Chapter 12: The Pull
603 Words
The growl shivered through Aria’s bones. Low and primal, it thrummed like the earth itself had spoken. Around her, the villagers recoiled, clutching each other tighter, but for her… it was different.
It wasn’t just a sound. It was a tether. A vibration that settled in her chest and refused to let go. Her heart responded in frantic rhythm, like it had been waiting for that very note.
Kael.
She hadn’t spoken his name aloud, not once, yet it echoed in her mind with terrifying certainty.
The hunters moved quickly, forming a wall of blades between the villagers and the forest’s edge. Garrick barked orders, his voice sharp but steady. “Stand firm! It’s here!”
It. The way he said it twisted something inside her. They spoke of a monster. A beast. Yet the part of her that feared Garrick more than wolves whispered another truth: someone was out there. Someone she knew.
Her hands trembled as she held her shawl tighter, fighting the urge to break from the crowd and run toward the trees. She didn’t understand why—only that every part of her screamed that she should.
The villagers’ whispers stung her ears.
“She draws it here.”
“She’s cursed, I told you.”
“Always wandering alone… she’s not right.”
Aria flinched as an older man spat near her feet, pulling his wife behind him as though her very breath could taint them. Their eyes—suspicious, fearful—were worse than Garrick’s blade.
Why me? she thought, panic squeezing her chest. Why are they turning on me?
And yet… another voice rose beneath her fear. Softer, steady, dangerous. Because you are not like them.
Aria closed her eyes, her breaths shallow. The air prickled against her skin as though charged, a strange current thrumming under her flesh. Her blood felt too warm, too alive. She pressed her palms hard against her skirts, willing the feeling away, desperate to smother it before anyone else noticed.
But the tether pulled again. She could feel him now—Kael—beyond the firelight, watching, waiting, his presence curling around her like a protective shroud. He hadn’t stepped forward yet, but he was there.
And she wasn’t afraid.
The hunters were. Garrick’s men shifted uneasily, blades glinting as they peered into the trees. One whispered, “It’s circling.” Another muttered a prayer.
Aria’s lips parted, almost on instinct, her voice breaking the silence. “Don’t.”
The single word made Garrick whip his head toward her, his eyes narrowing. “What did you say?”
She swallowed hard, pulse hammering. “Don’t hurt him.”
Gasps rippled through the crowd. Someone hissed, “She knows it.”
Heat rushed to her cheeks. She hadn’t meant to speak, hadn’t even realized the words were leaving her mouth until they hung heavy in the night.
Garrick stepped closer, towering over her, his shadow stretching long in the torchlight. “You,” he growled, his voice thick with accusation. “You do know it.”
Aria shook her head, but her tongue felt heavy, her body betraying her with trembling she couldn’t control. Her every nerve screamed danger—and yet, beneath it, an unyielding truth whispered: He is mine. And I am his.
The growl came again, closer now. The torches guttered in the sudden wind, flames bending toward the villagers as if the forest itself exhaled.
And this time, Aria didn’t flinch. She lifted her chin, heart racing, eyes fixed on the treeline.
“Come,” she whispered, too soft for anyone else to hear.
The darkness stirred.
- Writer
