Chapter Four: The Shadow’s Warning
“Stay behind me!” Jonah barked, dragging me so close I could feel the tremor running through his body. Heat poured off him, but underneath it his muscles quivered like a taut bowstring.
The door shuddered again. Splinters cracked off the wood and flew like brittle bones. My heart crashed too loud in my chest, too frantic, as though it might break its way out. My fists clung to Jonah’s shirt as if letting go meant being swallowed whole by the blackness pressing against the cabin walls.
“It’s coming through,” I whispered, raw and breathless.
“I know.” Jonah’s reply was low and fierce. His dagger caught the firelight, steady in his grip, though his jaw clenched hard enough to splinter teeth. His shoulders coiled, every inch of him braced like a predator on the edge of striking. For all his control, I saw it then—the trace of fear in his eyes.
The bolt screeched. Snapped.
The door burst inward with a crack that shook the cabin to its bones. A rush of cold air howled through the room, guttering the fire. Shadows leapt across the walls like claws slashing at us.
At first, nothing stood there. Just darkness, thicker than night. Then, slowly, two eyes appeared, low to the ground, burning red and fixed directly on me.
Jonah’s snarl ripped the air, rough and unearthly—more wolf than man. He stepped forward, arm stretched back as if he could shield me from something that belonged to no world we knew.
“Show yourself!” he demanded.
Silence answered, broken only by the scrape of claws dragging across wood as the thing moved closer.
I couldn’t move. My stomach twisted, and my knees turned to water. Dread pressed down on me, thick as tar.
Jonah struck first, dagger flashing in an arc. But the blade sliced nothing. The creature slid back, impossibly fast, dissolving like smoke. Its laugh filled the cabin—not a laugh at all, but a sound that crawled under my skin and locked my lungs in place.
“Elena.” It tasted my name with slow, dark delight. “The forest has been waiting.”
My knees buckled. Seraphina surged inside me, sharp and commanding. Do not let it see you weaken. Stand.
I forced myself upright, gripping a chair so hard my nails tore the wood. My chest burned, but I held myself still. Jonah struck again, dagger carving through the air, fury driving each blow. Every strike met emptiness.
“Coward!” he roared. “Face me!”
The laughter thickened, spreading like rot. Then, like lightning, the shadow lunged. Jonah’s blade connected this time. The creature shrieked, a sound that curdled my blood. It wasn’t human. It wasn’t an animal. It was something far older.
The force of it flung Jonah backward. He crashed into the table. A lantern toppled, glass shattering. Flames leapt to life, racing across the rug.
“No!” I dropped, smothering the fire with frantic hands, the smoke choking my lungs. Tears blurred my vision, but I beat the flames down until at last they sputtered out.
When I looked up, Jonah was gone.
My heart stopped. “Jonah?”
The cabin was silent. No eyes. No laughter. Only smoke curling in the broken doorway yawning open like a wound.
“Jonah!” My scream cracked my throat.
A grunt outside. Short. Cut off.
I staggered to the door. The forest loomed—black branches clawing the sky, the ground choked with shadows. Then I saw him. Jonah, dagger still in his grip, chest heaving, sweat gleaming on his brow.
Relief surged through me. “Jonah—”
But then my blood froze. A shape rose behind him. Taller than any wolf, its form shifted between fur and smoke. Claws glinted. It stalked toward him with slow patience.
“Behind you!” I cried.
Jonah spun as the beast lunged. They collided, the impact rattling through my bones. His dagger flashed, then spun from his hand into the dirt.
I didn’t think. I grabbed a jagged shard of wood from the shattered frame, gripping it so tight splinters pierced my skin. I bolted forward.
“Get away from him!” My scream cracked the night. I swung with every ounce of strength. The wood struck its back.
The beast’s head snapped toward me. Its eyes met mine. No longer burning red, but hollow voids—endless, empty, pulling me into them. My breath caught. My body froze. My very soul felt like it was unraveling.
“Elena!” Jonah’s voice cut through the spell. He shoved the beast off him, muscles straining, face bloodied. “Run!”
“I’m not leaving you!”
The shadow slammed him into the dirt, claws gouging trenches inches from his face. Panic tore through me. I hurled the wood again, striking its shoulder. It whipped around, teeth bared.
And then it froze.
Its head tilted, as though listening to something distant. Slowly, impossibly, its form unraveled. Smoke curled up, melting back into the trees until nothing remained but silence.
Jonah staggered to his feet, gasping. I rushed to him, catching his arm.
“What just happened?” My voice shook with every word.
He didn’t answer at first. He only stared into the forest, jaw tight, eyes dark and unreadable. At last, he said, “It wasn’t running from us.”
My breath hitched. “Then… from what?”
“Something worse.”
The woods lay still. Too still. The air felt charged, ancient, as though the forest itself held its breath. Seraphina stirred restlessly, pacing inside me.
Then a sound split the silence.
A howl.
Not wolf. Not human.
It shook the trees, rattled the ground, and froze the blood in my veins.
Jonah seized my hand. “Inside. Now.”
We stumbled back into the ruined cabin, the door hanging off its hinges. Smoke lingered, stinging my throat. My legs buckled into a chair while Jonah paced like a caged animal, dagger clenched white-knuckled, eyes fixed on the window.
“What was that thing?” My voice was barely a whisper.
He shook his head, unreadable. “Not a creature. A warning.”
“A warning from what?”
His silence stretched until I thought I’d break. Finally, he said, “From whatever comes next.”
The air shifted.
And then—faint, carried on the wind, but unmistakable—
“Elena…”
This time it wasn’t the shadow’s voice.
It was Damien’s.
