Capítulo 2: The Wolf's Shadow
The early morning fog still clung to the streets of Moonshade Falls as Elara walked to school the next day. She had barely slept, her mind swirling with everything that had happened. The pull of the forest, the strange encounter with Rowen, and the unsettling words her grandmother had spoken—"The wolves are stirring. And so are you."
Elara felt as if the world was shifting beneath her feet, slowly unraveling the threads of her life. It wasn't just the forest that had changed—it was something deeper, something older that had been waking up. She could feel it in her bones, a constant hum that vibrated through her body, urging her to uncover whatever secret lay hidden beneath the surface of her ordinary life.
The wind picked up, sending a chill through her jacket as she approached the entrance of Moonshade High. The school, as always, was alive with the chatter of students, the sound of laughter and footsteps echoing across the courtyard. Elara barely noticed it. Her thoughts were still consumed with the images from her vision: the glowing amber eyes of the wolf, the dark pull toward the forest, and the way Jaxon Grey had known her name before she even spoke it.
Pushing through the doors, she stepped into the familiar halls of the school, but everything felt off. It was as though the walls were closing in on her, each shadow in the corner of her vision pulling her deeper into a world she didn't understand.
Her eyes flickered to the side as she passed by a group of students gathered near the lockers. They were talking in hushed voices, but when they saw her approach, the conversation seemed to die.
Rowen His name seemed to hang in the air like an invisible weight. Whispers followed her everywhere she went, their words floating behind her like a trail of smoke.
"You see him? Rowen Who does he think he is?"
"He's different. You can tell. But what's he doing here?"
"Maybe he's just passing through…"
The whispers continued as she walked past, the weight of their curiosity pressing down on her. Elara clenched her fists at her sides, trying to ignore the burning sensation in her chest. She didn't care about their gossip, didn't care about Rowen Not yet, anyway.
She was about to push open the door to her first class when a voice stopped her in her tracks.
"Elara."
She turned slowly. Standing just behind her, in the empty hallway, was Becca. The concern on her face was unmistakable, her brow furrowed with something more than just curiosity.
"You've been acting strange," Becca said, her voice soft but insistent. "Are you okay?"
Elara forced a smile, trying to push the unease away. "I'm fine. Just a bit tired."
Becca didn't look convinced, but she nodded, her gaze lingering on Elara for a moment longer than necessary. "Alright, but if something's bothering you, you can talk to me, okay?"
Before Elara could respond, Becca was already walking away, disappearing into the bustling crowd of students. Elara stood there for a moment longer, the weight of her friend's concern lingering in the air like a thread she couldn't pull away.
Shaking her head, she finally stepped into the classroom, her mind still swirling with questions.
The rest of the school day passed in a blur. Elara struggled to focus on the lessons, her mind constantly drifting back to Rowen. Who was he? Why had he appeared at the gates of the school, seemingly knowing things about her that no one else did?
There was an air of mystery surrounding him, an unspoken depth that called to her, even as it frightened her. The wolves are stirring—her grandmother's words echoed in her mind. Could Jaxon be connected to that?
By the time the final bell rang, signaling the end of the day, Elara had made up her mind. She couldn't ignore it any longer. There was something happening in Moonshade Falls, and she needed to know what it was. She couldn't shake the feeling that it had everything to do with the forest—and maybe even the strange connection she felt to it.
As she walked out of the school, the mist from the morning had thickened, curling around the buildings like a living thing. The streets were nearly empty, the usual bustle of the town subdued. But at the far end of the street, standing in the shadow of the looming Blackwood Estate, was rowen, He was waiting for her.
Elara's heart raced as she approached him. She had no idea what she was going to say, but she knew she had to speak to him. There was something in his eyes, something that both terrified and captivated her.
Rowen turned to her as she approached, his expression unreadable. His dark eyes locked onto hers with an intensity that made Elara's breath catch in her throat.
"You came," he said, his voice low, almost like a whisper. "I knew you would."
Elara didn't know what to say to that. How could he know?
"I don't know who you are," Elara said, her voice shaking slightly. "But I need answers. About the forest, about... everything."
Rowens lips curled into a small smile, but there was no warmth in it—only the cold, calculating edge of someone who knew more than he was letting on.
"You feel it too, don't you?" he asked, his voice soft but urgent. "The pull. The connection to the forest. It's in your blood, Elara."
Her heart skipped a beat. In your blood. The words echoed in her mind, setting off an alarm bell in her head.
"What do you mean?" she demanded, her voice rising. "I don't know what you're talking about."
Rowen stepped closer, his presence overwhelming. "You're not just any ordinary girl. Neither of us are. We're both connected to something older, something powerful. And if we don't figure out what's happening soon, the town—and everything we know—will be lost."
Elara could feel the tension in the air, thick and suffocating. The forest, the wolves, the strange energy she'd been sensing—it was all connected to him, to her. She couldn't deny it any longer.
"Why me?" she whispered, her voice barely audible. "Why now?"
Rowens eyes softened, just for a moment, before he turned away. "Because the wolves are stirring, and the old bloodlines are waking up. And you… you are one of the last of them."
That night, Elara couldn't sleep. Her thoughts raced in a hundred different directions, the weight of Jaxon's words pressing heavily on her chest. The old bloodlines are waking up. You are one of the last of them.
What did that mean? Was she part of something bigger than herself? Was she connected to the wolves, to whatever power lay hidden in the forest? And if so, what would happen when she fully understood it?
She stood by her bedroom window, staring out at the forest that lay just beyond the edge of the town. The mist had returned, thick and swirling in the distance. Elara felt the pull again, stronger now, as if the forest were calling to her, beckoning her to come closer.
Without thinking, she slipped on her jacket and stepped out into the night, her feet carrying her toward the woods. Each step felt like it was guiding her to something she didn't fully understand, but knew she needed to find.
The trees loomed in front of her, dark and silent, as Elara stood at the edge of the forest. The wind whispered through the branches, the sound like a voice, urging her forward.
With a deep breath, she stepped into the shadows of the trees, the world around her growing colder and darker with each passing moment. She wasn't sure what she was looking for, but she could feel it now—the energy, the pull, the ancient power that had always been there, hidden just beneath the surface.
As she moved deeper into the forest, the mist grew thicker, wrapping around her like a living thing. The trees seemed to close in around her, their gnarled branches reaching out like fingers, guiding her forward.
Then, suddenly, a shadow moved in the corner of her vision. Elara froze, her breath catching in her throat.
From the shadows of the trees, a figure stepped forward, his eyes glowing a fierce amber. It was Rowen.
"Are you ready?" he asked, his voice low and serious.
For the first time, Elara felt the weight of everything pressing down on her. The forest, the wolves, the strange power she could feel stirring within her.
And she knew, deep down, that there was no turning back.
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