Lucian Blackthorn
I crossed the boundary line of the woods before the sun rose.
Blood clung to my hands. Not mine.
Not hers.
But close.
The rogue left a warning last night after our fight. Ripped apart a deer and dragged its body to the school gates. Not just instinct — a message.
He wants Evelyn.
And he's telling me I can't protect her.
My alpha blood demands I end this now — end him — but there's one problem.
I can't keep Evelyn away. And if she sees what's coming, if she finds out the truth before I'm ready to give it to her, she'll run.
Or worse — she'll stay.
I crouched by the deer's corpse. The smell of rot and copper was heavy in the air, but beneath it, I smelled something more dangerous.
Her perfume.
Faint. Like she passed by.
He's following her again.
I let out a low growl, barely human. The shift crept under my skin — my hands twitched, bones crackling. I fought it down. I had to stay human.
At least until I saw her again.
I had to warn her.
Even if she hated me for it.
⸻
Evelyn Moore
I didn't sleep.
Lucian didn't explain what I saw last night — the fight, the glowing eyes, the growl that sounded like it belonged in a nightmare.
And worst of all… I wasn't scared.
I wanted to see him again.
Even after what I saw.
Even after that… thing.
God, what's wrong with me?
By morning, I had made up my mind: I needed answers. No more waiting for him to appear in the woods like some broody, hot ghost. If he wouldn't talk — I'd find out the truth myself.
I skipped class and went straight to the local library — the dusty, old part no one ever touched. The archives.
The town was small. Old. The kind of place that looked normal but had secrets buried under every tree root and church stone.
I searched:
• "Wolves in Blackwater."
• "Unsolved attacks."
• "Disappearing people."
One article caught my eye:
**1996: Local woman mauled near the forest — no tracks, no witnesses. Victim claimed 'a man with golden eyes' attacked her. Case closed as 'wild animal.'"
Golden eyes.
Another clipping mentioned a fire. The Blackthorn family estate, burned down fifteen years ago. Two survived.
A boy.
And a girl.
No names listed.
I stared at the photo. The ruins were charred, but something about them felt familiar.
That name. Blackthorn.
Lucian.
Why is he still here?
Before I could think, my phone buzzed.
Lucian: Meet me. Behind the chapel. Now.
⸻
Behind the Chapel – 5:19 PM
He was already there when I arrived. Hood up. Hands shoved into his pockets. And somehow, even standing still, he looked wild.
"I know you've been looking into things," he said without turning around.
"You left out a few details," I replied coldly.
He turned. His eyes weren't glowing now, but they still didn't look… human. Not completely.
"You shouldn't be alone," he said.
"I'm not scared of you."
"You should be."
That silenced me.
He took a step forward, lowering his voice. "There's something hunting in these woods. A rogue. He doesn't care about rules. Or mercy. He kills for sport."
"And you?" I whispered. "What do you kill for?"
He paused.
"I fight what I am every day. But him?" His jaw clenched. "He enjoys being the monster."
I stepped closer. "So which one are you?"
Our faces were inches apart. I could see the scar along his neck, like he'd once been bitten — or marked. I reached up to touch it.
He flinched. Just barely. Then let me.
His voice dropped.
"I don't want to hurt you, Evelyn."
The way he said my name made something twist in my stomach.
"Then don't," I said softly.
We stood there, tangled in silence, until a sound shattered the moment — a howl.
Far off. Cold. And not his.
His eyes went gold again. His hands curled like claws.
"He's coming."