Sky’s POV
I thought that dream would fade like all the others.
It didn’t.
It clung to me.
Every time I blinked, I saw fragments—the glowing forest, the twin moons, that voice inside my head. It wasn’t just a dream.
I was sure of it now.
But I wasn’t ready to talk to Sam about it. Not yet.
That night, Sam didn’t appear when the clock hit midnight.
Odd.
He was never late. His transformation was like clockwork. I checked the box—he was still there, but curled tighter than usual, trembling even in sleep.
“Sam?” I whispered.
No response.
I hesitated, then reached out, touched his tiny body. Cold.
Something was wrong.
1:17 AM
I gave up trying to sleep and sat by the window, headphones on but no music playing. The street was unusually quiet.
Then I saw it.
A figure standing across the street, beneath the lamp post.
Tall. Pale. Cloaked.
Not moving. Not blinking.
Watching.
I froze.
I blinked.
They were gone.
I turned around—and nearly screamed.
A symbol had been burned into the glass of my window. Faint. Circular. Moving slightly, like smoke trapped under the surface.
“What the hell...”
I grabbed my phone. Took a picture. Blinked again.
It disappeared.
Behind me, I heard soft footsteps. I turned—Sam was standing in the doorway now, half-awake, shirtless, eyes glassy and distant.
“Sky…” he whispered. “They found me.”
My blood went cold.
“Who did?”
He looked straight at me, as if seeing through me.
“The ones who cursed me.”