For a long moment, she lay still, her mind surfacing slowly from the heat of the night before. The memory of Darian's hands, his breath, his whispered surrender… everything returned in a rush that made her chest tighten.
She turned her head.
Darian lay beside her — asleep, but not peacefully. His brow was furrowed even in rest, jaw tight, fingers curled into the blanket as though bracing against nightmares only he could see. Snowlight caught in his eyelashes. A faint shadow bruised the skin beneath his eyes.
He looked… breakable.And she knew he wasn't.
Sophia reached out and brushed her fingers lightly along his hairline.
His eyes snapped open instantly.
Golden.Alert.Predatory.
But when he saw her, the wildness softened, dissolving into something warmer, deeper, almost disbelieving.
"Sophia," he breathed, voice rough from sleep. "You're still here."
"Of course I am."
He exhaled — a small, shaky sound that was unlike him in every way.
"Good."
He didn't move to touch her, though. If anything, he seemed to be silently battling with himself, as though afraid one more moment of closeness would shatter the fragile control he'd rebuilt overnight.
Sophia pushed herself up slightly, the blanket slipping down her shoulder. Darian's gaze flicked there — just for a heartbeat — before he forced his eyes away, jaw clenching.
"You regret it," she said softly.
His head snapped toward her, eyes burning. "Never."
She swallowed. "Then why—"
"Because danger didn't leave with the night," he said, sitting up. His expression hardened, all emotion snapping back behind the armor he wore like skin. "Those creatures didn't retreat. They regrouped."
Sophia's heartbeat stumbled. "How do you know?"
He didn't answer immediately. Instead, he stood, pulling on his shirt with quick, controlled movements. He looked powerful and restless and haunted all at once.
"There's something you need to see," he said. "Get dressed."
The shift in him scared her more than the creatures had.
But she dressed quickly, following him downstairs into the cold morning. The fire had died to embers. Frost clung to the windows like pale spiders.
When Darian opened the front door, a gust of air hit them — sharp, metallic, carrying the faint scent of pine and something more unsettling.
Sophia stepped out onto the porch.
And froze.
Tracks.
Deep, heavy, clawed prints circled the house like a warning. The snow around them was disturbed, churned up as if something had paced there for hours.
Watching.Waiting.
And at the edge of the clearing, half-buried in snow, lay something dark.
Sophia moved toward it, but Darian caught her arm.
"Careful."
They approached together.
The object in the snow was a piece of wood — jagged, splintered, torn from the very doorstep. But carved into its surface, deep enough to gouge the grain, were symbols.
Sharp.Twisted.Unfamiliar and yet somehow… familiar.
Sophia knelt, fingertips hovering over the marks.
"What does it mean?"
Darian didn't speak for several seconds, his expression growing darker with every heartbeat.
"It's a warning," he said finally.
Sophia looked up. "A warning for you?"
"No." Darian's gaze met hers. "A warning about you."
Her stomach twisted. "What does it say?"
His throat worked. "It says you've been… chosen."
The world tilted.
"Chosen for what?"
He didn't answer.
"Darian."
He closed his eyes briefly, pain tightening his features.
"This is why I tried to keep my distance," he said. "Because whatever calls to you in that forest… it has the power to move through the night like shadow. And now that I've touched you—"
Sophia's breath hitched. "Are you saying last night put me in more danger?"
He opened his eyes, gaze heavy with guilt and heat and something she couldn't name.
"I'm saying last night bound us," he said quietly. "In ways neither of us can undo."
The wind shivered through the trees.
Sophia touched his hand. "Then we face it together."
Darian flinched — not from her touch, but from the promise inside it.
"There's something else," he said, voice low. "About you."
"About me?"
He walked a few steps away, looking toward the forest — the thick wall of trees where the pale morning light never seemed to fully reach.
"The night you arrived," he said slowly, "I didn't just hear you."
Sophia frowned. "What do you mean?"
"I felt you."
She stared at him. "Darian—"
"There's a resonance in you," he continued. "Like something in your blood or your spirit is connected to this place… to them… and now to me."
Sophia's pulse hammered. "Are you saying I'm like you?"
"No." He turned to her, expression fierce. "You're nothing like me. You're more dangerous than that."
Her breath caught.
"I don't understand."
"You will," he said. "Because last night changed everything. And whatever was sleeping inside you… woke up."
A chill crept down her spine.
"What did I wake?"
Darian stepped toward her and placed a hand over her heart.
"This," he murmured. "Whatever beats in here is older than anything in that forest."
Sophia opened her mouth to respond—
But the wind shifted.
A soft, distant whisper curled through the trees.Not human.Not animal.
Darian stiffened instantly, stepping in front of her.
"They're calling again."
Sophia felt it this time — a faint pull behind her ribs, a quiet hum in her bones.
"Darian…" she whispered, clutching his arm. "I can hear it."
"I know."
"What do we do?"
He looked at the forest. Then at her.
"We go into the woods."
Her breath caught. "Now?"
"Now," he said, voice steady but eyes burning with fear. "Before whatever chose you decides to come take you."