Drawn next Door

ChapterTwo

I come here every year—always around this time, when the wind whispers through the hollowed trees and the moon seems to hang lower in the sky, like it’s listening.

Moonveil Temple.

The most sacred ground in all of Hollows Nyx. The veil between us and our ancestors is said to thin, where the dead still linger like morning fog, watching, guiding, listening.

I come here to see them. Or maybe just to feel them.

Mama used to say the temple is where wolves go when they need answers that no living soul can give. Papa used to say the same thing, only in fewer words. His answers always came through action, through silence. The way he carried himself was like nothing could touch him. Warrior-born, warrior-died.

They’re both buried beneath the roots of the twin oaks behind the temple, their names carved into the bark with care. I trace them every time I come, like the grooves might remember the sound of their voices.

It’s been fourteen years since the war took them.

I was five.

Now, I live with Grandma Elara, the village wisdom. And trust me—she never lets me forget it.

“Bella, your mind is strong. You feel energy before it arrives. You were born for the path of wisdom.”

And every time, I tell her no. I was born for something else.

Something fiercer.

Something with teeth.

“I’m sorry, Mama,” I whisper as I kneel in front of the altar, arms wrapped around myself. “Grandma’s still trying to push me into herbs and prophecy. You’d think after fourteen years, she’d get it. I don’t want to stir potions—I want to wield a blade. I want to guard the Dip like Papa did.”

The cold marble beneath me bites through the layers of my dress, but I don’t move.

“I want to fight,” I say louder, though there’s no one here to hear it but the trees and the spirits. “I want to protect our borders. I want to do something that matters.”

A gust of wind rustles through the open arches, soft and warm, like a whisper against my skin.

“But I still don’t have my wolf.” The words come out like glass in my throat.

I look up at the night sky above the altar’s opening. The moon stares down at me—round, golden, full.

I’m nineteen. My first shift should have come years ago. Most of the others from my age group shifted at fifteen, sixteen at the latest. But not me. Not even a hint.

And in a few days, the Hollow’s Dip Guard will start training the recruits.

With or without a wolf, I’m going. I’ll run drills, I’ll train with a blade, I’ll sweat and bleed if I have to—but I’ll be there.

And yet… I feel the fear clawing at the edges of my chest.

What if I’m never enough?

I lie down on the stone floor, staring up at the intricate carvings on the ceiling. Swirls of moon phases and wolves mid-shift, of spirit animals, of stars. I press my hand over my heart and close my eyes.

“I miss you,” I whisper. “Both of you.”

I didn’t even realize I’d fallen asleep.

Not until a snap pulled me from the edge of dreams.

I sit up slowly, the chill of the stone now unbearable. Another sound—closer this time. A growl. Then a yelp.

My heart leaps into my throat as I scramble to my feet and rush to the edge of the temple. Outside, just beyond the stone steps, chaos unfolds in the clearing.

A black wolf—massive, sleek, and fast—fights off two rogue wolves. They’re smaller, leaner, feral. All snarl and hunger.

But the black wolf?

He’s different.

He moves like smoke—fluid and merciless. Muscles rippling beneath his dark coat, eyes sharp as a blade’s edge. Every strike is precise. Calculated. There’s power in the way he carries himself. Authority.

Then—his eyes find mine.

Amber. Piercing. And far too human.

My breath catches. Something… shifts. Inside me. A hum beneath my skin. My pulse explodes in my ears.

In that heartbeat of stillness, one of the rogues lunges, sinking its teeth into the black wolf’s hind leg.

I gasp, stepping forward instinctively.

But the black wolf doesn’t falter. He whips around, shoving the rogue off with such force that the creature crashes into a tree trunk, limp. Then, in one clean move, he rips the other’s throat open.

Silence follows. Heavy and brutal.

Blood seeps into the earth.

I stare at him, breath short, muscles locked.

He turns to me again.

Something shifts in his posture. Not threatening. Not quite curious either. He takes a step toward me.

I can’t run. My legs won’t move.

My chest tightens, air slipping out of me like sand through a sieve. My hands tremble. Panic builds like a tidal wave. I stagger back, pressing a hand to the tree nearest the temple. I can’t breathe. Can’t think. The ground tilts.

And then—pain.

White-hot and sudden. Shooting through my spine, down my limbs, like fire under my skin. I cry out, doubling over, knees buckling.

It’s happening.

Oh, Moon above—it’s happening.

I’ve heard the stories. I’ve dreamed about this. The first shift. Bones breaking, reshaping. Skin stretching, fur sprouting, lungs tearing and rebuilding. Your human self burns away and something older—something wilder-takes—takes over.

But nothing prepared me for the feel of it.

It’s pain and ecstasy, terror and release, all at once. Like becoming something more than yourself while losing everything you knew.

When my eyes flutter open, I’m no longer alone.

He’s there.

The black wolf. Right in front of me now. His snout inches from my face, his eyes locked on mine.

I can’t stand. My limbs are jelly. I’m trembling, raw, spent.

He leans in, pressing his nose to my neck. Inhales.

The world freezes.

My heart stutters.

Then, without a sound, he turns and walks away.

Leaves me there. Alone.

Relief floods through me, but it’s tangled in confusion and a strange, burning curiosity.

What just happened?

I look down at myself—naked, curled in the grass, my skin slick with sweat and blood.

I shift back. Or my body does it for me, too weak to stay in wolf form longer than a few minutes. My first shift. It took everything from me.

I crawl toward the altar steps, shivering. But something catches my eye.

A shirt.

Folded, neatly, on the temple floor.

A plain black shirt that wasn’t there before.

He left it.

For me.

But… why?

Who was he?

And why did it feel like my whole world just tilted on its axis?