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Chapter 3 - Stirring Shadows

*Nyla*

The sound of the old floorboards creaking beneath my feet echoed through the boarding house as I wandered the narrow hallway, trying to shake off the conversation with Damon—or more accurately, the intensity of his stare. My heart was still acting like I'd run a marathon, and for what? A stranger with pretty eyes and a warning?

I flopped onto the small bed in my room, the mattress groaning like it was older than me. Silvermist was supposed to be a reset. A break from the noise, from the confusion in my head, from the dreams I couldn't explain. Not… whatever *that* was.

I closed my eyes and breathed in the scent of pinewood and something faint—something earthy and musky that clung to the air like an invisible fingerprint.

Probably him.

I hated how I noticed.

The next morning, I explored town. Silvermist was all winding roads, quiet cottages, and people who stared a second too long before looking away.

The coffee shop was quaint, and the barista was already smirking when I walked in.

"You must be the new girl," she said.

I raised an eyebrow. "Let me guess. Town gossip runs faster than internet here?"

She grinned. "Faster than light. I'm Talia."

"Nyla."

She handed me a latte with a wink. "Word of advice? If Damon talks to you again, don't fall for the eyes."

I froze.

"Excuse me?"

She laughed. "He's… complicated. Silvermist royalty, basically. But he doesn't usually talk to anyone new."

"Good to know," I said, sipping the drink and pretending like my stomach wasn't already tangled with questions.

Later that night, I took a walk. Something about the woods pulled at me. The trees were tall and ancient, the kind that didn't just grow—they remembered.

I wasn't alone.

Twigs snapped. My pulse quickened. Then, out of the shadows—Damon.

Again.

He stepped closer, something unreadable in his expression. "You shouldn't be out here at night."

"Why not?" I challenged, folding my arms.

He stared at me like he was trying to see inside me. "Because *they* can smell you."

I frowned. "They?"

He leaned closer, voice low. "You don't belong here, Nyla. But something in your blood does."

Before I could respond, a howl echoed in the distance—raw, loud, and close.

And for a split second, Damon's eyes flickered gold.

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