HOWLING HEARTS

THREE: SPARKS IN THE DARK

The next morning, Isla awoke with the distant howls still echoing in her mind. The sunlight streaming through the thin curtains did little to shake the eerie feeling that had settled in her chest overnight. There was something unsettling about the stillness of the town at dawn, as if it were holding its breath.

She dressed quickly, deciding to take a walk and explore her new surroundings. Mrs. Braxton had mentioned the town market, and Isla figured she could use some fresh air and supplies. She grabbed her jacket, slipped on her boots, and headed downstairs.

“Off for a stroll?” Mrs. Braxton called from the kitchen, her hands busy kneading dough.

“Just thought I’d look around,” Isla replied, trying to sound casual. “Maybe pick up a few things from the market.”

Mrs. Braxton gave her a long, appraising look. “Stay away from the woods,” she warned, her tone more serious than before. “Especially if you hear the howls. It’s best not to tempt fate.”

Isla offered a weak smile and a nod, unsure of what else to say. The howls had already consumed her thoughts, but she wasn’t sure if she was ready to ask more questions yet. Not until she understood more.

She stepped out into the crisp morning air. The town felt different in the daylight—less eerie, more charming. The narrow streets were lined with small shops and cottages, and a few locals were beginning to emerge from their homes, tending to chores or chatting with neighbors. The distant sound of hammers and saws clanged from one of the buildings at the far end of the street.

Curiosity piqued, Isla decided to head in that direction.

The blacksmith's workshop sat at the edge of town, half-hidden by the shadows of the towering trees that bordered the forest. As she approached, the rhythmic clang of metal against metal grew louder. She paused at the entrance, unsure if she should go in, but the scent of wood smoke and the faint warmth from the forge drew her closer.

She peered inside. The space was dimly lit, filled with tools and half-finished pieces of ironwork hanging from the walls. And there, standing over the anvil with his back to her, was Luca.

His broad shoulders flexed as he swung his hammer down, sparks flying from the glowing iron beneath his hands. His movements were precise, almost graceful, despite the raw strength in each strike. For a moment, Isla was mesmerized by the scene—by him.

She hadn’t expected to run into him so soon, but here he was, the quiet, brooding man who had been watching her from the shadows last night. And now that she saw him up close, the intensity that radiated from him was undeniable.

Before she could turn and leave unnoticed, Luca straightened and set his hammer down. He turned to face her, wiping his hands on his leather apron. His eyes, a piercing shade of green, locked onto hers.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he said, his voice low and gravelly.

Isla blinked, surprised by the bluntness of his words. “I… I was just walking by. I didn’t mean to intrude.”

Luca’s gaze softened slightly, though his expression remained guarded. “This isn’t a place for curious visitors. The forge can be dangerous.”

“I wasn’t planning to stay long,” Isla said, finding her voice. “I just heard the noise and thought I’d take a look. I’m new in town.”

“I know.” His words hung in the air between them, a simple acknowledgment, but they felt loaded with meaning. He hadn’t been lying when he said she shouldn’t be here, but there was something else behind his eyes, something unsaid.

Isla shifted awkwardly, unsure of how to break the tension. “You’re the blacksmith?”

Luca gave a small nod, returning to the anvil as if the conversation were already over. “I am.”

“Your work looks impressive,” she said, trying to fill the silence. She wasn’t sure why she was still standing there, but something about Luca made it hard to walk away.

He grunted in response, not looking up from the iron he was now shaping with his bare hands.

The silence stretched again, and Isla was about to excuse herself when Luca spoke.

“Why did you come to Silver Hollow?”

The question caught her off guard. His tone was flat, but there was a sharpness in his gaze, as though he already knew the answer and was testing her.

“I needed a change of pace,” she said carefully, not wanting to reveal too much. “I thought a small town might help.”

Luca’s lips twitched, a hint of a bitter smile. “This isn’t the kind of town most people come to for a change of pace.”

Isla frowned. “What do you mean?”

He didn’t answer right away, just continued working. Finally, after a long pause, he set down the iron and looked at her again. “There are things here you won’t understand. It’s better if you don’t ask questions.”

Isla’s curiosity flared. “Like the howling?”

Luca’s jaw tightened at the mention of it. “Exactly like that.”

There was something in his voice, a warning that sent a chill down her spine. But Isla wasn’t the type to back down from a mystery. “You know something about it, don’t you?”

Luca’s gaze darkened. “Stay out of it, Isla. The howling… the forest… none of it is your concern.”

Her heart raced at the sound of her name on his lips, the way his voice dropped an octave when he said it. But the chill remained, an undercurrent of danger in his words.

She took a step forward, meeting his gaze head-on. “Maybe it’s already my concern.”

For the first time, Luca’s stoic expression faltered. His eyes flickered with something—fear? Anger? Regret? She couldn’t tell, but it was enough to make her pulse quicken.

“You don’t know what you’re getting into,” he said quietly, his voice barely a whisper. “You don’t want to get involved.”

Isla stood her ground. “What if I do?”

The tension between them thickened, the air crackling with unspoken words. Luca’s fists clenched at his sides, his muscles tensing as if he were fighting some internal battle. For a moment, it seemed like he might say something more, might let her in just enough to understand.

But then he turned back to his work, his shoulders stiff. “Go home, Isla.”

She stared at him for a moment longer, frustration and curiosity swirling inside her. But it was clear the conversation was over.

For now.

Isla turned and left the workshop, her heart pounding in her chest. As she walked back toward the inn, her mind raced with questions. Luca was hiding something—something big. And no matter what he said, she wasn’t going to stop until she found out what it was.