The forest was fire and shadows.
Not literal flames but in Evelyn's chest, something had caught fire, and she couldn't put it out.
Every heartbeat thundered in her ears, louder than the wind ripping through the branches, louder than the snarls in the mist.
Zayn moved like darkness made flesh.
One moment he was beside her, and the next he was a blur, slashing through the air with that obsidian blade, each strike landing with precision that didn't seem human.
The hound-thing that lunged from the trees never had a chance, it dissolved into mist and ash before it hit the ground.
But three more followed.
Evelyn backed into a tree, fingers gripping its slick bark, trying to steady herself.
Her breath fogged in front of her face, she was shaking, and not just from fear.
It was him.
There was something deeply unnatural about the way he fought, his movements too smooth, his reflexes too sharp.
His coat flared behind him as he turned, hat still shadowing half his face.
One of the beasts lunged at his back.
Evelyn's breath hitched.
"Behind you!"
He didn't turn, he simply vanished melting into the fog, reappearing behind the creature and driving his blade through its spine with a single clean motion.
Evelyn clutched her ribs.
What are you?
A hound turned on her.
Its body was warped like a dog stitched together from shadow and rage.
Its eyes were hollow pits, leaking black smoke, it moved low to the ground, its snarl a rumble that vibrated through her soles.
She backed up.
"Help-" she choked.
His head snapped toward her, silver eyes flashing from under the brim of his hat.
The creature leapt.
She screamed.
And then, everything slowed.
She didn't mean to sing, not truly.
The sound slipped past her lips like breath, a single trembling note, more feeling than melody.
The hound twisted midair.
Its body shuddered, convulsed like the sound had pierced it from the inside out.
It collapsed just feet from her, yowling as it writhed and melted into smoke.
Silence.
Even the mist seemed to hesitate.
Zayn stood still, his blade lowered, eyes locked on her. And for once, Evelyn saw more than mystery in them.
She saw fear.
"You sang," he said quietly. Not angry and not surprised, just... defeated.
"I didn't mean to," she whispered. "It just—it came out."
His eyes searched hers. "You're not trained. You could've—"
"Could've what?" she snapped, her voice trembling. "Killed myself? Killed you? I know."
He took a step toward her.
And then another.
His expression was unreadable, that same storm she couldn't see the center of.
But now that the fog was thinner, and his face more visible, Evelyn finally let herself look at him like really look.
He was — beautiful.
Painfully so.
The kind of beautiful that didn't seem meant for this world.
His skin, softened and brightened by the gray light, framed by soaked curls plastered to sharp cheekbones and a strong jaw, his lips parted slightly, like he was about to speak but thought better of it.
He stopped just in front of her.
The air between them thrummed with silence.
"I told you not to sing," he said, barely above a whisper.
"You said if you fall," she replied. "You didn't."
A single raindrop slid down his cheek, and he didn't move to wipe it away.
His eyes stayed on hers, like they were having two conversations at once, one with words, and one with whatever this... pull was between them.
"You don't know what that sound could've awakened," he murmured. "It's not just the hounds who listen."
She swallowed. "Then maybe they should hear me. Maybe it's time someone did."
He stared at her for a long, quiet second.
And then, unexpectedly, something shifted in his face, not quite a smile, but a twitch of something close.
Wistful? Bitter? Maybe even proud.
"You really are hers," he muttered.
"Hers?"
He turned away.
"Come," he said over his shoulder. "We need to keep moving. They'll regroup soon."
But Evelyn didn't move.
Her heart was still hammering, her mind spinning.
His words replayed over and over:
You really are hers.
"My mother?" she called after him. "Did you mean my mother?"
He didn't answer.
He just walked into the mist, disappearing like the shadow he was.
She took a step to follow and a faint crack split the air behind her.
A low sound that was barely there.
She turned.
But there was nothing in the fog.
Nothing but silence.
And yet—
That awful feeling returned.
The one that whispered through her blood, the one that said you're being watched.
But not by a hound.
By something older.
Something far, far worse.
Again sorry, i broke my promise, it's just because I thought my story bores you readers that's why I made it short. 😔
Hey, next will be Evelyn's POV. Don't worry Zayn will also participate.