The late afternoon sun hung low over Blackwater Hollow, casting long, jagged shadows across the streets. Dante Harrow leaned against the hood of his truck, staring at the edge of the forest that bordered the town. He’d spent the past few days patrolling the area around Ophelia Hall, keeping an eye out for any signs of the wraithbeast’s return or something worse. Despite the freezing air, he barely felt the cold. His mind was too preoccupied.
He glanced down at the knife in his hand, its custom-forged blade gleaming faintly in the fading light. His father’s voice echoed in his mind: "A hunter’s blade isn’t just a weapon. It’s an extension of who you are. Keep it sharp, keep it steady." He’d heard those words so many times growing up, but now they carried a weight he hadn’t fully appreciated until recently.
The passenger door of the truck creaked open, and Victor climbed out, his expression as sharp and unreadable as ever. “Still nothing,” his father said, his voice low and clipped. “The area’s quiet, but that doesn’t mean it’s safe.”
Dante nodded, sheathing the knife and crossing his arms. “Quiet’s worse. It means something’s waiting.”
Victor gave a faint grunt of agreement. His sharp eyes scanned the treeline, his posture tense. After a long moment, he turned to Dante. “You’ve been distracted. What’s on your mind?”
Dante hesitated, his gaze dropping to the dust at his feet. “The girl. Amaya. Something doesn’t add up.”
Victor’s brow furrowed. “She’s not a threat. You saw her that night—scared out of her mind. Whatever’s going on with her, it’s not intentional.”
“I know that,” Dante said quickly, frustration creeping into his tone. “But that doesn’t explain why she ended up at the hall. People don’t just wander there, Dad. It’s like the place calls to them.”
Victor’s expression darkened, his jaw tightening. “You’re not wrong. But it’s not our job to figure out why. Our job is to make sure she and everyone in this town stays safe.”
Dante’s shoulders tensed. “What if keeping her safe means figuring it out? What if there’s more to this than we realize?”
Victor studied him for a long moment, his piercing gaze making Dante feel like a rookie hunter again. Finally, Victor sighed and placed a hand on his shoulder. “If you’re this convinced, then tell me everything. No holding back.”
Dante nodded, exhaling a slow breath. “A couple of weeks ago, Nyx Blackthorn contacted me, asking for purple wolfsbane. He said it was for a test. After some persistence, he admitted it was for Amaya. He’s been spending a lot of time with the Alpha twins lately. Something about it felt... off.”
Victor’s eyes narrowed, his voice hardening. “And you gave it to him?”
“Yes,” Dante admitted, bracing himself for his father’s reaction. “But I followed him. I needed to know what he was up to. I saw him later, mixing the wolfsbane into Amaya’s drink. I almost stepped in, but... I wanted to see what would happen. It didn’t affect her at all. Not even a twitch. But... ”
Victor’s jaw tightened. “But what?”
“Something didn’t feel right,” Dante said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t know how to explain it. There’s something about her, Dad. Like she’s connected to all of this in a way we don’t understand yet.”
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Victor’s expression was unreadable, but his silence felt heavy. Finally, he spoke, his voice measured. “You should have told me sooner. If I’d known, I wouldn’t have suggested her living with Elias. But maybe this is for the best. I’ll let Elias know to keep an eye on Amaya, whenever she decides to move into their house. So far, she’s refusing to leave her place.”
Dante nodded, guilt flickering across his face. “I know. I should’ve said something. I just... I didn’t want to make it worse if I was wrong.”
Victor’s hand tightened briefly on Dante’s shoulder. “You’re not wrong to be cautious, but we can’t afford secrets right now. Not with the wraithbeast still out there.”
“So what do we do?” Dante asked, his voice quieter.
Victor’s gaze shifted back to the forest, his expression grim. “We watch her. Closely. And we’ll need to have a talk with Nyx. If he’s playing games, he’ll answer for it.”
With that, Victor climbed into the truck, the engine rumbling to life. “Be careful,” he said before driving off, leaving Dante alone with the growing shadows.
As the truck disappeared down the road, Dante made his way into the forest, the familiar sounds of crunching and rustling branches surrounding him. The air grew colder the deeper he ventured, and the fading sunlight barely pierced the dense canopy of trees. Despite the solitude, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he wasn’t alone.
His grip tightened on his gun as he scanned the area, his senses sharp. The forest had a way of playing tricks on even the most seasoned hunters, but Dante trusted his instincts. He’d spent years honing them, learning to differentiate between natural sounds and the subtle signs of something unnatural.
A faint sound to his left caught his attention—a soft crunch, like a footstep. Dante froze, his body tensing as he turned toward the source. The shadows seemed to deepen, the air growing heavier. Slowly, he moved closer, each step deliberate and silent.
When he reached the source of the sound, he found nothing but an empty clearing. The area was undisturbed, save for a single set of footprints leading deeper into the woods. The prints were small, human, but fresh. His chest tightened.
A low growl rumbled from the shadows behind him, and Dante spun around, blade drawn. Emerging from the trees was Xander, his wolfish features barely concealed by his human form.
“What are you doing here, Xander?” Dante’s voice was sharp, his grip on the gun unwavering.
Xander smirked, his red eyes gleaming in the dim light. “Relax, Dante. I’m not here for a fight. Not unless you’re looking for one.”
“Answer the question,” Dante snapped. “Why are you in my territory?”
Xander’s expression turned serious, his smirk fading. “I could ask you the same thing. You think you’re the only one keeping tabs on that creature? We’ve been tracking it too.”
Dante’s jaw tightened. “Stay out of my way.”
“Your way?” Xander barked a laugh. “Funny. Last I checked, this forest doesn’t belong to you.”
“It’s my job to protect this town,” Dante growled. “And I don’t need a werewolf complicating things.”
Xander stepped closer, his tone dropping. “Complicating things? We’re fighting the same battle, Harrow. You can hate me all you want, but if you let your pride get in the way, more people will die.”
Dante’s grip on the gun faltered for a moment, but his glare remained. “Stay out of my way,” he repeated, his voice cold.
Dante’s grip on the blade faltered for a moment, but his glare remained. “Stay out of my way,” he repeated, his voice cold.
Xander’s jaw tightened. “You think you’re the only one who cares about protecting people? My family has lived here longer than your family’s been hunting, and we’ve kept these woods safer than you ever could. You might want to consider that before you write us off as the enemy.”
Dante’s eyes narrowed. “I’ll believe that when you stop acting like you’re above the rules.”
Xander let out a slow breath, his gaze steady. “Believe what you want. But when that creature comes back, you’ll need all the help you can get. Even if it’s from someone you don’t trust.”
They stood in tense silence, the weight of unspoken challenges hanging between them. Finally, Xander stepped back, his expression unreadable. “Fine. Do it your way. Just don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
With that, he turned and disappeared into the shadows, leaving Dante alone once again.
Dante stood there, the weight of Xander’s words settling heavily in his mind. The forest felt darker now, the silence more oppressive. As he turned back toward the footprints in the snow, he couldn’t shake the feeling that the wraithbeast wasn’t the only threat lurking in Blackwater Hollow.