Chapter2
1170 Words
Lena’s breath came in ragged gasps as she stumbled forward, her legs weak beneath her. The forest blurred around her, shadows twisting in the dim moonlight. Keep moving. That was all that mattered.
Then—a snap.
She froze. Not from exhaustion. Something was wrong.
The air felt different. Thicker. Charged.
She stepped back—and the ground beneath her gave way.
A sharp yank wrenched her upward. A rope coiled around her ankle, hoisting her into the air before she could even scream. Blood rushed to her head as she dangled helplessly, swinging above the forest floor.
Panic clawed at her throat. No, no, no—
A rustle in the underbrush. Footsteps. Steady. Deliberate.
Lena twisted, trying to see. Too late. A figure emerged from the shadows, golden eyes gleaming like fire.
He stopped just below her, arms crossed. Calm. Too calm.
“Well,” he murmured. “That was pathetic.”
Lena snarled. The sound was too deep, too raw. Her skin prickled, heat crawling beneath the surface. Her nails sharpened, the air thick with the scent of fur and earth.
Not now. Not here.
She clenched her teeth, forcing the shift back. Breathe. Focus.
His gaze flicked to her hands, then back to her face. He tilted his head, curious.
“You felt it, didn’t you?”
Lena swallowed hard.
He took a step closer.
"You're not ready for them," he said. "And if you shift now, they'll tear you apart."
Lena’s body trembled as she dangled in the air, her lungs burning with every ragged breath. The stranger—Ethan—watched her, his golden eyes sharp, calculating.
She clenched her fists. “Cut me down.”
His lips curled, not quite a smile. “And why would I do that?”
Lena’s nails dug into her palms. Heat rippled under her skin again—the shift clawing to the surface. No. Not now. She forced herself to breathe, but her pulse slammed in her ears.
Ethan’s gaze flickered to her hands. A slow inhale, as if he could smell her struggle. His eyes darkened, unreadable. “If you keep fighting it, you’ll only make it worse.”
“I’m not—” she swallowed hard, her voice breaking. “I don’t even know what’s happening to me.”
He stepped closer. The air around him changed. Heavy. Suffocating.
Lena’s throat tightened. His presence wasn’t just intimidating—it was suffocatingly magnetic. Like he could pull her in without a single touch.
She gritted her teeth. Don’t let him see your fear.
Ethan reached into his pocket, pulling out a knife. The blade gleamed.
Lena stiffened. “What are you doing?”
He twirled it between his fingers, unimpressed. “You want to go down, don’t you?”
She narrowed her eyes. “You could’ve cut me down five minutes ago.”
He smirked. “I could’ve.”
The knife flashed—and suddenly, she was falling.
Lena barely had time to react before the rope snapped and gravity yanked her toward the ground.
A hard arm caught her mid-air.
Ethan.
One second she was falling—the next, she was pressed against his chest, her breath stolen from the impact.
His grip was firm, unshakable. Too steady for someone who had just caught her out of thin air.
His breath brushed her ear. “You should thank me.”
Lena’s heart slammed against her ribs. Too close. Too warm. Too dangerous.
She shoved at his chest, breaking free. “I didn’t ask for your help.”
He let her go—too easily. Like he was letting her believe she had control.
A slow smirk. “No. But you need it.”
Lena glared, taking a shaky step back. The ground beneath her shifted.
She stopped short. Too soft. Too unstable.
Ethan’s gaze dropped to her feet. His expression sharpened. “Don’t move.”
Lena froze. Something wasn’t right.
Then—a snap.
The earth beneath her collapsed.
Lena’s stomach lurched as the ground gave way beneath her.
Her body tensed, bracing for the fall—but it never came.
A hand snatched her wrist, jerking her back so hard she slammed into Ethan’s chest.
Her breath hitched. Solid. Unyielding. Too damn close.
She shoved against him, twisting in his grip. “Let me go!”
“Would you rather fall?” His voice was calm. Too calm. Like he wasn’t holding her inches from whatever was below.
Lena’s pulse pounded. She glanced down. Darkness. A pit. No bottom in sight.
A trap.
Her knees wobbled. “What the hell is that?”
Ethan exhaled sharply. “Proof that you shouldn’t be here.”
He pulled her back, steadying her with an effortless strength that made her skin burn where he touched her.
She yanked her arm free. “I didn’t exactly plan on running into death traps tonight.”
Ethan crossed his arms. Assessing her. “And yet, you did.”
She swallowed. “What do you want from me?”
His golden eyes flickered. “I want you gone.”
Lena’s stomach twisted. “Excuse me?”
“Turn around.” His tone hardened. “Leave.”
She stepped closer, anger overriding fear. “You think I haven’t been trying to do that?” She gestured to the ruined earth beneath her feet. “I don’t even know where I am!”
Ethan sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Of course you don’t.”
Something in his tone—**exasperation, almost knowing—**set her on edge.
She narrowed her eyes. “What does that mean?”
Silence.
Ethan didn’t answer. Didn’t look at her.
Instead, he turned toward the trees, his entire body going rigid.
Lena’s breath caught. “What—”
He lifted a finger to his lips. A silent warning.
Then—a sound.
Low. Inhuman.
Lena’s blood ran cold.
They weren’t alone.
Ethan’s muscles coiled. His golden eyes glowed brighter, like an animal sensing danger.
Lena’s pulse thundered. “What is it?” she whispered.
He didn’t move. Didn’t blink.
Then, voice barely above a breath—“Run.”
A snarl ripped through the night.
Faster. Closer. Not just one.
Lena’s body acted before her mind could catch up. She spun on her heel, sprinting into the trees, her heartbeat a war drum in her ears.
Ethan was already ahead of her—inhumanly fast.
Branches slashed at her arms. Her legs screamed in protest.
Behind her, footsteps. Heavy. Relentless. Hunting.
Lena gasped for air. “What—what’s coming?”
Ethan didn’t answer. Didn’t slow.
Another snarl. Closer. Too close.
A shadow moved in the darkness.
Lena’s lungs seized. She skidded to a halt. Something was in front of them.
Ethan cursed.
Lena’s vision swam. The air felt thicker. Warmer.
Her body burned. The shift.
No. No, no, no—
She stumbled, dropping to her knees.
Ethan turned sharply. “Lena—”
A figure lunged from the shadows.
Lena’s scream died in her throat.
- Writer
