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Elena's POV
Morning came too quickly. A faint gray light seeped through the thin curtains, softening the rough edges of the small cabin. Elena woke with a start, the echoes of snarling wolves and Caleb's haunting gaze still lingering in her dreams. Her heart thudded dully in her chest as she blinked at her surroundings, disoriented by the quiet.
The smell of coffee pulled her attention. A steaming mug sat on the small wooden table beside the fireplace, the warmth still clinging to it. Caleb wasn't in the room, but he must have left it for her—his presence lingered like a whisper in the air, reassuring but distant.
Swinging her legs off the cot, Elena winced as the cool wooden floor met her bare feet. She rubbed her temples, the events of last night unraveling in her mind like a frayed ribbon. Wolves in the woods. Caleb shielding her. His words echoing:
"Knowing the truth will change everything."
Her curiosity felt like a weight pressing against her chest, mingling with unease. She didn't know what Caleb was hiding, but she knew one thing for certain: she wouldn't find answers by sitting around.
Wrapping the blanket around her shoulders, she padded over to the table and picked up the mug, inhaling the rich, earthy scent. She sipped the coffee carefully, letting the warmth chase away the last remnants of her nightmares.
The cabin door creaked open suddenly, startling her.
Caleb stepped inside, his tall frame filling the doorway. He carried an armful of firewood, his dark hair damp from the misty morning air. He glanced at her briefly, his expression unreadable.
"You're up," he said.
Elena nodded, cradling the mug. "Morning."
Caleb set the logs by the hearth, straightening to meet her gaze. "Did you sleep?"
"Barely." She hesitated, searching his face. "You?"
"Don't worry about me."
It was a classic Caleb deflection, one she was growing increasingly tired of. She didn't press, though—not yet. Instead, she watched him as he moved to stoke the dying embers of the fire. The lines of his shoulders were tense, as if he carried a weight too heavy to share.
"I'm going back to town today," she said suddenly.
Caleb froze, the poker stilling in his hand. "Why?"
"Because I need to do something normal for once. I need to talk to people, ask questions…" She trailed off, carefully watching his reaction. "I can't keep pretending nothing is happening, Caleb."
He looked at her then, his gaze sharp. "It's not safe."
"Nowhere feels safe," she replied, lifting her chin. "Not when I don't know what I'm up against."
Caleb sighed, setting the poker down with a clatter. "You're not up against anything. I told you, I'll handle it."
His words were meant to reassure her, but they only made her feel like a child being placated. "You can't handle it alone," she said quietly. "And I don't want to be kept in the dark anymore."
For a moment, neither of them spoke. Caleb's jaw tightened as he regarded her, his dark eyes unreadable. Finally, he turned away, running a hand through his hair.
"I'll walk you to town," he said, his voice gruff.
"Caleb, you don't have to—"
"I'll walk you to town," he repeated firmly, leaving no room for argument.
Elena sighed, but she didn't fight him. She knew it was pointless.
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The walk through the woods was quiet, the silence broken only by the crunch of leaves beneath their feet and the occasional call of birds hidden among the branches. The forest felt different in the daylight—less sinister, though no less alive. Shadows danced across the path, the towering trees swaying gently in the breeze.
Elena glanced at Caleb, who walked a step ahead of her, his gaze constantly sweeping their surroundings. Even in the daylight, he seemed on edge, his movements purposeful and protective.
"Were you always this paranoid?" she asked, attempting to lighten the mood.
Caleb shot her a sidelong glance. "It's not paranoia if the danger is real."
"Fair point," she muttered.
A short while later, the edge of the forest came into view, and the gravel path leading to Blackwood Hollow opened up before them. The small town was still waking up, smoke rising from chimneys, and a few shopkeepers propped open their doors to let in the morning air.
As they stepped out of the trees, Caleb's posture shifted, his expression hardening like a mask slipping into place. Elena noticed how the few townsfolk nearby cast him wary glances before quickly looking away.
"Why does everyone act so weird around you?" she asked.
Caleb's expression didn't change. "They don't trust me."
"Why not?"
He didn't answer.
"Is it because of last night? Or… is there more to it?"
Caleb stopped walking and turned to face her. "Elena, there are things about this town—about me—that you don't understand yet. Asking too many questions is only going to put you in more danger."
"And not asking questions is driving me insane," she shot back. "I deserve answers, Caleb. If I'm in danger, I need to know why."
Caleb stared at her, his jaw working as if he were fighting to keep his words in. Finally, he exhaled sharply, looking away. "Just… be careful who you trust, okay?"
Elena frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"
Before Caleb could answer, a familiar voice called her name.
"Elena!"
She turned to see Mrs. Hartwell, the elderly owner of the town's general store, waving her over from across the street. Elena hesitated, glancing at Caleb, but he nodded stiffly.
"Go ahead. I'll wait here."
She didn't argue. Crossing the street, she greeted Mrs. Hartwell, whose kind smile was a welcome sight after the chaos of the past few days.
"My dear, you look pale as a ghost," Mrs. Hartwell said, concern in her voice. "Is everything all right?"
"I'm fine," Elena lied, forcing a small smile. "It's just been a long couple of days."
Mrs. Hartwell's sharp eyes seemed to see right through her, but she didn't press. "I've been meaning to ask—have you heard any strange noises out by the woods at night?"
Elena's heart skipped a beat. "Why do you ask?"
"Well, my nephew said he heard howling the other night—closer to town than usual. Gave him quite a fright."
Elena swallowed hard. "Wolves, probably."
Mrs. Hartwell's expression darkened. "Perhaps. But wolves aren't the only things that haunt these woods, dear."
Elena blinked. "What do you mean?"
The older woman glanced around, lowering her voice. "You'd best be careful, Elena. Blackwood Hollow has always been… unusual. Things have a way of happening to outsiders who dig too deep."
Elena's stomach twisted. "What kind of things?"
Mrs. Hartwell opened her mouth to respond, but a sharp sound—like a growl—echoed faintly from the woods behind her. Both women froze, turning toward the sound. The forest line stood silent, unmoving, but Elena swore she saw a shadow shift between the trees.
Caleb was already moving toward her, his expression set in stone.
"Elena," he said quietly, placing himself between her and the woods. "It's time to go."
Mrs. Hartwell's gaze lingered on the trees for a moment before she turned back to Elena. "Be careful, dear. The forest keeps its secrets—and not all of them are friendly."
Elena nodded, her pulse quickening. Caleb's hand gently grasped her elbow, guiding her away. As they walked back toward the path, Elena glanced over her shoulder, the weight of Mrs. Hartwell's warning settling heavily in her chest.
The forest loomed in the distance, dark and unyielding.
And somewhere in those shadows, the truth waited—whispering, waiting to be found.
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