on the rooftop opposite my window, crouched in moonlight, his eyes catching the night like knives. He doesn't howl. He waits.
And that's the worst part.
He knows patience now.