The words slipped out before I could stop them. For a moment I froze—but then he laughed. A real, unguarded laugh that softened his whole expression, making his eyes curve into warm crescents.
“Tomorrow afternoon,” he said, “I’ll show you a place I go to often. You can see the whole valley from there. And… the light is beautiful at sunset.”
“Is this a date, Mr. Black?”
“That depends on you, Miss Green.”
I changed my outfit ten times. Ended up in a simple white linen shirt and jeans. Even put on mascara. God help me.
Liam picked me up in an old pickup truck that smelled like pine and gasoline. We drove deeper into the forest, the road narrowing, the canopy thickening until the sun disappeared completely.
“You bring girls here often?” I asked, choking on the silence.
“Never.”
No hesitation.
We stopped at a cliff overlook, and the view hit me like a punch. The entire valley was swallowed in golden sunset, the river gleaming like a silver ribbon twisting through the world.
“Wow,” I whispered.
“I know.” Liam pulled out his camera, every movement deliberate and smooth. “Sometimes the most beautiful things hide in the hardest places to reach.”
He began taking photos. I began stealing glances. The way he moved was… different. Quiet. Fluid. Almost predatory, as if he was always listening to something I couldn’t hear. His shirt stretched across his back when he crouched, outlining lean muscle.
“What are you looking at?” he asked suddenly, without turning.
“Nothing.” My cheeks flared with heat.
He lowered the camera and walked toward me. “You’re a terrible liar.”
He was close—too close. Close enough for me to smell him. Pine needles, earth, and something deeper, raw, wild.
“I found something,” I blurted. “In the archives. A photo from 1902.”
His body went still, like a wire pulled taut. “Oh?”
“There’s a man in it… who looks exactly like you.”
Silence.
Heavy.
Charged.
His eyes sharpened, and for the first time I noticed it—those faint gold flecks around his pupils.
“A coincidence,” he said finally. Calm voice. Not a calm man. The air between us tightened, dense enough to touch.
“Liam,” I whispered, reaching out—God, why did I do that?—to touch his arm. “If there’s something you want to tell me…”
A long wolf howl broke across the mountains, so close the ground seemed to hum.
Liam spun toward the sound, muscles coiled beneath his shirt. He didn’t look afraid.
He looked alert.
Like it called to him.
“We should go,” he said sharply. “It’s getting dark.”
The ride back was silent. Too silent. When he dropped me at the library, he didn’t even kill the engine.
“Liam,” I said quietly, “did I say something—”
“Tomorrow,” he cut in, voice rough. “Full moon. I always go into the mountains on full-moon nights. I’ll be gone a few days.”
“Oh.”
My chest tightened with a stupid, unexplainable disappointment.
He hesitated, then reached for the chain around his neck. It was a simple silver necklace, the pendant a small wolf’s head. He pressed it into my hand, warm from his skin.
“Take this,” he said. “A… charm. Wear it while I’m gone.”
“Why?”
“Just wear it.” His eyes softened with something like pleading. “Promise me, Sophia.”
Before I could answer, he pulled away, swallowed by the rising dusk.
I stood there in the cooling night, clutching the warm silver wolf in my fist. Somewhere in the mountains, a second howl rolled across the sky—closer, sharper, echoing through my bones.
I slept with that necklace on for three days.
It wasn’t because I believed in charms or curses.
Okay—maybe I was just a complete idiot.
Every time the silver wolf pendant touched my skin, warmth pulsed through me like a memory of his fingers. It felt like he was still here, brushing against me, hovering close enough to breathe the same air.
“He still hasn’t called you?”
Jessica practically screamed through the phone.
“It’s been four days, Soph! That’s not romantic—it’s creepy!”
“He’s in the mountains,” I mumbled, defending him and myself at the same time. “Maybe there’s no signal.”
But even I didn’t buy that excuse.
Every night I stood at my window, staring toward the dark line of the forest. The full moon glowed unnaturally bright, like a silver coin pressed into the sky. Sometimes I heard wolves—louder than before, closer, like they were circling the edges of my world.
On the fourth night, I snapped.
The archive keys jingled in my fist, urging me forward.
That photo.
I needed to see it again.
The archive at midnight was a maze of shadows. I flicked on a single desk lamp; yellow light pooled around the old album from 1902.
There he was again—the man who looked exactly like Liam. Standing between two others, staring out of the past like he’d been waiting for me.
I flipped the photo over. Ink faded with age read:
“Purge Operation—Autumn 1902. From left: Charles Green, Arthur Black, Thomas Green.”
Green.
My last name.
A chill slid down my spine.
I dug through the archive box beside it, searching for anything about this “purge.” At the bottom, wrapped tightly in silk, was a folder marked with a warning:
“Restricted. Do Not Access.”
Yeah, right.
The documents inside made my blood run cold.
“Oct. 31st, 1902: Successful elimination of the Shadowfang threat… Arthur Black executed… his son Ezra escaped…”
A blurred photograph was attached—
A boy, no older than ten, chained by the neck. His eyes burned with hatred so fierce it felt alive.
Below it:
“Ezra Black. Last surviving werewolf.”
My hands shook so badly I almost dropped the page.
Black.
Liam’s last name.
My phone buzzed.
Liam.
I bolted outside.
He was leaning against his truck under the streetlamp, soaked in exhaustion. Mud stained his jeans, his shirt was torn, and fresh claw marks scored his arm.
“Sophia,” he rasped. “I—”
“You’re a Black.” I cut him off, clutching the copied document like a weapon.
His expression froze. “You investigated me?”
“Who was that boy, Liam? Ezra Black. Who is he to you?”
A long silence fell. Moonlight caught his face, and his pupils—
They were too wide, swallowing the green.
“My great-grandfather,” he finally murmured.
Math spiraled in my head.
1902.
A ten-year-old boy.
If he’d survived…
If the curse kept him alive…
“No,” I whispered, backing away. “That’s impossible.”
A wolf howl ripped through the woods—so close it vibrated in my bones. Liam’s head snapped toward the trees, his entire body tensing unnaturally.
When he turned back to me, something wild flickered behind his eyes—dangerous and heartbreakingly vulnerable.
“Sophia,” he stepped toward me, “there are things I never wanted you to know—”
“You’re one of them, aren’t you?” My voice shook. “One of the… the wolves.”
He didn’t deny it.
That was the worst part.
“It’s not what you think,” he said, desperation cracking through. “I’ve never hurt anyone. I swear.”
Another howl—closer.
Liam grabbed me, yanking me behind him with inhuman speed.
“Stay with me,” he growled. “Don’t run.”
Eyes appeared between the trees—glowing, hungry. Shadows shifted, heavy with musk and rot.
“Who are they?” I whispered, clinging to his shirt.
“My kind,” he said bitterly. “That doesn’t make them allies.”
The first wolf burst from the trees—a monstrous gray beast, saliva dripping from its fangs.
Liam answered with a sound I’d never heard from a human throat—deep, furious, primal.
He shoved me toward the truck. “Get in! Lock the doors!”
But another wolf lunged from the side—aimed for me.
Everything slowed.
Claws flashed.
Teeth bared.
I screamed.