The silence that enveloped the small, secluded house was almost suffocating. Alaric stood near the door, his posture tense, as though every muscle in his body was ready to spring into action at the slightest threat. Emilia stood in the center of the room, her mind whirling with the unsettling revelations that had been dropped on her in mere hours. Werewolves. Creatures. A dark, hidden world she had never even dreamed of.
Her thoughts swirled, but one thing was clear Ashwood was not a town for the faint of heart.
"Are they here?" Emilia asked, her voice barely more than a whisper. Her pulse raced, and every creak of the old house made her jump. She wasn't sure what she feared more the wolves outside or the truths Alaric had yet to reveal.
Alaric didn't respond immediately, his gaze fixed on the window as if searching for something in the thickening shadows of twilight. Finally, he exhaled sharply, his voice low but steady. "Not yet. But they will be soon. And when they come, we need to be ready."
The fear in his voice was enough to send a chill crawling down Emilia's spine. She had never seen him so on edge, and the realization that whatever was coming was beyond her comprehension made her feel small and vulnerable. She stepped closer to him, her heart thumping in her chest.
"What do you mean by 'they'? Who exactly are these creatures?" she asked, her voice shaking despite her best efforts to stay calm.
Alaric turned to face her, his dark eyes softening for the briefest of moments before the intensity returned. "It's not just the wolves you need to be worried about. There are others here. Beasts that are not meant to exist in the human world. The wolves... they're just the beginning."
"Other... beasts?" Emilia repeated, her throat dry. "What are you talking about?"
Alaric clenched his jaw and looked away for a moment. It was clear he was struggling with something, a conflict deep within him that he couldn't or wouldn't express. The walls of the room seemed to close in, and for a moment, Emilia felt like she was suffocating.
"I'm one of them," Alaric said, his voice barely audible.
The words hung in the air, thick with gravity. Emilia's mind struggled to process what she had just heard. "You're... what?"
"I'm a werewolf, Emilia," he said quietly, stepping closer to her. "A part of the very thing that hunts this town. But there's more to it than just that. I'm not like the others. I've controlled the beast within me for years, but others can't. They're dangerous. And they want you."
The confession hit Emilia like a punch to the gut. A werewolf? The idea seemed so absurd, so impossible, and yet, as she looked into Alaric's eyes, she could see that he wasn't lying. He was telling her the truth, no matter how impossible it seemed.
"You're... a werewolf?" she whispered, her voice trembling with disbelief. "But you look so... normal."
Alaric's lips twitched into a wry smile, but it was devoid of humor. "I look normal because I keep the beast under control. But every full moon..."
He didn't finish the sentence. He didn't need to. Emilia could see the weight of the unspoken words in his eyes. The full moon. That's when the wolves would come. That's when the real danger would reveal itself.
"And the others?" she asked, trying to make sense of it all. "You said there are others. Who are they? What do they want with me?"
Alaric's gaze hardened, and he looked out the window again, his body stiff with tension. "They want control of Ashwood. They want to use the town, and the people in it, to serve their own needs. And you're in the middle of it. You're here because they want you, Emilia. I don't know why yet, but I do know they won't stop until they get you."
The words echoed in Emilia's mind, and she couldn't help but feel a sense of dread creep over her. She had known something was off about Ashwood, but now it felt like she had been thrown into the eye of a storm she didn't understand. And Alaric... Alaric was the only one who seemed to know what was happening, but even he didn't have all the answers.
"What do you mean, they want me?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. "Why would they want me?"
Alaric ran a hand through his dark hair, his face etched with frustration. "I don't know. But I have my suspicions. I've been keeping an eye on you since you arrived, Emilia. And I can tell you this much there's something different about you. Something... special."
Emilia's heart skipped a beat. "Special? What are you saying?"
Alaric hesitated, his gaze flickering over her as if he were trying to gauge whether or not to continue. Finally, he spoke, his voice barely audible. "I think you're connected to this town in ways that you don't understand. Your family, your bloodline... it's part of something ancient. Something tied to the creatures of this land. You're not just a regular human."
The shock of his words left her speechless. She stepped back, her mind racing to process what he was saying. Her family? But she didn't know anything about Ashwood or any connection to it. Her parents had never spoken of anything like this.
"You're saying my family my parents are somehow tied to all of this?" she asked, her voice shaky. "How?"
Alaric's gaze softened, but there was an unmistakable sadness in his eyes. "I don't know all the details, but I've seen the signs. Your bloodline is older than you think, Emilia. Older than anyone here realizes. And that's why you're in danger."
Her thoughts raced as the weight of his words sank in. She had lost her parents, but now it seemed like their deaths were part of a much larger, more complicated puzzle. A puzzle that involved werewolves, ancient bloodlines, and dark creatures lurking in the shadows. And somehow, she was at the center of it all.
The sudden sound of a knock at the door startled them both. Alaric's body stiffened, and he motioned for Emilia to be quiet. His eyes narrowed, and without a word, he crept silently to the window, peering out through the curtains.
Emilia's heart hammered in her chest. Who could it be? More wolves? Someone sent to take her?
Alaric held up a finger to his lips, signaling for her to remain silent. He reached for the door handle, but before he could open it, the door swung inward with a force that sent it crashing against the wall. Standing in the doorway was a figure that made Emilia's blood run cold a tall man with silver hair and eyes that gleamed with an otherworldly hunger.
"Alaric," the man growled, his voice smooth like velvet but with a venomous undertone. "We need to talk."