The Keeper's Guardian

Chapter 7: Whispers in the mist

Kaelen POV

The fog clung to my skin like a second layer—damp, cold, suffocating. Even breathing felt like trying to swallow steam. Every inhale was thick with moss, old bark, and something more... something watching.

The forest was still. Too still. Like the trees were holding their breath, waiting for something to go wrong.

Even Variant, usually alert and softly whining with excitement, had gone silent the moment their boots crossed the edge of the property. Not a growl, not a whimper. Just that eerie, tense silence.

I should’ve known it would be like this. Mornings in the Drakensberg always felt like stepping into the lungs of something ancient. And right now, it felt like we were being inhaled.

A twig snapped under Sebastian’s boots, loud enough to shatter the hush.

He didn’t flinch. Didn't notice—or didn’t care—that the woods were alive and listening. Typical.

I moved ahead, careful and quiet. He followed like a storm, every step of his echoing too loud in the fog-drenched silence.

“You’re gonna wake the whole damn town,” I muttered.

Sebastian snorted. “You wanna tiptoe around like we’re hunting butterflies, be my guest. But we’ve got maybe an hour before the fog lifts and daylight screws this whole thing. After that, this was just a waste of time.”

He wasn’t wrong. Still it didn’t make me feel better about breaking into the house of a girl who’d just lost the only family she had left.

“No,” I muttered, jaw tight. “We just have time to ransack the home of a grieving girl, whose grandmother hasn’t even been buried yet.”

He didn’t answer. He never did when he knew I was right.

Sebastian didn't care about the mess we left behind, as long as we got what we came for. But this wasn’t just a job for me, not anymore. And it hadn’t been since I laid eyes on her.

"She doesn't know anything, Kaelen," Sebastian said, like that made it better. "We're just confirming that.”

"Yeah," I whispered. “Right.”

The house was quiet as we reached it, tucked between mossy trees and half-forgotten fences. There was something eerie about how still everything felt. The only movement was the shifting fog and the pounding of my heart in my chest.

Sebastian reached the back door, glanced at me. “Ready?”

I wasn’t.

Still, I nodded as we slipped inside.

Her scent hit me like a punch to the chest—wildflowers crushed underfoot, rain on warm skin, spring clinging to every breath. It wrapped around me, sank into my bones, tangled around something ancient and hungry inside me.

Variant didn’t stir.

I thought for sure Layla's presence would have him clawing for control again.

But nothing...

Not a growl. Not a whisper.

Just silence.

That didn’t stop the fire that lit my veins, though. The magnetic pull was dragging me deeper into the house—and into her orbit.

There were photos lining the hallway—sepia-toned memories, generations of eyes staring down at us like ghosts. Watching. Judging.

Sebastian kept moving, low and efficient. “Let’s start at the study,” he whispered.

Quick in. Quick out.

That was the plan.

Except nothing about this felt simple anymore.

The sun had shifted just enough to lighten the edges of the fog outside the window, casting pale silver over the room like a warning.

Still nothing. No sign of the necklace.

That’s when I felt it—a shift, sudden and electric. Like a string pulled taut in my chest. . A flicker in the bond. The sudden awareness that I wasn’t just breathing her in—I was feeling her.

I tensed.

She was awake.

I turned to Sebastian, tried to get his attention through the link. She’s up.

He didn’t respond. Too busy rummaging through Anna Maria’s desk drawers like this wasn’t turning into a disaster.

And then—I saw her.

Layla.

Fuck me.

Everything else dropped away. Time. Logic. Control.

She stood at the end of the hall, barefoot, curls a wild halo around her face, drowning in an oversized T-shirt that skimmed her thighs. She looked like a storm I wanted to walk into and never leave.

I couldn’t move.

Couldn’t think.

Hell, I wasn’t even sure I was breathing.

The floor creaked beneath my heel—loud, sharp.

I tried to link Sebastian again. We need to go. Now!

But it was too late.

Crash.

It came from the kitchen.

I wasn’t paying attention. It was like someone had knocked the air from my lungs. I didn’t notice a damn thing around me, not until I knocked over something— My elbow clipped the side table. It toppled to the floor.

The sound snapped me back. Sebastian’s glare was a knife to the throat. “What the hell was that?” he hissed through the link.

“She’s coming.”

Footsteps.

We barely made it out the front door when I felt her eyes lock onto me—blazing, furious.

She wasn’t just startled.

She was ready to kill.

She stepped into the hallway light, gripping an old cane like a weapon, legs trembling but stubborn as hell. Her voice cracked through the fog. “Hey! Stop!”

“Just keep moving,” Sebastian ordered.

I did. But it felt wrong.

“We shouldn’t have come back,” I muttered.

Sebastian didn’t turn around. “We didn’t have a choice.”

“She just lost her grandmother,” I said, my voice low, raw. “And we broke into her house.”

He paused, finally glancing over his shoulder. “We didn’t break in. The door was unlocked.”

I stared at him.

He sighed. “Look, I don’t like this any more than you do. But if we don’t find the necklace before someone else does—someone who won’t hesitate to hurt her—we’re screwed.”

I didn’t argue. Couldn’t. Because he wasn’t wrong.

A sudden creak cracked through the fog. We both froze.

A door.

I turned—and there she was.

Layla stepped out onto the porch, barefoot, curls wild, one hand clenched around that cane like it was a sword.

Her eyes locked on mine, and something flickered. A spark of recognition—quick and sharp, like a blade glinting in low light. She didn’t know me. Not really. But some part of her did. And gods help me, I felt it too.

“She followed us,” I whispered.

Sebastian exhaled like it was amusing. “Brave girl.”

“Hey!” she shouted, her voice shaking but loud enough to cut the mist. “Get back here!”

I hesitated. My whole body froze, pulse spiking.

Sebastian didn’t even flinch. “Persistent too. I like her.”

“Not helping,” I hissed.

Layla moved closer, steady and furious. “Stop!” she barked.

Sebastian turned to me, voice low and serious now. “Pull yourself together. You’re the Guardian. She’s the Keeper. You don’t get to lose your head over her.”

I swallowed hard as Layla closed the gap. Her eyes flicked between us, but settled—of course—on me.

“What the hell were you doing in my house?”

I lifted my hands, palms open. “I’m sorry. We didn’t mean to scare you.”

She took a step forward, her voice like fire over ice. “Answer me!”

My name left my mouth before I could stop it, rough, low—like gravel laced with velvet. “I’m Kaelen.”

Her eyes didn’t waver. There was a pull between us—intense, magnetic.

Sebastian, ever the smooth one, stepped forward with a flash of that predator grin. “Sebastian. Didn’t mean to scare you. We were just… finishing some work.”

Her expression shifted. Grief slammed into her so hard, it hurt to watch. She looked like her legs might buckle, but she held herself up, fierce and furious.

“Work?” she echoed. Her voice cracked at the edges, thick with something heavier than grief. “For my grandmother?”

Sebastian hesitated. Just long enough. “Yeah. She asked us to handle a few things last week.”

The air went still. The mist hung like breath held too long.

“She died yesterday.”

She threw the words like a weapon.

“I don’t care what she asked. There’s no reason for you to be here.”

Silence pressed in on all sides.

Sebastian’s grin faltered. “Must’ve been a... mix-up.”

“You’re lying,” she said coldly. And it hit harder than it should’ve.

I flinched. Barely. But enough.

“This isn’t what it looks like,” I said.

“Then tell me what it is,” she shot back.

I couldn’t.

Not yet.

Before I could think of an answer, it came.

A whisper.

“Layla.”

It didn’t come from me. Or Sebastian.

It slid through the fog like oil—coiling, feral, wrong. It wasn’t just a sound. It was a presence. Pressure.

Variant didn’t stir… just silence.

That silence—that stillness—scared me more than anything.

Sebastian’s grin slipped. Good. He felt it too.

She heard it. I saw the way she stiffened.

I stepped forward. “Get inside, Layla.”

She didn’t move. Just stared, trying to read the truth on my face.

“You don’t know what that was,” I said gently. “But I do.”

Not the name. Not the shape. Not yet.

But I know its hunger.

It doesn’t belong here.

And it’s looking for something.

It’s looking for Layla…

Layla stepped back, eyes scanning the forest behind me. I could feel her panic spike, even from here.

Her breath hitched. I saw it—the shift in her. A flicker of trust.

Sebastian recovered first. “It’s just the wind,” he said smoothly. “Strange things happen in these woods.”

The way Layla was looking at us now—like she knew there was more going on than we were letting on—it made the weight on my chest grow heavier.

I dropped my gaze, unable to meet her eyes anymore, while Sebastian adjusted his jacket, already moving on from the conversation. “Look,” he said, sounding all business now, “we’re sorry for any trouble. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to call us. We’re… around.”

I shot him a confused glance, wondering what the hell he was up to now. But he didn’t seem to care about my confusion, and when I glanced back at Layla, I saw the tension in her grip on that cane. She wasn’t going to let this go.

“Your grandmother should have our details written down somewhere,” Sebastian added, a cryptic edge to his voice that made me even more uncomfortable.

Layla didn’t respond, just stood there, clutching that cane like it was the only thing grounding her. I felt like I was unraveling in front of her, every second spent under her gaze stretching out painfully.

Sebastian gave me a nudge, and I knew it was time to leave. Without another word, we turned and started back down the path, the mist closing in around us. I could feel Layla’s eyes on us the whole way, burning into my back.

We were barely a few steps into the trees when I felt the tug—Sebastian, linking me.

We need to figure out what the hell that was, he said, his mental voice low and tight.

The connection snapped shut, but the chill it left behind lingered.