Chapter 3:Drawn to Darkness
1372 Words
Layla's POV
I didn’t move at first.
The storm still roared outside, but inside, everything had gone still. It was as if time had folded in on itself the moment I saw him.
Those eyes—ember-bright and impossible—still burned behind my lids, even now.
Not a dream.
Not this time.
I reached out, bracing my hand against the door. My palm pressed into the wood like I could still feel the echo of him out there… watching. Waiting.
My pulse thrummed—restless, searching. My skin tingled like something inside me had been lit on fire and was now trying to find its way out.
I should’ve locked the door. I should’ve turned around, gone to bed, and convinced myself it was the grief or the storm or both.
But instead—
I opened it.
The wind slammed into me, cold and unforgiving, carrying with it the scent of rain and something else—earthy.
Metallic.
Wild.
I stepped outside.
The storm had swallowed the yard whole.
Trees bowed and groaned under the weight of the wind. Leaves whipped by like shrapnel.
The sky pulsed with lightning, the brief flashes lighting the world in stuttering frames like a broken film reel.
I stood in it, searching.
I didn’t know what I was hoping to see.
The figure?
A shape in the dark?
Proof that I hadn’t imagined the pull in my chest?
The fire in his eyes?
Or maybe I wanted it all to be a dream.
Something I could shake off by morning.
I wasn’t sure what I feared more—finding nothing out here, or finding him...
A jagged bolt of lightning carved across the sky.
And nothing...
Just trees. Mud. Shadows.
But I wasn’t alone.
I felt it, crawling across my skin, burrowing into the base of my spine.
Something watched me.
The wind howled. Thunder cracked, close this time.
I flinched, my heartbeat wild in my ears.
But I didn’t run. I moved forward, off the porch, down the steps, into the yard, the mud pulling at my boots, rain soaking me to the bone.
Maybe I was finally losing it.
I hadn’t slept more than a few hours in months.
My thoughts were unraveling, the edges fraying like old thread.
Every emotion was raw, scraped open by grief that no longer whispered—it screamed.
It had teeth now.
But then I heard it.
Not the wind.
Not the trees bending under the weight of the storm.
Something else.
A low, rumbling growl.
I froze. My breath caught, lodging high in my throat.
My heart slammed against my ribs, wild and uneven.
Wolves.
That was my first thought. But this sound—it was different.
Too deep. Too heavy.
It reverberated in my bones, humming under my skin like it recognized me.
I turned toward the trees, heart pounding.
Lightning split the sky.
And for a heartbeat, I saw it.
A silhouette—massive and still—lurking just beyond the edge of the yard.
Before my mind could catch up, my body moved.
Something inside me snapped taut, pulling me forward as if I were on a string.
Curiosity. Madness. Or something else entirely.
I didn’t know what it was. Only that I couldn’t stop.
The cold barely registered now.
I only saw him.
A massive wolf stepped into view, eyes glowing with that same amber fire that haunted my dreams.
Not a normal wolf.
This one was impossibly large, with fur the color of midnight. Shimmering streaks of silver traced his back, glinting in the rain like starlight.
Power radiated off him—raw and wild. But it was his eyes that drew me in.
Amber.
Exactly the same glowing eyes as the ones from my dreams—the stranger with the fire in his gaze.
I would recognize those eyes anywhere.
They weren’t just familiar—they were etched into my soul, threaded through my bones like they'd always been a part of me.
They didn’t frighten me.
They claimed me.
Every instinct I had screamed at me to run.
But I was rooted, caught in that glowing gaze, unable to tear myself away.
It wasn’t fear that held me there.
It was longing.
Like he knew me.
Like I knew him.
The storm roared, thunder crashing so loud it rattled my bones, but the world around us had gone quiet.
Still. Suspended. Caught in some magnetic pull that defied logic.
I took a step closer.
His growl rumbled again—low, warning, but not threatening.
I stopped, breath shallow.
My heart thundered, not from fear... but from something else.
Something deeper.
Then, just as suddenly, he turned—his massive form melting into the shadows between the trees, vanishing into the storm like he’d never been there.
Gone.
Just like that.
Only darkness remained.
My eyes strained to find him again, but there was nothing.
Just the storm, the rain, and the empty darkness where he had stood moments ago.
He had vanished like a phantom, leaving me standing there, soaked and confused, my heart racing in my chest.
Suddenly, I realized how far I’d gone from the house.
The trees pressed in now, unfamiliar and ominous in the stormlight.
The wind cut sharper. The mud sucked at my steps.
I turned, squinting through the rain.
The faint outline of the porch light flickered in the distance like a beacon.
I wrapped my arms around myself and started the slow, slippery walk back.
Each step felt heavier.
The rain blurred my vision, and the chill bit deeper into my skin.
But it was the weight of those eyes that stayed with me—burning in my chest like a brand.
What was I doing?
I stumbled up the steps, boots leaving thick trails of mud, and slammed the door behind me.
My hands trembled as I fumbled with the lock.
Leaning back against the door, I exhaled shakily, my chest heaving, trying to catch my breath and make sense of what had just happened.
That wolf. Those eyes...
It had felt so surreal, so... impossible.
And yet something inside me stirred—an unsettling, unmistakable feeling of recognition.
I was seeing something... lost.
Something that's always been mine.
I pressed my back harder against the door, closing my eyes, trying to still the chaotic swirl of thoughts in my head.
My clothes clung to me, soaked and heavy, my skin cold from the rain.
But it wasn’t the cold that left me trembling.
Those eyes.
I had never felt so drawn to something so dangerous.
So wild. And yet... it felt like he was waiting for me.
As I made my way down the darkened hallway, the weight of those amber eyes followed every step.
Somewhere, buried deep in the recesses of my memory, Gran’s words echoed louder than ever.
There are things in this world that don’t belong in the light, Layla. Some shadows are far more dangerous than they seem...
I shook off the thought with a shiver, flipping the switch in the bathroom. The light flickered once, twice, then cast a dim glow over the small space.
The shower hissed to life, steam curling around me.
As I leaned against the sink and met my own reflection in the fogged mirror—pale, shaken, haunted.
Tomorrow...
Tomorrow, I will deal with all of it.
The funeral, the house, the memories that wouldn’t let me go.
It's all on me now.
I was the only one left.
I just needed to get through the night, or what little was left of it, anyway.
As the water cascaded over me, washing away the mud and the cold, I tried to focus on the warmth. The safety of routine. The silence of the house.
But it was no use.
I could still feel him—it—out there.
Not just watching.
Waiting.
Something had shifted tonight. Something inside me. Around me. Like a door had opened, and now… something was coming through.
I wasn’t imagining it.
I wasn’t alone.
And deep down, beneath the fear and the grief and the disbelief, a terrifying truth took root.
Part of me didn’t want to run.
Part of me wanted to follow.
- Writer
