Ava's car sputtered as she turned onto the gravel road leading to Blackwood Reserve. The GPS had gone haywire three miles back, screen flickering between "no signal" and a blank map. She rolled down the window, letting the scent of pine and damp earth flood the car. According to the 1927 clipping, the farmer's body had been found three miles inside the forest, near a creek marked on her old topographical map.
She parked behind a cluster of birch trees, grabbing her backpack—flashlight, notebook, pepper spray (for bears, she told herself, not whatever Alexander was hiding). The sun hung low, painting the sky in streaks of orange and purple. By dusk, she'd be knee-deep in the woods.
"Stupid," she muttered, slamming the car door. "So stupid."
But her feet kept moving, boots crunching over fallen needles. The forest swallowed her quickly, sunlight dwindling to dappled patches on the ground. Birds fell silent. Even the wind seemed to hold its breath.
An hour in, she found the creek, its water clear and icy. Ava knelt, dipping her hand in, when something caught her eye—a glint of metal half-buried in the mud. She dug it out with a stick: a silver locket, heart-shaped, etched with the same wolf-and-moon crest from Alexander's watch.
Her thumb brushed the clasp. It popped open, revealing a faded photo: a woman with Ava's exact shade of chestnut hair, smiling beside a man who could've been Alexander's twin, save for the softer jawline.
"Who are you?" Ava whispered.
A twig snapped behind her.
She spun, hand flying to the pepper spray in her pocket. "Hello? Who's there?"
Nothing. Just the rustle of leaves, the distant call of a hawk.
Ava stuffed the locket into her backpack, heart hammering. She should leave. Now. But the photo burned in her mind—the woman's smile, the way her eyes crinkled at the corners, so familiar.
She pressed on, following the creek upstream. The trees grew thicker, their branches weaving a canopy that blocked out the last of the sun. By the time she stumbled onto a clearing, dusk had settled, painting everything in blues and grays.
In the center stood a stone cabin, its roof caved in, windows shattered. Ava approached cautiously, shining her flashlight through the doorway. Inside, a fireplace gaped black and empty. On the mantel, another locket—this one open, holding the same photo as the first, but with a date scrawled on the back: 1926. E.B.
"E.B.," Ava murmured. Eleanor? Eliza?
A low growl rumbled through the clearing.
She froze.
It wasn't a bear's growl. Too deep, too… intent.
Ava slowly raised the flashlight, beam cutting through the darkness.
Fifteen feet away, a wolf stood at the edge of the trees. Not a normal wolf—this one was massive, shoulders nearly as high as her waist, fur black as pitch, eyes glowing amber in the light.
It bared its teeth, saliva dripping from its jaws.
Ava's throat went dry. She'd seen wolf attacks on TV, but nothing prepared her for the raw, primal terror of facing one down. This thing could tear her apart in seconds.
She took a step back. The wolf took a step forward.
"Easy," she whispered, voice shaking. "I'm leaving. Just… let me go."
It lunged.
Ava screamed, diving to the side as the wolf crashed into the cabin wall, sending splinters flying. She scrambled to her feet, running blindly into the trees, branches slapping her face.
The wolf's paws thundered behind her, getting closer. She could hear its snarls, hot on her heels.
Then—silence.
Ava skidded to a halt, doubling over, gasping for air. The forest was quiet again. Too quiet.
She turned, flashlight trembling.
The wolf lay on the ground, whimpering, a silver arrow protruding from its shoulder.
And standing over it, bow in hand, was Alexander.
His shirt was unbuttoned at the collar, sleeves torn, chest heaving. Blood streaked his jaw, but his eyes were locked on her, blazing with a fury she'd never seen.
"Get out of my woods," he said, voice gravelly, almost inhuman.
Ava stared at the wolf, then at Alexander. The arrow. The silver. She thought of the locket, the photo, the attacks.
"You shot it," she said, numb.
"I saved you." He pulled the arrow free, and the wolf yelped, shrinking back. Alexander's gaze softened for a split second as he murmured, "Go. Now."
The wolf limped into the trees, vanishing.
Alexander turned to her, and whatever softness had been there was gone. "What part of 'leave it alone' didn't you understand?"
"Who was that woman in the locket?" she shot back. "The one who looks like me?"
He flinched, just barely. "None of your business."
"Bullshit. That wolf—was it you? In the bar, when those guys showed up, your hands shook. Were you scared you'd… change?"
Alexander took a step forward, crowding her against a tree. His chest pressed to hers, his breath hot on her neck. "You have no idea what you're talking about."
"I know you're hiding something. I know those attacks—"
He kissed her.
It wasn't gentle. It was rough, demanding, teeth grazing her lower lip until she gasped, and then his tongue was in her mouth, claiming her, consuming her. Ava's hands fisted in his hair, pulling him closer, even as her brain screamed stop.
He broke away, forehead pressed to hers, both of them panting. "If you keep digging, you'll get yourself killed. Or worse."
"Worse than what?" she whispered.
"Mine."
The word hung between them, thick and dangerous. Alexander's pupils were dilated, almost black, and for a moment, Ava thought she saw a flicker of amber in them—the same color as the wolf's eyes.
A branch snapped.
Lorenzo stepped into the clearing, clapping slowly. "Well, well. Am I interrupting?"
Alexander pulled away from Ava, jaw tight. "What are you doing here?"
"Checking on the perimeter. Seems someone's been playing detective." Lorenzo's gaze landed on Ava, lingering on her swollen lips. "Having fun, darling?"
Ava stepped away from Alexander, crossing her arms. "How did you find me?"
"Tracker on your car. Alexander's idea, not mine." Lorenzo tilted his head. "Though I must say, I'm impressed. Most humans wouldn't make it this far."
"Enough," Alexander snapped.
Lorenzo held up his hands. "Relax, Alpha. I'm just admiring your… taste." He winked at Ava. "Want a ride back to town? I promise not to bite. Hard."
Ava glanced at Alexander, whose jaw was set in a hard line. She thought of the wolf, the arrow, the way he'd kissed her like he was starving.
"Thanks, but I drove," she said.
Lorenzo shrugged. "Suit yourself. Try not to get eaten on the way out."
He vanished into the trees, whistling a tune that sounded suspiciously like "Who's Afraid of the Big Bad Wolf."
Ava turned to Alexander. "Why a tracker?"
"To keep you out of trouble."
"By violating my privacy?"
"By keeping you alive." He ran a hand through his hair, looking suddenly exhausted. "You shouldn't be here, Ava. This world—it's not for you."
"Too late." She pulled the locket from her backpack, opening it. "Tell me who she is."
Alexander's gaze dropped to the photo, his throat bobbing. "Eleanor Blackwood. My great-grandmother."
Ava's breath caught. "Your great-grandmother. With my hair. My eyes."
"Coincidence."
"Bullshit."
He reached for the locket, but she stepped back. "Why did she have this? Why is there another one in that cabin?"
"Because she died there. In 1927. Mauled by a rogue wolf." His voice was quiet, raw. "The same one that killed the farmer."
Ava thought of the wolf he'd shot, of the way he'd spoken to it. "Was it… one of yours?"
Alexander's jaw tightened. "We don't kill humans. Not unless provoked."
"Then who's doing this?"
He didn't answer.
The first stars pricked the sky. Ava shivered, not from cold. "I should go."
Alexander nodded, but made no move to let her pass. "The locket. Keep it."
"Why?"
"Because it's safer with you than with me." He brushed a strand of hair from her face, his touch gentle now, almost reverent. "And Ava? Be careful. Lorenzo isn't as harmless as he looks."
She nodded, slipping past him, heading back through the woods. Behind her, she heard him mutter something, a word in a language she didn't recognize.
By the time she reached her car, her hands were shaking. Not from fear, but from the way Alexander had kissed her, the way he'd looked at her when he spoke of Eleanor.
She pulled out the locket, tracing Eleanor's face. What happened to you?
A notification pinged on her phone. A text from an unknown number:
Stay away from Lorenzo. And whatever you do, don't come back to the woods on the full moon.
Ava smiled, starting the car.
Too late. I'm already hooked.
In the rearview mirror, a figure stood at the edge of the trees, watching her leave. She couldn't tell if it was Alexander or the wolf.
Either way, she knew she'd be back.
And next time, she'd get answers.