Chapter 5: Between the Watchers
The fire sputtered low, casting weak shadows that danced across the bookstore walls. Clara had pulled every curtain shut, but the storm still found ways to press itself inside—howling through cracks, rattling the panes, whispering at the edges of her nerves. Jonah sat at the table near the door, a mug of untouched coffee steaming in front of him, his ranger's jacket still damp from snow.
He'd been talking for twenty minutes straight, trying to distract her, or himself, or both.
"Thing is, most folks here don't want to admit how weird this town really is. They'll talk about wolves or weather, but ask about the disappearances? Suddenly it's like nobody can hear you. My theory? They know more than they're letting on."
Clara, curled in the armchair with a blanket, tried to focus on his words. But her mind kept drifting to the shadow she'd seen at the window. Those glowing eyes burned in her memory.
"And the way it followed me," Jonah continued, lowering his voice dramatically, "fast, but not running—gliding almost. Like it wanted me to know it was there." He shuddered and gulped the coffee at last. "Nope. Don't like it. Not one bit."
"Jonah," Clara interrupted gently, "if you're trying to calm me down, it's not working."
He blinked, then laughed awkwardly. "Right, right. Sorry. Not exactly bedtime-story material." He rubbed the back of his neck. "But hey, at least you're not alone, right?"
Clara offered a faint smile. "I appreciate that."
Jonah grinned, pleased, but his expression faltered when a knock came at the door.
Both of them froze.
It wasn't the storm's roar, or the branches scratching. It was a knock. Three sharp raps.
Again.
Clara's blood turned to ice. Jonah leapt to his feet, pulling a flashlight from his belt. "Stay here."
"No—" Clara started, but he was already unbolting the door. He yanked it open, beam ready.
Elias stood on the threshold, snow swirling behind him. His coat hung heavy with frost, his expression grim.
Jonah lowered the light, scowling. "You've got a real knack for showing up when people least want you to."
Elias ignored him. His eyes found Clara, steady and intense. "You let him stay here tonight?"
Clara bristled. "Excuse me?"
"It isn't safe." Elias stepped inside without asking, closing the door against the storm. "The thing that's stalking this town—it's getting bolder. You shouldn't trust just anyone to protect you."
Jonah squared his shoulders. "Oh, thanks for the lecture, stranger. I'm the ranger here, in case you forgot. Protecting people is literally my job."
"You think a flashlight and a badge will stop what's out there?" Elias's voice was low, sharp. "You have no idea what you're dealing with."
Jonah took a step forward, fists clenched. "And you do?"
The air between them tightened, heavy with something unspoken. Clara stood quickly, holding up her hands. "Enough! I don't care who's tougher. I care about not being eaten alive tonight."
That silenced them, if only for a moment. Elias turned away, pacing to the window, staring out at the snow-swept street.
"It's hunting closer," he said quietly. "It knows this place is new to you. It knows you don't belong here."
Clara swallowed hard. "You keep saying 'it.' What is it, Elias?"
His jaw flexed. For a moment, she thought he wouldn't answer. Then he spoke, voice like stone breaking.
"A werewolf."
Jonah laughed, too loudly. "Oh, come on. That's—"
But the sound died when Elias turned, his eyes sharp as blades. "You've seen the tracks. You've heard the howls. What do you think it is?"
The room fell silent. The fire popped in the grate. Clara's heart pounded.
Finally, Jonah muttered, "Even if that's true, we don't have proof."
Elias's gaze slid back to Clara. "Proof won't matter when it's at your door."
Her breath caught. She wanted to demand more, but Elias looked away again, as if he'd already said too much.
---
The hours crawled. Jonah dozed in the chair, snoring softly, while Clara sat awake, staring into the fire. Elias remained by the window, silent, watchful, a dark silhouette against the snow's glow.
She should have felt safer with both of them there. But instead, unease gnawed at her. Not just from the storm or the memory of glowing eyes, but from Elias himself. He carried the weight of too many secrets.
Finally, she couldn't stand it. She rose, wrapping the blanket tighter, and crossed the room to him.
"You knew before you came tonight," she whispered. "About the werewolf."
Elias didn't look at her. "Yes."
"Why?"
At last, his gaze shifted to hers, gray and endless. "Because I've hunted it before."
Her breath caught. "You—what?"
"This isn't the first town it's stalked," he said softly. "And it won't be the last, unless someone stops it."
The way he said it sent shivers down her spine. "So you're some kind of monster hunter now?"
He didn't answer, not directly. Instead, he asked, "When you looked out your window last night—what did you see?"
Clara's mouth went dry. She thought of the eyes, burning like coals in the snow. "A shadow. Watching me."
Elias's jaw tightened. "Then it's chosen you."
Her chest squeezed. "Chosen me for what?"
But before he could reply, a howl shattered the night.
Not distant this time. Not muffled.
It came from just beyond the door.
Jonah jerked awake, nearly toppling the chair. "What the—"
The howl rose again, so loud the glass trembled in the windows. Clara's blood went cold. Elias moved like lightning, yanking the curtains wider.
For an instant, Clara saw it.
A figure in the snow, massive and hunched, fur bristling, eyes burning red. Too big to be a wolf, too twisted to be a man.
Then it was gone, swallowed by the storm.
Clara's scream died in her throat. Jonah cursed under his breath, fumbling for his flashlight.
Elias turned from the window, his face pale but steady. "It knows where you are now. It won't stop."
Clara trembled. "What do we do?"
His eyes locked onto hers, fierce and unyielding. "We survive. Together."
And though terror knifed through her, something else bloomed too—an undeniable pull toward the man who carried both danger and protection in his shadow.
The storm roared. The werewolf howled again, closer.
And Clara knew the night had only begun.