Chapter three: Shadows in the night

The next morning, the eerie sight of Ronan standing outside my house was the first thing on my mind. I’d barely slept again, haunted by the image of him lingering under the streetlights, watching me in silence. By the time I’d worked up the courage to confront him last night, he had disappeared into the shadows like he was never there.

Part of me questioned if I had imagined the whole thing. But I knew deep down it wasn’t just a figment of my overactive imagination. He was there, and there was something he wasn’t telling me.

The day stretched on with an unsettling calm. I tried to shake off the strange feeling of being watched, but it clung to me like a second skin. Sophie had called in the morning, insisting I join her at the diner for lunch again, but I wasn’t in the mood for small talk and her usual carefree banter.

Instead, I wandered through the quiet streets of Grey Hollow, hoping to distract myself. The town was just as sleepy and uneventful as always. The trees rustled lazily in the autumn breeze, and the sun cast long, golden shadows over the old brick buildings. But I couldn’t enjoy the peace.

Something was lurking beneath the surface of this town. I felt it in the pit of my stomach.

I walked through the town square, my eyes darting around, scanning the faces of the people I passed. Everyone looked the same—friendly, normal, entirely unconcerned. If Ronan was right about something being dangerous, no one else seemed to know it. Or maybe they did, and they were just better at hiding it.

“Lena!” a voice called from behind me, snapping me out of my thoughts. I turned to see Mrs. Cooper, one of the town’s elder residents, bustling towards me with a concerned look on her face.

“Morning, Mrs. Cooper,” I greeted her, though my voice lacked its usual cheerfulness.

She studied me with narrowed eyes, as if she could sense something was wrong. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost, dear. Everything all right?”

I hesitated. I wasn’t sure how to answer that. Was everything all right? No. But could I explain why to someone like Mrs. Cooper? Definitely not.

“I’ve just been a little distracted lately,” I said, forcing a smile. “Too much on my mind, I guess.”

Mrs. Cooper didn’t look convinced, but she nodded anyway. “Well, you take care of yourself, Lena. Grey Hollow’s always been a quiet town, but it never hurts to be cautious, especially these days.”

That last comment sent a shiver down my spine. What did she mean by “these days”? Was there something going on in Grey Hollow that I didn’t know about?

Before I could ask, she waved goodbye and hurried off, leaving me alone with my thoughts once more.

I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was seriously wrong. Maybe I was overthinking it, but there were too many pieces that didn’t fit together. The way Ronan had warned me, the way Mrs. Cooper hinted at danger—it all seemed connected.

I needed answers, and I wasn’t going to find them by wandering aimlessly through town. I made my way back home, determined to figure out what was going on.

Once inside, I locked the door behind me, my mind racing. I knew I couldn’t just sit here and wait for something to happen. I had to be proactive. Maybe there was something online about Ronan or strange occurrences in Grey Hollow. It was a long shot, but I had to try.

I pulled out my laptop and typed "Ronan Blackwood" into the search bar. Nothing. No social media, no articles, nothing that tied him to any place, any history. It was as if he didn’t exist.

Next, I tried searching for any recent news about Grey Hollow. Again, nothing. Just the usual small-town events and the local gossip columns. But I knew there was more going on than what met the eye.

Frustrated, I closed the laptop and ran a hand through my hair. What was I missing?

Just then, a knock echoed through the house, startling me out of my thoughts. My heart pounded as I stood up, the sound unnerving in the otherwise silent house.

I cautiously approached the door, peering through the peephole. My breath caught in my throat.

Ronan stood there, his face shadowed by the dimming light of the afternoon. He wasn’t smiling, wasn’t doing anything to ease the tension that immediately thickened the air between us.

I hesitated, my hand hovering over the doorknob. A part of me didn’t want to open it. A part of me wanted to pretend like he hadn’t come at all. But another part of me—one filled with curiosity and, perhaps, even a little fear—needed answers.

Slowly, I unlocked the door and pulled it open.

“Ronan,” I said, my voice steady despite the racing of my heart. “What are you doing here?”

His eyes were dark, unreadable, as they locked onto mine. For a moment, he said nothing, just stared at me with that same intensity I had seen the night before.

“We need to talk,” he finally said, his voice low and rough.

I crossed my arms, trying to keep a safe distance from the unease creeping up my spine. “About what?”

Ronan stepped closer, his gaze flicking briefly to the street behind him before settling back on me. “I told you to go home last night for a reason. You’re not safe here, Lena.”

There it was again. The same warning. The same cryptic, vague words that didn’t make any sense.

I frowned. “What do you mean I’m not safe? This is Grey Hollow. Nothing happens here.”

“That’s what you think,” he said, his voice tight. “But you’re wrong. Something’s happening, something dangerous. And you’re caught in the middle of it.”

I felt a chill run through me. “Why? Why me?”

Ronan’s jaw clenched, and for a moment, I thought he wasn’t going to answer. But then he leaned in closer, his eyes never leaving mine.

“Because they know who you are.”

I swallowed hard. “Who? Who knows?”

He hesitated, as if weighing how much he should tell me. But then he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Wolves.”

I stared at him, confused. “Wolves? What are you talking about?”

Ronan’s expression darkened. “You need to leave, Lena. Before they come for you.”

“Who’s ‘they’? What do you mean—?”

But before I could finish, Ronan stiffened, his eyes darting toward the street. He was suddenly alert, like he had sensed something I couldn’t see.

“They’re already here,” he muttered.

In that moment, the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. I didn’t need to ask who he meant. I could feel it too—the shift in the air, the sudden stillness that fell over the neighborhood like a heavy blanket.

Something was out there. And it was coming for me.