A Flicker in the Dark
962 Words
Chapter Three:
Silver's POV-
I hit the ground hard, skidding across cold stone.
I sucked in a sharp breath, coughing, feeling the shift in the air.
No more chimes.
No more walls.
No more Alica.
I stumbled to my feet, dizzy, looking around.
I was standing in a small town — narrow cobblestone streets, dim lanterns swaying in the misty night air.
Shadows of old buildings loomed around me, unfamiliar and quiet.
I made it.
I was free.
But—
I looked down.
No duffle bag.
No phone.
No car keys.
Nothing.
Everything I came back for... was still in that cursed house.
My throat tightened, a bitter taste in my mouth.
A sharp crack split the night — a magical echo from the place I'd escaped.
And then — faint but clear —
I heard Alica’s furious voice carried across the bond she tried so hard to bind me with:
"You can run, Silver... but the Brotherhood will find you. And when they do..."
A pause.
"We'll end you."
The words slammed into me like knives.
I backed into the shadows of a narrow alley, hands still crackling faintly with magic, heart racing too fast to control.
For the first time in my life, I realized:
I wasn't just surviving anymore.
I was hunted.
And whatever power had awakened inside me...
it was only just beginning.
Six months.
It had been six long months since the night everything changed.
Since the night I tore free.
Since the night I saw him.
The Alpha boy with the piercing blue eyes and the quiet strength that wrapped around me like a blanket in a snowstorm.
I still didn’t know his name.
Only his face.
Only the way my chest ached when I dreamed of him — every night without fail.
The dreams always started the same.
I was running — barefoot, bleeding, the Brotherhood chasing me, Alica and Ryelle's twisted faces snarling behind their hoods.
And then...
I would crash into him.
And for a moment, there would be peace.
Home.
Safe.
Until I woke up.
The bell above the door jingled as I wiped down the café tables, trying not to let my mind drift again.
"Order for pickup," I called, sliding a to-go bag across the counter.
The little internet café — Leo’s Place — was the perfect hiding spot.
Nobody asked questions.
Nobody cared about my violet eyes as long as I made their lattes and rebooted their broken computers.
But lately...
Something had been changing inside me.
Little things at first.
A cut on my hand healing in seconds.
Water responding to my emotions.
The shadows bending around me when I was afraid.
And sometimes, at night, when I was too tired to fight it —
I felt my bones shift in my sleep.
Not into a wolf, like I used to dream of as a kid.
Something older.
Something wild.
It was supposed to be an ordinary afternoon.
Until the pack boys stormed into the street.
I recognized them immediately — even in their human forms.
They moved too fast, too graceful, like wolves barely contained.
Teenagers.
Laughing, shoving, daring each other to race across the road.
I saw the car before they did.
A red sedan barreling around the corner — too fast, tires screeching.
One of the younger wolves — small, no more than fourteen — tripped on the curb and fell into the street.
I didn’t think.
I moved.
Faster than I should have.
I slammed into the boy, knocking him out of the car's direct path — but not fast enough.
The bumper clipped his leg, twisting him onto the pavement with a sickening crack.
The car sped off, leaving a trail of burned rubber behind it.
I dropped to my knees beside the boy, panic flooding me.
He was whimpering, his leg bent horribly at an angle.
I pressed my hands against him instinctively — and the world shifted.
Silver light exploded from my palms, wrapping around his broken bones, his torn skin.
I gasped, feeling the energy leave me — burning, cold, pure — as the boy's injuries healed beneath my hands.
Muscle knitting.
Bones setting.
Blood pulling itself back into his veins.
It was over in seconds.
The boy stared up at me, wide-eyed, trembling.
And then I heard it.
A low, stunned growl behind me.
I whipped my head up.
Standing a few yards away —
The Alpha boy.
The boy from my dreams.
The one I had been searching for across every street and every late-night internet search.
He was real.
And he was looking at me like I had just shattered his entire world.
The Panic
Another boy — older, stronger, furious — came skidding around the corner.
I caught the flash of his furious gold eyes — wolf eyes — and knew immediately:
He had seen everything.
Me healing.
Me glowing.
Me being something I shouldn't be.
Shit.
I staggered to my feet, my heart slamming into overdrive.
The boy I healed was sitting up now, confused and scared but alive.
The Alpha boy took a cautious step forward, reaching toward me like he knew he couldn't let me go again—
But I ran.
I turned and ran as fast as my legs would carry me, slipping through the crowd, dodging between parked cars, disappearing into the labyrinth of the city.
Tears blurred my vision.
Part of me wanted to run back.
Part of me screamed to stay.
That tiny string from six months ago, the one that had bound us together, tugged painfully inside my chest.
"Silver," I thought I heard him whisper on the wind.
But I didn't stop.
Because this time...
Running wasn't just survival.
It was all I had left.
- Writer
