Nightfall Whispers
1506 Words
Night fell fast in the mountains.
The pale midday sun faded into bruised shades of violet as thick clouds rolled back in, swallowing what little warmth had touched the snow. The wind picked up in low, restless gusts—warning the forest that the storm wasn’t done.
Holly didn’t need Rowan to tell her the temperature had dropped again. The cabin walls creaked. Frost etched delicate patterns along the window glass. Even the fire in the stove snapped harsher than before.
She pulled the blanket tighter around her shoulders as she watched Rowan pace the edge of the living room like a caged storm.
His movements were sharper now. Controlled, but barely.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Holly finally asked, voice small in the dim light.
Rowan stopped mid-step, shoulders rising and falling with a breath he tried too hard to steady. “I’m fine,” he said, though his eyes never left the windows.
The tension rolling off him was palpable—like the air before a lightning strike.
Holly swallowed. “This… this is about the animal I saw, isn’t it?”
Rowan’s jaw ticked. “It’s not a normal animal.”
“That wasn’t really my question.”
He finally turned to look at her. Really look at her. His eyes, normally a deep forest green, seemed brighter tonight—like light caught behind them.
“Holly,” he said carefully, “something is moving closer to the cabin. I’m trying to figure out its intention.”
“What kind of ‘something’?”
“A wolf.”
Holly blinked. “But wolves don’t usually come this close to people, do they?”
“No,” he murmured. “Not unless there’s a reason.”
The fire popped violently, making her flinch.
Rowan noticed and crossed the room instantly, kneeling beside the couch. The proximity made everything inside her go warm and unsteady.
“You’re safe,” he murmured. “I won’t let anything hurt you.”
His voice was gravel—soft, deep, and entirely too sincere.
Holly curled the blanket around her fists. “I believe you.”
She didn’t know why she did.
She just did.
Rowan’s jaw clenched again, and he stood too quickly, as if afraid he’d say something he couldn’t take back. He moved toward the front door, checking the lock even though he’d already checked it three times.
“Asher,” he muttered under his breath, “you need to calm down.”
Holly frowned. “Asher?”
Rowan stiffened. “It’s nothing.”
“You keep saying that.” She stood, the blanket slipping from her shoulders. “But clearly it’s not nothing.”
Rowan didn’t turn.
“Holly,” he said, voice tight, “please. Not tonight.”
Before she could push further, a faint crunch sounded outside—the crisp, unmistakable sound of something stepping onto fresh snow.
Holly’s breath caught. “Rowan?”
He moved before she finished the word.
In two strides he was at the window, eyes slicing through the dark.
Then she heard it.
A soft, low whine.
Not threatening.
Not stalking.
Calling.
Her skin prickled—not with fear, but something stranger. Something that made the hair on her arms rise.
“What is that?” she whispered, drifting closer.
Rowan blocked her with an arm. “Stay behind me.”
“Rowan, it’s just—”
“It’s not ‘just’ anything.” His voice was a growl.
She stared at him, startled. She’d seen him angry before—frustrated, tense, stern—but never like this. His pupils had dilated, nearly swallowing the green.
He reached for the door handle.
Holly grabbed his wrist. “Rowan, don’t—what if it attacks you?”
He turned his hand slowly, palm brushing hers in a way that sent a sharp, hot jolt up her arm.
“It won’t,” he said quietly. “Not me.”
He pulled away and stepped outside.
The wind knifed through the doorway, swirling snow into the cabin. Holly hesitated only a second before shoving her boots on and following.
The world was silver-white, the moon trapped behind clouds, turning everything dim and shadowed.
Rowan stood at the bottom of the porch steps, shoulders squared, heartbeat steady—too steady, almost inhumanly controlled.
Holly followed his line of sight.
A wolf stood ten yards away.
Small. Thin. Fur pale brown and streaked with darker markings. Not snarling. Not charging.
Just… staring.
Like she was waiting.
Holly’s chest tightened. “She looks scared.”
Rowan didn’t move. “She’s watching you.”
“That can’t be right,” Holly whispered.
“It is.”
“How do you know?”
Rowan’s silence was answer enough.
Asher surged forward inside him, and for a moment Rowan’s breath hitched like he was fighting something under his skin.
Holly shivered. “Rowan, you’re starting to freak me out.”
He turned his head just enough for her to see the war in his expression.
“You’re not supposed to be near her,” Rowan said. “She shouldn’t be this close to you.”
“Why would she be?”
“Because she’s not feral. And she’s young. And she’s something else entirely.”
Holly swallowed. “Like what?”
Rowan’s mouth tightened.
And then—with no warning—the wolf stepped forward.
Just one step.
Rowan’s voice snapped into a harsh, commanding growl. “Stop.”
The wolf froze instantly.
Holly blinked. “Did… did she understand you?”
Rowan didn’t answer.
His entire body vibrated with restraint, muscles coiled as if every instinct in him screamed to shift, to defend, to position himself between Holly and the female wolf.
“She’s afraid,” Holly whispered.
“She should be,” Rowan said, voice low. “She has no pack. No guidance. She’s barely shifted—she doesn’t know enough to survive alone.”
The young wolf sank slightly, tail curling inward.
Holly’s hand lifted involuntarily. “She’s trembling.”
“Holly,” Rowan warned.
“She’s just scared.”
“Holly.”
She ignored him, stepping down one stair.
The wolf lifted her head, gold eyes glowing faintly through the night.
Some strange, warm tug slid through Holly’s chest—like something deep inside her had leaned forward in recognition.
Her breath stuttered.
What was that?
Rowan moved so fast the air snapped.
He caught her arm, pulling her back against him. “Don’t. Don't get any closer.”
Holly’s pulse hammered. “Rowan—”
“No.” His grip was firm but not painful, his chest pressed against her back, heat radiating through her coat. “Something’s wrong. I can feel it.”
The young wolf’s ears twitched at the sound of his voice.
And then she did something Holly didn’t expect.
She lowered her head.
Not in fear.
In respect.
Submission.
To Rowan.
Or…
Holly swallowed hard.
“…to me?” she whispered.
Rowan flinched like the words had struck him.
“Holly,” he breathed, “get inside. Now.”
“But—”
“Inside.”
His voice left no room for argument.
Shaken, Holly retreated up the steps, heart thundering as Rowan remained in the snow, locking eyes with the young rogue.
A low growl rippled through the air—Rowan’s, not hers.
“Why are you here?” he murmured, the command in his voice nearly tangible.
The wolf whined softly.
Rowan stepped forward once.
And in that moment, Rowan wasn’t human.
He wasn’t even pretending to be.
He moved like a creature carved from instinct and authority, each breath measured, each step controlled dominance.
The wolf shrank back—not from fear—but from deference.
Rowan’s voice dropped to a tone Holly had never heard before. “You shouldn’t be near her.”
The wind picked up, swirling snow between them.
The young wolf turned and slipped silently into the trees, disappearing into the darkness without a trace.
Rowan didn’t turn until she was fully gone.
Holly waited inside the doorway, freezing and breathless.
When Rowan finally stepped back onto the porch, his expression was carved from stone.
She opened her mouth.
“I—”
“Don’t ask,” he said tightly.
Holly stared at him, frustration and fear twisting together. “You can’t keep saying that, Rowan. Something is going on. With the wolf. With you. With… everything.”
His gaze locked on hers.
Haunted.
Conflicted.
Borderline desperate.
“I’m trying to protect you,” he said quietly.
“From what?”
He didn’t answer.
Because for the first time, Rowan wasn’t sure if he was protecting Holly from the rogue…
…or from the truth that was waking inside her.
Behind his eyes, Asher pressed forward.
She’s not ready. Not yet. But soon.
Rowan closed his eyes, breath shaking.
When he opened them again, Holly stepped back instinctively.
Because his pupils had gone sharp—animal sharp.
Asher bared his teeth in anticipation.
Rowan swallowed hard.
“She’s coming.”
- Writer
