WHISPERS
1169 Words
The first thing I noticed was the silence. Not the kind that fills a room, not the polite hush of someone walking on marble floors, but the quiet that makes your own thoughts thunder in your skull. My stomach twisted, tight with nausea, the residual bite of the wolfsbane still crawling beneath my skin.
Every step toward the servant’s corridor felt heavier than the last, my legs trembling, but curiosity lanced through me sharper than fear. Someone had left a trace here, a thread I wasn’t supposed to follow, and I couldn’t help myself.
The hallway smelled faintly of herbs and dust, mingling with the chill of the stone beneath my fingertips as I brushed along the wall. My wolf stirred restlessly, testing the edges of her cage, growling quietly in my mind. I tried to silence her, told her she had to wait. I had to move like a ghost. I had to hear this.
A soft murmur reached me from the slightly ajar door at the end of the hall. Voices low, careful, deliberate. I froze, pressing my back against the wall, heartbeat hammering unevenly. One voice I recognized immediately. Seraphine. The other, clipped and unfamiliar. My stomach dropped. Whoever it was, they were not here to serve tea.
I inched closer. The c***k of the door let just enough light spill into the hallway for me to see the curves of the dark silhouettes inside. Seraphine leaned over a desk, her fingers tapping a rhythm that made my skin prickle.
The other figure was shrouded in shadow, shoulders tight with authority, and their voice cut through the quiet like a knife.
“Do you think she suspects?” the stranger asked.
“She senses something,” Seraphine replied, soft but sharp. “She doesn’t know enough. Not yet.”
The words struck me like ice. Not yet. My pulse skipped. Not enough. Someone was orchestrating this, watching me, predicting me.
The heat under my skin flared, a flash of the wolf wanting to answer, to strike, to bite. I swallowed, tasting iron and panic. My hands shook, brushing against the wall to steady myself, fingers pressing into stone that felt impossibly cold.
“By the time she realizes,” the stranger continued, “it will be too late to stop what comes next.”
My stomach lurched. What comes next? I pressed my palm over my mouth, holding back a gasp. My mind raced. Poison, suppression, manipulation everything pointed to someone with a plan, someone far beyond Seraphine alone. And yet, her voice was calm, controlled. Dangerous.
“You’re certain?” Seraphine’s words were smooth, almost indulgent. “We can’t have a misstep. She must remain unaware.”
The shadow figure’s laugh was a whisper, short, cruel. “I wouldn’t call it a misstep. She’ll see what she’s capable of soon enough. If she survives.”
I felt my knees threaten to give out, and I pressed myself flat against the wall, shivering. My wolf growled, tugging at the edges of my mind, desperate to break free. I clenched my teeth, counting in tiny breaths. One. Two. Three. Anchor yourself. Hide. Survive.
A piece of paper slid across the desk between them. I caught a glimpse of handwriting, jagged, almost frantic. My stomach churned. The words were scratched into the page: “Your life is not your own.”
I wanted to scream. I wanted to leap inside, tear it from their hands, demand answers, but my body refused. Weakness laced my muscles, the poison still burrowing deeper, my wolf still restrained, pacing behind invisible bars. My hands trembled, and I gripped the wall until my knuckles whitened.
“You’ll see the consequences if she falters,” Seraphine said, voice lower now. “Do not fail me. Do not fail yourself.”
The shadow figure moved, slow, deliberate, and I felt it before I saw it. A faint shift in the air, the scent of something cold, metallic, not entirely human. My pulse raced. Whoever it was, they had been closer than I realized. I hadn’t heard their footsteps until now because they wanted me to.
I realized with horror that I had been caught peeking. Even if they hadn’t seen my face, they would know someone had eavesdropped. My mind spun, panic threatening to undo my careful control.
I pressed myself tighter against the wall, trying to flatten, to disappear. The wolf snapped in my mind, frustration spilling into a dull ache behind my eyes, trying to force me to move, to fight, but I couldn’t. Not yet.
“Do you think she suspects?” the shadow repeated, almost mockingly, as if hearing the answer mattered.
“No,” Seraphine said. “Not yet. But she will. And then…” Her words trailed off, leaving a chill, a void filled with intent.
I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood, tasting fear more than anything else. My pulse roared in my ears, making it hard to hear my own thoughts. I had to leave. I had to go, and yet, my body refused to cooperate fully. Step by step, inch by inch, I tried to retreat, but the hallway felt longer, darker than before.
A sudden creak behind me froze me mid-motion. Not accidental. Not careless. I pressed my body flat, letting the wolf coil tightly, restrained, silent but aware, and tried to listen. Footsteps, slow, measured, deliberate. Someone else had entered the hall.
I swallowed hard, tasting copper, ash, panic, and the faint trace of herbs. My heart pounded erratically. I had to move, had to disappear before they realized I was there. Every muscle burned, and yet I forced one trembling step forward, another.
The paper. I needed the paper. Whoever it was, they had left a trail I could follow. It was proof, a clue. My wolf twisted inside me, angry, snapping at the edges of my mind, begging to break free, to protect, to strike. I clenched my teeth and held her back.
A shadow flickered at the end of the hall. I couldn’t see a face. I couldn’t see hands. Just presence, deliberate, watching. I froze, trying to calm my racing pulse, my trembling body. The intruder stepped closer, closer, and then...
A soft click, a faint metallic scrape that sounded like a knife sliding across stone.
I knew then that this was no ordinary spy or servant. This was someone who had been planning, watching, waiting for me. My heart hammered, my stomach knotted, and I swallowed the scream that threatened to escape.
The paper. The words. The threat. All of it was real, and the danger was closer than I had ever imagined.
My wolf hissed in frustration, restrained but fully aware, and I pressed my back against the wall, trying to vanish, trying to make myself nothing. I could feel the intruder’s gaze, cold and calculating, piercing the dim light, and I knew one thing:
They had come for me. And I had nowhere to hide.
- Writer
