The Calling

Chapter 5

It was just a dream. But it hadn't felt like one.

A soft knock came at the door.

"Clara?" Janine's voice was gentle. "May I come in?"

I quickly wipe my face and swing my legs over the side of the bed. "Y-yeah."

The door opens and Janine steps inside carrying a wooden tray. Steam curls from a mug of coffee. Scrambled eggs, toast, fresh berries. Folded neatly over her arm is a bundle of clothes. Jeans, a soft gray sweater, and socks.

"You look like you've run a mile," Janine said, setting the tray down on the small desk near the window. Her sharp eyes soften. "Bad dreams?"

I hesitate. The white wolf. The black wolf. The Shadow Realm swallowing me whole. "Just...weird," I mutter.

Janine didn't press. "Eat, You'll feel steadier."

I hadn't realized how hungry I was until the smell hit me properly. I eat quickly at first, then slowed down when I noticed Janine watching me. Not suspiciously, but carefully. Assesing.

"Thank you," I said after finishing, wrapping my hands around the warm mug.

"You're welcome." Janine nods toward the folded clothes. "Those should fit well enough. Tyler insisted on something practical." A faint smile tugs on her lips. "He's very particular."

That made my stomach tighten. As if summoned by the thought, there's a firmer knock. Janine moves to the door and opens it.

Tyler stands in the hallway, posture rigid, jaw set. Behind him leaned Jack, arms crossed but an expression more neutral than severe.

"We're ready," Tyler said, eyes flicking past Janine to me. I stood slowly. Janine gives me a brief, reassuring look. "I'll be nearby." I'm not sure if that makes me feel better or worse.

---

Tyler's office is on the main floor. Larger than I expected. Dark wood shelves line the walls, filled with books and thick binders. A large desk dominates the room, but Tyler doesn't sit behind it. He stands beside it instead, as if the furniture are just another tool. Jack shuts the door behind us with a quiet click.

I suddenly feel very small.

"Sit," Tyler said, gesturing to a chair in the front of the desk. I obeyed. Jack takes up a position near the wall, but I notice he angled himself slightly between me and the door. Not threatening. Just...strategic. Tyler folds his arms.

"We're going to ask you some questions," he said. His tone was calm, too calm. Controlled. "And I need you to understand something clearly." I swallow.

"We can smell fear," Jack adds, though his voice isn't unkind. "And lies." My pulse immediately spikes.

"Tyler shoots Jack a brief look, not annoyed, but measuring, before returning his attention to me.

"Luna Janine told you who we are last night?" Tyler started. I nod. "Good, so we can skip that part," no pleasantries then. "Where did you get the moonstone, Clara?"

There it is. I hesitate, fingers gripping the fabric of my borrowed jeans.

"I bought it from a thrift store yesterday," I answer honestly. Not telling the whole truth. They eye me suspiciously.

"What store?" Tyler continued.

"It's a new store that opened a couple of weeks ago, Trinkets of Time."

"Did you just randomly find the necklace in this shop, or did it find you?" My heart begins to race. That's an odd question. But not entirely off base.

I explain to Tyler and Jack exactly as it happened at the store. The necklace drawing me in, the way I felt when I looked at it—touched it. I told them about the older woman, the store owner of the shop.

Jack finally speaks up. "Do you know the store owner's name?"

"I believe she said her name is Celeste."

"Let's talk a bit about your family," Tyler pressed on. My family. "What's your last name, Clara?"

That one's easy, "Hawthorne." They exchange glances, both faces showing disbelief. Disbelief into what, however, I am unsure.

"And your immediate family's names?" I contemplate on giving fake names until I remember I had given Janine their names last night. I'm sure they already know and are testing me. I may as well just give them everything at this rate.

"My mom's name is Holly Hawthorne. She just turned 54 yesterday." My voice steady as I continue, "I have an older sister, Marissa Hawthorne. She is 25. And then there is my younger sister, Jenn Hawthorne. She is 21."

"And your father?" I knew this question was going to come up, and I don't have an answer for it.

"I don't know who..." I started but was immediately cut off with a low growl. "I'm not lying," I say quickly. "I don't know who he is. Mom says he left when she was 8 months pregnant with Jenn. I was only 2."

Tyler studied me for a long time.

Jack pushes off the wall, less guarded now but still cautious. "You need to understand something, Clara. That stone doesn't just belong to someone by coincidence." My stomach dropped.

Tyler straightens. "Until we know more, you will remain here. Under supervision."

"Supervision?" I echo.

"For your safety," Jack added. "And ours."

I feel the walls of the office closing in, like the shadows in my dream. Watched. Waiting. And somewhere, deep in my memory, the echo of a wolf's howl lingers like a warning.

...

Holly

Mid-afternoon sunlight spills in long golden bars across the cracked pavement outside Clara's apartment building. The world feels too still. Clara's car is parked in the same spot she always parks. I stand at the entrance, fingers tightening around my phone. Six missed calls. Three texts unread. Clara never ignored me for this long. After the heavy feeling of magic coming from Clara's car last night, I have been worried.

A sharp wind stirs at my ankles though the air had been calm moments before. I exhale slowly, forcing the breeze back into nothingness. I couldn't afford to draw attention, not here. Not in the human realm.

Not when the Shadows could be watching.

I climb the stairs, each step echoing louder than it should. The wards I had quietly woven into my daughters' lives for years hummed faintly in my senses—threads of concealment, carefully crafted from the moment I fled the Shadow Realm 8 months pregnant and terrified. Eight months pregnant and alone.

My hand hovers over Clara's door before I knock. Once. Twice. "Clara," I whisper, pressing my palm to the wood.

The magic masking my daughter's lineage had always been delicate work. A constant spell to hide what they are from dark magic witches who would bleed them dry for their power. From the Shadows who wanted what I possessed—and what my daughters inherited.

Air.

Water.

Fire.

Earth.

Four elements. Four bloodlines bound into one family. And beneath it all...the question I had never answered.

Wolf.

I closed my eyes and let a fraction of my true power slip free. The air inside the apartment responds instantly, rushing to my call. Wind spirals under the door frame, slipping through the cracks like a living thing. It searches, swirling through rooms, lifting papers, brushing curtains. Empty. But not untouched.

The wind carries back a scent of burnt air. Singed fabric. Something sharp and ancient that did not belong to this realm. My heart shutters. Fire. Clara.

My daughter has never known she can command flames. I had buried that truth beneath layers of spell work when Clara was just a child, after the first time candles had bent toward her without being lit.

If Clara's power has awakened—if the masking spells have weakened. The Shadows will feel it.

A stronger gust burst the door open with a violent crack. I step inside. The apartment looks mostly intact, but subtle signs tell me a different story. A lamp has shattered near the wall. The air is dry—too dry. Heat still lingers in the ceiling.

"She's not here," I murmured. My mind drifted, unbidden, to him.

To the Shadow Realm.

To the night they took my mate.

He had been strong. Alpha-born. A werewolf of rare bloodline. When the Shadows came for him, he had fought like a storm given flesh. I had felt his howl tear through the Veil between realms as I escaped, belly heavy with Jenn. They wanted his strength. They wanted my magic. And when they learned our daughters carried both...

Elemental witches with wolf forms. Unstoppable. Eactly what the Shadows would want to control.

A sudden draft coils around my wrist, tugging toward the hallway. I follow it to Clara's bedroom. The bed was unmade. The window cracked open. I crouch down on the floor near the dresser, I place my hand on the floor and close my eyes. My breath caught in fear. I know exactly where Clara is. The Shadow Realm.

I rise swiftly, eyes flashing with ancient power. The air in the room thickens, spinning into an invisible barrier around the apartment. A protective ward layered over the old concealment spell.

If the Shadows sense Clara's awakening, they will come. And if they have already found her....my jaw set.

They had taken my mate. They will not take my daughter.

A violent gust exploded outward from the building, rattling windows down the block. In the quiet hallway outside, neighbors would only feel a strange breeze.

But far beyond this realm, in the darkness between worlds, the wind howled a warning.

Holly Hawthorne is no longer hiding.