The rain had softened to a thin mist, clinging to the city streets like a faint veil. Shyla hurried through her morning routine, brushing her hair, throwing on her coat, all while the locket pulsed softly against her chest. "Remain aware," it whispered. "He is near. Not for confrontation, but observation."
"Shy, you're taking forever!" her mother called from the kitchen. "Are you skipping breakfast again? You need to get to college."
Shyla forced a smile. "I'm coming, Mom." Her voice felt hollow even to her own ears. Every step out the door carried the weight of last night's encounter. Ash's eyes, his calm menace, the magnetic pull of his presence—she could still feel it lingering, like an imprint on the city itself.
The streets were busy, umbrellas bobbing through puddles, cars splashing rainwater. Shyla kept her hood up and the locket pressed under her shirt, its warmth steadying her. "Do not let curiosity betray caution," it warned.
She tried to focus on ordinary things: the pattern of rain across the pavement, the sound of footsteps around her, even the faint chatter of students heading to class. But every shadow felt like it could be him. Every flicker of movement made her heart jump.
Halfway to college, she paused at the crosswalk. Her eyes scanned the street instinctively, and for a heartbeat, she thought she saw him — a figure just at the edge of the mist. But when she blinked, he was gone. The locket pulsed sharply: "He is watching. Do not panic. Keep moving."
Her mother's voice echoed again, a mundane anchor: "Shy! Are you daydreaming again? You'll be late."
Shyla exhaled and forced her pace, the ordinary world pressing in around her. But Ash's presence lingered, patient, patient, as though he was always calculating the distance between them. She couldn't shake the sense that every step she took was already known to him.
By the time she reached campus, her heart had slowed, but the pulse at her chest reminded her of the tension she carried: "He will not confront. Not yet. But he will return."
Shyla ducked into a building, hiding in the crowd of students, pretending to be normal. But inside, she knew something had changed. The encounter was over… for now. Yet the city, the rain, the shadows—they all whispered the same truth: Ash was out there, and she would have to navigate the space between ordinary life and the danger he represented.
Shyla moved through the crowded college corridor, backpack heavy on her shoulders, textbooks clutched tightly. She tried to blend in, but every glance felt sharper, every shadow edged with anticipation. The locket throbbed softly against her chest, a steady reminder: "He is near. Be cautious."
And then she saw him.
Ash leaned casually against the doorway of the library, the noise of students moving past him unable to mask the stillness he carried. Even from across the hall, she felt it: the pull, magnetic and precise.