The Attack

The wind howled through the trees as Elara ran, the darkness around her thick and wild. Her breath tore through her throat, burning with panic, her legs numb with fear. Behind her, something snarled. Not human. Not an animal. Something in between. She didn’t dare look back. The forest behind the school stretched like a living thing—old roots, twisted limbs, and shadows that clung to her every step. She’d taken a shortcut, stupidly thinking she could avoid Garrett’s taunts and the whispers that clung to her like her hoodie. But this wasn’t a shortcut.

This was a trap.

The person from the forest came out of nowhere. A flash of amber eyes, a hiss that sounded like metal tearing flesh.

Elara screamed and stumbled backwards, landing hard against the cold earth. Her shoulder slammed into a tree trunk. Pain shot through her. The figure was tall, cloaked in ragged black, its limbs too long, its fingers clawed. The thing hissed again and leaped.

And the mark on her shoulder lit up. It pulsed with searing heat, and the creature screamed—not in anger, but in pain. It reeled back, clawing at its face like it had been burned.

But by the time she could run somewhere else, two more emerged.

Elara scrambled to her feet and ran, her shoes slipping in the wet leaves. Branches whipped at her arms and face. Her breath came in ragged gasps. Something caught her hood, yanked her backwards—she spun and slammed her elbow into a face that felt like stone.

It didn’t flinch.

It raised a hand, claws gleaming—

—and then it was gone.

Torn away in a blur of silver.

Elara blinked. Another figure was in front of her now. Broad-shouldered, moving like a shadow with blades in both hands. One attacker lunged; the silver-eyed man met it midair.

A crack of bone. A gurgle. Silence.

Then the second came from behind. Elara cried out—

—but the man twisted, flipped the blade in his grip, and drove it clean into the creature’s chest.

Everything was still.

The forest held its breath.

Elara stared, panting, heart pounding like a drum inside her chest. The man turned slowly. His eyes—bright silver, impossibly calm—met hers.

“You’re not safe here,” he said.

“Who what, what were those?” she asked.

Don't you see that! Person stated.

“They were hunting you,” he said. “Because you’ve awakened.”

She blinked. “Awakened?” What the hell are you talking about?

He took a step closer. “Your mark lit up. That means they can smell you now. More will come and hunt you down.”

She backed away. “Stay away from me.”

“If I wanted to harm you,” he said flatly, “you’d be dead.”

Elara faltered.

Then he told her, “My name is Kael Thorne,” he said. “I’ve been looking for you for a long time.”

She frowned, still trembling. “Why?”

He said, “Because your mother died to keep you hidden,”

He said, “And it’s time you knew who you are.”

Elara should’ve run. Should’ve screamed.

But that whisper inside her, the same one from the dream, said: Trust him.

Kael extended his hand towards her, “They won’t stop, Elara. Not until you’re dead… or you go with them.”

The forest behind her crackled.

Kael said let's hurry, more are coming. I can't handle them all.

Elara reached for his hand. And the moment she touched him, everything changed.

She felt something deeper from inside, like a voice.