### **Chapter 4: Shadows at the Edge**
Dylan walked briskly down the quiet streets of his neighborhood, his hoodie pulled tight against the cool evening breeze. His mind was still tangled with everything Valen and Kieran had said. He had left the apartment to clear his head, needing space from their intense stares and cryptic warnings.
"Special," he muttered to himself, kicking a stray pebble down the pavement. "They've got to be joking. I'm about as special as plain toast."
The air felt strange tonight, though. It wasn't just the chill—something heavier seemed to press against his skin, a sensation he couldn't quite place. The streetlights above flickered faintly, as if unsure whether to stay on or give up entirely.
"Just my imagination," Dylan whispered, trying to reassure himself. He shoved his hands deeper into his hoodie pocket and quickened his pace.
As he passed a narrow alleyway, a soft rustling sound caught his attention. He paused, peering into the shadowy gap between the buildings.
"Hello?" he called, his voice wavering slightly.
No response.
"Don't be an idiot," he muttered, shaking his head and continuing down the street. But the unease lingered, curling in his chest like a coiled spring.
Suddenly, his phone buzzed in his pocket. He yanked it out, grateful for the distraction. A message from Claire lit up the screen:
**Claire:** *You alive, dummy? Answer me or I'm calling the cops.*
Dylan smiled faintly, tapping out a quick reply: *Alive. Just needed some air. Don't freak out.*
He slipped the phone back into his pocket, but the sense of being watched hadn't gone away.
"Okay," he said aloud, forcing his voice to sound calm. "This is ridiculous. Just get home. You're spooking yourself for no reason."
As he turned the corner onto his street, he froze. There, at the far end of the block, stood a figure. Tall, broad-shouldered, and still as a statue. They were too far away to make out clearly, but something about their stance set every nerve in Dylan's body on edge.
He hesitated, debating whether to keep walking or turn around.
"Dylan."
The voice was low and smooth, cutting through the night like a blade. It wasn't loud, but it was enough to make him stop in his tracks.
"How do you know my name?" he asked, his voice trembling despite his best efforts to sound brave.
The figure didn't move. "We've been watching you."
*We?* Dylan's stomach twisted. He glanced behind him, half-expecting someone else to appear. The street behind him was empty.
"Why?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
"You don't belong here," the figure said simply, stepping closer.
Dylan's heart pounded as the figure entered the light of a flickering streetlamp. The man was impossibly tall, with sharp features that seemed carved from stone. His eyes gleamed unnaturally, a strange metallic sheen that made Dylan's breath catch.
"Stay back!" Dylan shouted, taking a step away.
The man tilted his head, as if amused. "You can't run from this. From what you are."
"I don't know what you're talking about!" Dylan yelled, his voice echoing down the empty street.
The man's lips curled into a faint smile. "Oh, but you will."
Before Dylan could move, a second figure appeared behind him, seemingly out of nowhere. He spun around, stumbling back in shock.
"Don't touch him."
It was Valen. His golden eyes burned with a fierce intensity, and his entire presence seemed to radiate authority.
"Valen?" Dylan stammered, relief washing over him.
Kieran appeared a moment later, stepping out of the shadows like he'd been there all along. His usual smirk was gone, replaced by a sharp, dangerous expression. "We warned you not to wander off alone, Dylan," he said, his tone low and uncharacteristically serious.
The tall man's metallic eyes narrowed as he took in the two newcomers. "So, it's true. The guardians are here."
"Leave," Valen said coldly. "You don't belong here."
The man chuckled, the sound sending chills down Dylan's spine. "Neither does he."
Valen took a step forward, his entire frame taut with barely restrained power. "I won't say it again."
For a moment, it seemed like the man would argue, but then he stepped back into the shadows. His voice lingered, disembodied and chilling. "You can't protect him forever."
And then he was gone.
Dylan felt his knees go weak, and he sank to the ground, struggling to catch his breath.
"What the hell was that?" he demanded, looking up at Valen and Kieran.
Kieran crouched beside him, his expression softening slightly. "That's what we're protecting you from, kid."
Valen remained standing, his gaze scanning the darkness for any sign of the man's return. "You can't be out here alone anymore, Dylan. It's not safe."
Dylan's mind was spinning, his chest tight with fear and confusion. "But why me? What do they want with me?"
Valen looked down at him, his golden eyes unreadable. "That's what we need to figure out."
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