ELENA'S POV
I couldn't sleep. The words Lucas had said to me on the porch replayed in my head like a haunting melody, each sentence a note that refused to fade.
"Your blood carries something they need."
I tossed and turned in my bed, staring at the shadows that crept along the walls. The old house groaned in the wind, every creak and whisper making my heart race. It wasn't just paranoia—I could feel the weight of something watching, waiting, out there in the darkness.
What did he mean by "creatures" and "werewolves"? It all sounded ridiculous. But the look in his eyes when he spoke...it wasn't the look of a man telling a tale. It was the look of someone burdened by the truth.
I sat up and swung my legs over the side of the bed, my bare feet touching the cold wood floor. The house was silent, my grandmother long since gone to bed. She hadn't said a word after our confrontation earlier.
Part of me wanted to go to her room and demand answers. She clearly knew more than she was letting on, and her reaction to Lucas told me she wasn't just scared—she was terrified. But another part of me hesitated. She looked so fragile tonight, her hands trembling as she tried to steer me away from the conversation. Could I really push her like that?
I sighed and got up, pacing the small space of my room. My mind kept circling back to one question: Why me?
The idea of my blood being special, of being the reason my parents were killed, made my stomach churn. I didn't feel special. I felt ordinary, like any other twenty-two-year-old trying to figure out their life. And yet, according to Lucas, I was the key to something ancient and dangerous.
The floorboards creaked as I crossed the room to the window. I pulled back the curtain and stared out at the dark expanse of trees that surrounded the house. The forest loomed like a living thing, its branches swaying gently in the wind. Somewhere out there, Lucas had said, were creatures that didn't belong in this world. Creatures that wanted me, wanted my blood.
That thought sent shiver down my spine.
I couldn't pretend this wasn't happening anymore. The howl I'd heard the other night, the unease that followed me in the woods—it wasn't just in my head. Lucas was right about one thing: Silverwood wasn't a normal town.
But could I trust him?
That question gnawed at me. He had appeared out of nowhere, claiming to know my parents, claiming to know me. His timing felt suspicious, almost too convenient. What if he was just trying to manipulate me? What if he was part of the danger he was warning me about? Was it possible that this was their way of luring me to them?
And yet, he didn't feel like a threat. He had opportunities to hurt me, but he hadn't. Instead, he seemed desperate to protect me, even when I refused to believe him.
I clenched my fists, the frustration bubbling inside me. None of this made sense, and the more I thought about it, the angrier I became.
With a sharp exhale, I grabbed a sweater and slipped it on. The urge to escape the suffocating walls of the house was overwhelming. I needed air.
I crept downstairs, careful not to wake my grandmother. The old staircase groaned under my weight, but I moved slowly, step by step, until I reached the front door. The night was cold, the chill biting against my skin as I stepped outside.
The forest loomed ahead, dark and unwelcoming. I stayed on the porch, wrapping my arms around myself as I stared into the shadows.
"Why me?" I whispered to the night.
There was no answer, of course. Just the rustling of leaves and the distant hoot of an owl.
But then, something moved.
A shadow shifted at the edge of the trees, too large to be an animal. My breath caught, and I froze, my eyes straining to see through the darkness.
"Who's there?" I called, my voice shaky.
No response.
The shadow didn't move again, but the sensation of being watched lingered, prickling the back of my neck. My instincts screamed at me to go back inside, but I couldn't tear my gaze away from the treeline.
"Elena."
I nearly jumped out of my skin at the sound of my name. I spun around to see my grandmother standing in the doorway, her face pale and drawn.
"What are you doing out here?" She asked, her voice tight with worry.
"I needed some air." I said, trying to sound casual.
Her eyes darted to the forest, then back to me. "It's not safe out here. Come inside."
I hesitated, glancing back at the trees. The shadow was gone, if it had even been there to begin with. Reluctantly, I followed her back into the house.
Once the door was shut, she turned to me, her expression hard. "You need to stop talking to him."
"Lucas?" I asked.
"Yes." She said firmly. "He's only going to make things worse."
"Worse than what?" I shot back. "Worse than you lying to me my entire life? Worse than finding out my parents didn't die in a car accident?"
She flinched, and guilt twisted in my chest, but I didn't back down. "You need to tell me the truth, Grandma. All of it. I'm done with half-truths and secrets."
She sat down heavily in the nearest chair, her shoulders slumping. For a long moment, she didn't speak, and I thought she might refuse me again. But then she looked up, her eyes filled with a sadness I'd never seen before.
"There are things about this town," she began slowly, "that people don't talk about. Things that shouldn't exist but do. Your parents knew that, and they tried to protect you from it. They thought if they left, they could keep you safe. But Silverwood doesn't let go of its own."
"What does that mean?" I asked, my voice softer now.
She shook her head. "It means you were always going to come back here, no matter how far they ran. And now that you're here, the forest won't let you leave. That's why I have not bothered with us leaving here anymore."
I stared at her, my blood running cold. "What are you saying? That I'm trapped here?"
"I'm saying you need to be careful." She responded. "Lucas isn't the only one watching you. There are others, and they don't have your best interests at heart. But whatever it is, you have to face it here. Once and for all."
I thought of the shadow in the woods and the way the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. "What are they?"
Her lips pressed into a thin line, and she looked away. "You'll know soon enough."
The cryptic answer frustrated me, but I could see that I wasn't going to get more out of her tonight. Still, one thing was clear: Lucas's warning wasn't a lie.
As I climbed the stairs back to my room, I felt the weight of the dilemma settle over me. Lucas had told me the truth—at least, some of it. But could I really trust him to help me? And if not him, then who?
I didn't know the answers, but one thing was certain: Silverwood wasn't just a town. It was a trap, and I was right in the middle of it.
But one thing I knew was that I was not going to listen to my grandmother. I was going to speak with Lucas. If there was anyone I could get answers from, it was him.