The fog shifted.
Not drifted.
Not thinned.
It parted—slowly, deliberately—like something pushing through it from the other side.
Seraphina's fingers curled into the fabric of Kaelen's hoodie behind her back, gripping it before she realized she'd moved. His body was rigid, every muscle coiled tight, as though he were holding himself back from something instinctive and violent.
The growl came again.
Closer.
Lower.
It vibrated through the ground beneath their feet, a sound that didn't just reach her ears but settled into her chest, rattling her ribs. Her breath turned shallow, her thoughts scattering as panic clawed its way up her throat.
Don't run, she told herself.
But every nerve in her body screamed to do exactly that.
"Kaelen," she whispered, barely trusting her voice. "What is that?"
He didn't answer right away.
His gaze stayed locked on the fog-shrouded tree line, eyes narrowed, jaw clenched so tight she thought his teeth might crack. Slowly, deliberately, he shifted his stance—placing himself more fully in front of her.
"Whatever happens," he said quietly, "you do exactly what I say."
Her heart stuttered. "You said that before."
"I'm serious now."
Something snapped in the fog.
A heavy step.
Then another.
The shadows warped as a shape began to take form—tall, hunched, its outline wrong in ways her mind struggled to process. It moved with a predator's patience, unhurried and confident, like it knew there was nowhere for them to go.
Seraphina swallowed hard. "You're not answering me."
Kaelen finally spoke, his voice low and controlled.
"Because if I name it," he said, "you'll panic."
Her fingers tightened in his hoodie. "I'm already panicking."
His jaw flexed.
"Then don't let it smell that."
The thing in the fog shifted again.
Closer.
The smell hit her next—damp earth, iron, something sharp and animal that burned the back of her throat. Her stomach twisted violently, instinct screaming danger louder than thought ever could.
She fought the urge to gag.
"Kaelen," she whispered again. "Please."
The silence stretched, taut as a wire.
Then he said it.
"Werewolf."
The word hit harder than she expected.
Her mind rejected it instantly—too impossible, too absurd—until the shadow moved again, and she saw the glint of something pale and curved through the fog.
Teeth.
Her breath caught in her chest.
"That's not—" she started.
"Not the kind you're thinking of," Kaelen cut in. "Not the stories. Not the movies."
The growl deepened, rumbling with irritation.
"This one's hunting," he added.
The fog tore open.
It stepped forward.
The creature was massive—easily taller than Kaelen, its body broad and corded with muscle beneath coarse, dark fur. Its limbs bent at angles that made her bones ache just looking at them, joints built for speed and violence. Yellow eyes burned from a wolfish face twisted with something unsettlingly intelligent.
It wasn't mindless.
It was assessing.
Seraphina's knees nearly buckled.
The werewolf's nostrils flared. Its head tilted slightly, eyes locking onto her with terrifying precision.
Kaelen swore under his breath.
"It smells you," he said.
"Why?" Her voice came out thin, fragile.
Before he could answer, the creature took another step forward.
Kaelen moved.
He shoved Seraphina back behind him and raised his hands—not in surrender, but in warning.
"Enough," he said sharply.
The werewolf froze.
For a heartbeat, the world seemed to hold still.
Then it laughed.
Not a sound—an expression. A baring of teeth that was far too deliberate to be animal.
Kaelen's shoulders tensed.
"This is protected ground," he continued, voice hard. "You're crossing a line."
The werewolf's lips peeled back further, a low rumble vibrating its chest.
"Lines are fading," it said.
The voice was wrong—rough and distorted, but unmistakably human beneath the growl.
Seraphina's blood ran cold.
"You should leave," Kaelen said.
The creature's gaze flicked to Seraphina again.
"No," it replied. "I don't think I will."
It lunged.
Everything exploded into motion.
Kaelen spun, grabbing Seraphina's wrist and yanking her aside just as claws slashed through the space where she'd been standing. The air whistled violently, the force of the strike snapping the iron railing of the clock tower like brittle twigs.
Metal screamed.
Seraphina stumbled, barely keeping her footing as Kaelen shoved her behind a stone pillar.
"Stay," he barked.
"I'm not—"
"Stay!"
The werewolf landed heavily, claws gouging deep grooves into the stone pavement. It turned, eyes blazing, muscles bunching as it prepared to spring again.
Kaelen moved faster than she thought possible.
One second he was in front of her—the next, he was on the creature, slamming into it with bone-crushing force. They collided in a blur of motion, rolling across the ground, snarls and curses tearing from both throats.
Seraphina pressed herself against the pillar, heart hammering so hard she thought she might black out.
This wasn't a fight.
It was a reckoning.
The werewolf threw Kaelen off with brutal strength, sending him skidding across the pavement. He rolled to his feet instantly, breathing hard, eyes blazing with something feral of his own.
For the first time, she saw it.
The restraint.
The monster he'd been holding back.
"You shouldn't have come tonight," Kaelen growled.
The werewolf laughed again, circling him.
"She doesn't belong here," it said, eyes flicking to Seraphina. "And neither do you."
Kaelen's gaze hardened.
"She belongs more than you know."
The creature paused.
Slowly, its head tilted.
"Ah," it murmured. "So it's true."
Seraphina's stomach dropped.
"True what?" she demanded, fear sharpening into anger.
Both of them looked at her.
Kaelen's expression shifted—just for a second—but it was enough.
Regret.
The werewolf smiled.
"The eclipse is closer than we thought," it said softly. "And the girl smells like destiny."
Kaelen swore violently and lunged again.
But the creature didn't stay to fight.
It leapt backward, retreating into the fog with impossible speed. The mist swallowed its massive form in seconds, leaving behind claw marks, shattered stone, and a silence that rang louder than the growls ever had.
The fog slowly began to thin.
Kaelen stood frozen, chest heaving.
Seraphina stepped forward shakily. "Kaelen… what did it mean?"
He turned to her, eyes dark and haunted.
"It meant," he said, voice rough, "that Emberfall just lost its protection."
Her heart sank.
"And me?"
His jaw tightened.
"You," he said quietly, "just became the reason every creature in these woods is going to start paying attention."
The clock tower chimed again.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
Somewhere deep in the forest, something howled in answer.