The white-golden wolf

I woke before dawn. For one blissful second, I didn't remember why my heart was racing. Then the dream returned. Fire. Smoke. The desperate clash of steel against steel. The scent of blood so thick it clung to every breath. I was running. Bare feet struck cold earth as branches tore at my skin. Somewhere behind me, screams shattered the night. I wanted to stop. I wanted to turn around. But a strong hand gripped my shoulder. My father's face appeared through the smoke. Or what remained of my memory of him. Dark eyes. Blood streaked across his cheek. Fear. I'd never seen fear in his eyes before that night. "Run, Little Moon." His voice echoed through the darkness of my mind, just as it had every night for the past five years. "Don't look back." "Papa—" "Go!" Something moved behind him. Not a wolf. Not a man. Something darker. Too tall. Too still. Two pale eyes opened within the smoke. And looked directly at me. I woke with a gasp. My hand flew to my chest. For several seconds, I couldn't breathe. My room was dark and quiet. No fire. No screams. No blood. Only the faint ticking of the clock beside my bed. A sob caught in my throat. I reached instinctively for the silver pendant resting against my chest and curled my fingers around it. The metal was cool. Solid. Real. Unlike the dream. I squeezed my eyes shut until my breathing slowed. "It was only a memory," I whispered. But memories had a way of feeling alive. Especially the ones you never escaped. And lately, something about the dream had changed. Those eyes. I didn't remember seeing them before. Maybe my mind had invented them. Maybe nightmares changed as people did. Still... I couldn't shake the feeling that whatever had been watching me through the smoke hadn't belonged to the past. "You know..." Clarissa's sleepy voice drifted through my thoughts. "I preferred the part where we were sleeping." Despite everything, a small smile tugged at my lips. "Good morning to you too." "Morning?" she grumbled. "It should still be the middle of the night." "It's six-thirty." "Exactly. Far too early for responsible wolves." A quiet laugh escaped me. Clarissa always knew how to chase away the shadows lingering after a nightmare. "Feeling better?" she asked gently. I looked toward the window, where the first pale light of dawn filtered through the curtains. "A little." "You're lying." "I know." Silence filled my mind for a moment. Then Clarissa spoke again. "Those eyes weren't there before." My fingers tightened around the pendant. So she'd noticed too. "No." "Do you remember them?" "No." That answer came too quickly. Clarissa knew it. I knew it. But neither of us said anything. "One day you'll tell me everything you remember," she murmured. "I don't remember enough." That was the cruelest part. Some memories remained painfully clear. Others had disappeared forever. Faces blurred. Voices faded. Entire pieces of that night existed only as empty spaces in my mind. Only fear remained untouched by time. I climbed out of bed and crossed toward the window. Outside, the valley lay beneath a thin layer of morning mist. Pine trees covered the distant hills, their dark shapes stretching toward the brightening sky. Everything looked peaceful. Normal. Then Clarissa went completely silent. I froze. "Clarissa?" Nothing. My wolf was never silent. Annoying? Frequently. Dramatic? Absolutely. Silent? Never. "Clarissa." "There's something outside." My pulse quickened. "Where?" "I don't know." Her voice had changed. No teasing. No sleepiness. Only alertness. I moved closer to the glass. The garden was empty. Beyond it stood the tree line. Still. Dark. Watching. A strange chill crawled over my skin. For half a second, I thought I saw something between the trees. A shadow. Tall and motionless. My breath caught. Then the mist shifted. Nothing was there. "Did you see that?" "Yes." "What was it?" "I don't know." That frightened me more than anything. Clarissa usually had an answer. Even when she was wrong, she had one. A knock sounded at my bedroom door. I jumped. "Lara?" Mary's warm voice carried through the wood. "Breakfast is almost ready." I exhaled slowly. "I'll be down in a minute." "And don't think I didn't hear you talking to yourself." Heat rushed to my cheeks. "I wasn't talking to myself." "Technically..." Clarissa chimed in, sounding more like herself again. "You were talking to me." I rolled my eyes. "Go back to sleep." "Not a chance." I looked toward the trees once more. Nothing. Just mist. Just shadows. Just my imagination. At least, that was what I told myself. After showering, I dressed in my usual work clothes—a navy blouse tucked neatly into a charcoal pencil skirt. Simple. Professional. Forgettable. Exactly how I liked it. The girl staring back at me from the mirror looked composed. No one would guess she'd spent the last ten minutes trying not to cry. Or staring through her bedroom window at something that might not have existed. I brushed a loose strand of black hair behind my ear before fastening the silver moon pendant beneath my blouse. It rested over my heart. The only thing I had left from my parents. I never took it off. As my fingers released the pendant, something strange happened. The silver warmed against my skin. I frowned. For a moment, I simply stood there. Then I touched it again. Cold. I stared at my reflection. "Did you feel that?" "Feel what?" "The pendant." Clarissa hesitated. "No." Of course she hadn't. I was probably imagining things. Nightmares did that. They made ordinary shadows look like monsters and harmless sounds feel like warnings. I grabbed my bag. "Coffee." "Finally, something sensible." The scent of fresh coffee drifted up the staircase, followed by bacon and cinnamon. Mary. Even after all these years, she believed every problem in life could be improved with breakfast. She wasn't always wrong. As I reached the kitchen, Kevin was already seated at the table, balancing three pancakes on his plate. Three. Mary hadn't even sat down yet. I folded my arms. "Planning to leave the rest of us any food?" Kevin looked at me with exaggerated innocence. "I have no idea what you're talking about." Clarissa snorted. "He's lying." "Obviously." Kevin reached for a fourth pancake. I smacked his hand away. "Those are mine." "You snooze, you lose." "I've been awake for an hour." "Then you should've come downstairs sooner." Mary laughed as she placed another stack of pancakes on the table. "I swear, the two of you haven't grown up at all." Kevin pointed toward me. "She started it." "I absolutely did." Mary shook her head fondly. "I walked into that one." For the first time that morning, the weight on my chest eased. This was home. Not because of the walls. Not because of the house. Because of the people sitting around the table. Five years ago, I had lost my family. Mary and Kevin had given me another one. No matter what happened in the future, that was a gift I could never repay. Kevin glanced at me over his coffee. "You had the dream again." It wasn't a question. I nodded once. His smile disappeared. "They're getting worse, aren't they?" Before I could answer, Mary reached across the table and rested her hand over mine. "You don't have to talk about it." I looked at the woman who had raised me like her own daughter. Kindness had always been her greatest strength. Sometimes I wondered how someone who had suffered so much could still have such a gentle heart. "I'm okay," I said. Mary smiled sadly. "No, sweetheart. You've simply become very good at pretending." Her words settled over the room like a quiet truth no one wanted to argue with. Kevin leaned back in his chair. "Was it the same dream?" "Mostly." "Mostly?" I looked down at my plate. Clarissa stirred uneasily inside me. "There was something different." Mary's hand went still over mine. It was subtle. So subtle I might have missed it if I hadn't been looking directly at her. "What?" she asked. I frowned. "Something in the smoke." Kevin stopped chewing. Mary withdrew her hand. "What kind of something?" "I don't know." "Lara." There was something strange in Mary's voice. Not curiosity. Fear. My stomach tightened. "Mary?" She forced a smile. "I'm sorry. It's just... you know how I worry." Clarissa immediately spoke inside my mind. "She's lying." I knew. Mary stood and carried her mug toward the sink even though it was still half full. "What did you see?" she asked without turning around. "Eyes." The mug slipped from her hand. It struck the edge of the sink. Coffee splashed across the counter. For one heartbeat, nobody moved. "Mary?" "I'm fine." She grabbed a cloth. Kevin frowned. "You sure?" "Of course." But her hands were trembling. I pushed my chair back. "Mary, what's wrong?" "Nothing." "You dropped your cup when I mentioned the eyes." "It slipped." "Mary—" A sudden howl cut through the morning. Every muscle in my body locked. It came from somewhere beyond the house. Low. Deep. Wrong. Kevin slowly lowered his fork. "What the hell was that?" Mary went pale. Clarissa surged forward inside me. "That wasn't one of ours." I stood. Another howl rolled through the valley. Closer this time. The windows trembled faintly. Then silence. Not normal silence. No birds. No rustling leaves. Nothing. As if the entire forest had stopped breathing. Mary turned toward the window. For the first time since I'd known her, I saw something in her expression I couldn't explain. Recognition. "No," she whispered. My heart began to pound. "What?" Mary didn't answer. "Mary, what is it?" Her gaze dropped to my chest. To the pendant hidden beneath my blouse. Then she looked into my eyes. "We need to get you out of here." The room seemed to tilt. "What are you talking about?" Kevin stood so quickly his chair scraped against the floor. "Mom?" Before Mary could answer, Clarissa's voice tore through my mind. "Lara." I went still. She sounded terrified. "What?" Her next words were barely a whisper. "Something just crossed the boundary." My blood turned cold. Outside, the morning sun climbed above the trees, bathing the valley in golden light. It should have looked beautiful. Safe. Like the beginning of an ordinary day. Instead, somewhere deep in the forest, something moved between the trees. Something that had spent five years searching. And somehow... I knew it had finally found me.