Chapter 11: The Wind Knows Her Name
1295 Words
Elena dreamt of the sea again.
The red-haired woman was calling her—draped in pearls and netting, moonlight woven into her skin. Her face was soft, ageless. Familiar. The same wolf paced behind her, quiet and tireless.
Elena stood at the edge of a cliff, wind thrashing through her hair, her feet bare and cold against the damp sand. The waves churned below.
She tried to speak, to call out—but the woman only raised one hand and pressed a finger to her lips.
Silence.
Then the wave came—tall, glimmering—not to crash, but to engulf.
And Elena didn’t run.
She opened her arms.
She woke with a gasp.
The room was warm, the lighthouse wrapped in quiet. Pale morning light spilled across the floorboards. Her heart was thudding—not with fear, but with... expectation.
She got out of bed and threw on an oversized T-shirt, giving herself a glance in the mirror. Her fingers passed through her thinning hair, trying to tame it. Then she padded barefoot into the kitchen.
Nessa was already there, as always—brewing tea, her quiet presence steadying the air.
Something inside Elena felt restless. Not anxious. Just... aware.
She could hear the kettle just before it boiled. Smell the rosemary before the leaves touched the water. The world felt like it had been nudged a notch too high.
She didn’t mention it. She didn’t want to worry Nessa.
Instead, she asked if she could go for a walk—maybe shake the strange energy off.
“That’s a great idea, honey,” Nessa said with a soft smile. “I need to stock up on wild herbs anyway. Let’s all go.”
Mira, sitting at the small kitchen table, looked up from her phone and nodded, tucking it away. “I’m in.”
The island air was sharp and clean. Elena had come to love the cliffs—their openness, the crash of waves, the wind that pulled at her thoughts like threads.
They walked the narrow paths with Nessa carrying a woven basket, stopping often to pluck plants and flowers. Gradually, Mira and Nessa had drifted behind her... far behind her as Elena kept striding ahead.
Elena then suddenly paused... Ears pricked, stopping her in her tracks.
Voices carried on the wind.
“...he hasn’t told the council about her. And I don’t think he plans to. Not yet.”
Elena froze. Was she hearing voices again ?
She turned slowly, looking behind her.
Mira and Nessa were far back—heads bent together, expressions unreadable from this distance. Surely it wasn’t them…
But the words came again—clear as day, only slightly delayed from their lips. Like watching a dream. Or a badly synced film.
“He’s right to be cautious,” Mira said. “If the signal was a warning, the last thing we need is panic.”
The wind shifted.
A pause. Then Nessa, voice lower: “And Kai? Has he seen her?”
“Not yet,” Mira replied. “But I think he will today.”
Elena turned quickly before they noticed her listening and continued walking, forcing her pace to stay even.
But the words stuck.
If the signal was a warning.
He hasn’t told the council.
Kai.
Something was happening beneath the surface. She could feel it—like pressure behind her eyes or the sea against stone.
—
Later, she returned to the lighthouse alone. Mira and Nessa remained on the cliffs.
The house was quiet.
She curled into the pink vintage chair by the window, the family album resting on her knees. Her fingers traced the cracked leather cover.
“Elena…” she whispered aloud, testing the name on her tongue. It still felt strange—but better than Jane. More real. More hers.
The girl in the photos had been fearless. Messy. Bright-eyed.
She wanted to remember her.
But the memories were misty at best. The trauma of the crash had stolen them, and she had been so young. Most people barely remembered anything before the age of five—and Elena had lost what little she might’ve held onto.
A knock broke the stillness.
She hesitated, gently closing the album.
Another knock—firmer this time.
She rose slowly, her heart fluttering. She didn’t need to open the door to know who it was.
The scent in the air gave him away—pine and something warm, something that wrapped around her like the beanie she refused to stop wearing.
The door slowly opened and Kai stood on the threshold.
His dark curls were wind-tossed, his coat still damp from the sea air. He looked taller up close. Broader.
But it was his eyes that held her in place—stormy and unreadable, but softened by something she couldn’t quite name.
“Hi,” she said, her voice smaller than she expected.
“Hi,” he echoed, a crooked smile tugging at his lips. The sound of it settled something in the air between them.
They stood for a long moment.
“Mind if I come in?” he asked playfully, voice low.
She nodded and stepped aside, gesturing silently.
He walked in with care, as though not wanting to disturb the stillness of the space. As he passed, the scent of pine and forest clung to the air between them. Her whole body stilled. The restless energy from that morning softened into something deeper. Not fear. Not recognition...Pull.
They sat at the small table facing one another.
He didn’t rush conversation.
Neither did she.
“You look better,” he said eventually.
“I feel… different,” she admitted.
Kai nodded, eyes thoughtful. Like he understood exactly what she meant.
“Thank you,” she added after a beat. “Ethan said you helped find me.”
Kai looked down at his hands. “You were never lost.”
The way he said it made her chest tighten.
There was more behind his words. She could sense it, even if she didn’t understand.
“Would you like some tea?” she said, suddenly needing something to do. “I can’t promise it’ll be as good as Nessa’s…”
“I’ll risk it,” he said, his smile warmer now.
She moved to the kitchen, back turned, glancing over her shoulder once to steal a glnce at him.
He was already watching her.
The glance sent a pleasant shiver down her spine.
“Here you go,” she said, setting the mug in front of him.
Kai reached out and, as he took it from her, his fingers brushed hers—deliberate and careful.
Elena’s breath caught, Kais werewolf senses catching that sound.
Kai wondered if she felt the bond too? Or was it fear?
She didn’t pull away.
Instead, she found herself wanting him to stay. So she talked—softly, more than usual. About the island. About the herbs Nessa was teaching her about. And opened up about the feeling in the wind lately, like something was waking up.
Kai listened like it mattered. Like all of it mattered.
He had waited for this—for her.
But he hadn’t expected it to feel like this.
He knew better than to stay long, not while council tensions were rising after the smoke signal, but Goddess, he didn’t want to leave.
When he stood to go, she followed him to the door.
They paused there—close, but not touching.
“I’m glad you came,” she said quietly.
His gaze softened. “So am I.”
She hesitated. “Will you come again?”
“I’d like that,” he said.
She watched him until the trees swallowed his silhouette.
Only then did she remember to breathe.
- Writer
