I didn’t ask again.
I couldn’t.
Killian’s eyes held a storm I wasn’t ready to walk into.
So I did what he told me.
I turned around, walked out of the woods, and didn’t look back—though every instinct screamed at me to stay.
To press for more.
To ask what I was.
What they were.
What he meant by “awake.”
But the fear, the eyes, the growl still thrummed through my veins like an aftershock.
By the time I made it home, my hands were shaking.
Not visibly—but just enough to make unlocking the front door feel harder than it should have been.
The house was quiet.
Too quiet.
Mom was working late.
Again.
I went straight to the bathroom and turned on the faucet, splashing cold water on my face like that might snap me out of it—out of the surreal.
But when I looked up at my refl
