"Ever wonder what it is like, to be hunted?"

Elara blinked; the question hung in the air like smoke. It wasn't the kind of question one asked over coffee or in the middle of the town square-especially not in Silver Creek, where nothing ever happened and life followed the same grooves. Yet here she was, standing on the edge of those dark woods that bordered town, listening to a stranger—a man she'd never seen in her life—throw that question at her like it was the most normal thing in the world.

She stared at him, the cogs of her mind reworking to put the pieces together. An edge tinged his voice, one that told her he knew something he wasn't letting on, that he had seen things-whispers he wasn't supposed to speak. His gaze was sharp, unyielding, holding her in place as the weight of something dangerous moved beneath the calm.

"I don't know," she returned, the tone light, her pulse fluttering. "Should I?"

The man smiled-nothing of warmth touched his eyes. "Not yet. But soon enough."

That was the moment when Elara knew she should have turned and walked away. But she didn't. There was just something about him-the sound of his voice, the way he looked at her, as if he knew some secret she did not-that held her in that spot, as though tacked there. A shiver crawled up her spine. The air around them grew thick; the shadows lengthened, gobbling up the last bits of daylight.

The forest behind loomed silent-an imposing mass of trees that was part of the town's history, never its life. People in Silver Creek avoided the woods. They didn't say why, an unspoken rule, a kind of folklore passed wordless. It was something Elara had never questioned until now, apparently.

She turned back to the trees once more, and for the first time, her skin crawled-the tenuous, unseen pull of some invisible thread tugging her closer, deeper into a world beyond anything she'd ever known.

"I've never seen you before," she said, turning again to the stranger. "Who are you?"

The smile vanished from the man's face as it darkened in an instant. "The one trying to keep you alive.

Before she could get him to explain what he meant, he turned and was swallowed by the woods. The shadows swallowed him whole. For one very long moment, Elara stood froze, her heart racing, questions swirling in her mind: What just happened? Who was that man, and why did he seem to know more about her than she knew?

The next morning, the spooky encounter replayed itself again and again in her mind. She had said nothing to anyone, not even Claire, her best friend-who was usually the first one with whom Elara said anything. There was just something about the whole incident that felt too unreal, too bizarre to be spoken out loud. What could she even say? Some stranger told her that people are hunting her and disappeared into the woods? Claire would have laughed it off, telling her it was probably some prank or a creepy local trying to spook her.

But the truth of it all was that Elara couldn't shake this feeling that something was horribly wrong.

As Elara made her way down Main Street that morning, Silver Creek did not seem very different than it had been. The sun was lazily hanging in the sky, casting its warmth upon the redbrick buildings lining the road and sprinkled with small shops. People nodded and smiled in greeting to one another, exchanging pleasantries in that particular way only a small town could. But Elara felt like the weight of last night still lay heavily upon her mind, like some sort of bad dream she couldn't wake from.

Already sipping on her iced latte and scrolling through her phone, Claire was waiting for her at the coffee shop. She looked up as Elara slipped into the chair opposite her, raising an eyebrow at the pale hue of her friend's face.

"You look like you saw a ghost," Claire said, shoving her sunglasses onto her head. "What's happening?

Elara faltered, biting her lip. She wasn't certain where to begin-or if she should begin at all. Perhaps it really had been nothing. Perhaps she was overthinking everything. Yet the man's voice seemed to ring within her head, dark and evasive.

"What would you do if someone told you you were being hunted?" Elara asked, trying to keep her tone casual.

Claire blinked in surprise at the question. "What? You mean like some kind of horror movie scenario?

Elara shook her head, blowing out a breath. "No, like… in real life."

Claire leaned herself forward, interest sparked. "Okay, what's going on? You're being weird.

"I was at the edge of the woods last night," Elara said, watching Claire's face for a moment of disbelieving flair. "Some guy showed up-never seen him before. He asked me if I knew what it felt like to be hunted, then told me I didn't belong here."

Claire's amused expression contorted to one of concern. "Wait, what? That's creepy as hell. Who was he?"

"I don't know," Elara said, and suddenly her voice fell to a whisper. "He just… vanished into the woods."

Claire slumped back in her chair, frowning. "Well, that's not unsettling at all."

Elara took a deep breath. "I don't know if it's all in my head, but something about it felt… real. Like he wasn't just messing with me. He knew something. Something important."

Claire did not say anything for a minute, her brow furrowed in thought. "You don't think he was serious, do you? Like, actually dangerous?"

"I don't know," Elara said honestly. "But I cannot stop thinking about it.

Claire launched herself forward. "Look, you know it's a town full of weirdos and small-town gossip. There's probably some old legend about the woods that he's playing into. Or he is a creep. Either way, stay away from the place. The woods have always given me the creeps.".

Elara nodded, but deep inside, she knew better. This wasn't just some prankster from the town, or even some weird stranger. The look that man gave her-just like he knew something she did not-made a knot fall in her stomach.

That night proved too much for Elara. The pull of the woods seemed to grow stronger still, that voice in the back of her mind tugging her closer, urging her toward answers. Despite better judgment, she found herself standing on the spot where she had been the night before-the boundary between town and forest stretching away before her like some kind of challenge.

Above, the full moon shone brightly at the middle of the sky, casting an uncanny glow on the silvery tips of treetops. The air was heavy with silence save only for the rustling of leaves in the soft breeze. It was upon this step forward that her heart hit her chest and her breathing became shallow.

For one long moment, nothing stirred. The woods were still, the branches unmoving in the breeze, as if it too, held its breath. The shadows moved finally, and out of its dark interior stepped one figure into the pale light of the moon.

It was the man from earlier.

"И told you not to come back," he growled menacingly.

Elara stepped back, her heart racing against her chest. "Who are you?"

His eyes gleamed bright in the moonlight, keen and predatory. "The one trying to save you from a world you don't understand."

Elara's breath caught in her throat, her pulse skyrocketing. "A world I don't understand? What do you mean?

He moved closer to her, never taking his eyes off of hers. "This town isn't like it seems. You are not who you think you are."

She raised an eyebrow, heart racing, and asked, "What do you mean?

He threw a glance over his shoulder now, into the woods, before his eyes came back to her. His expression softened, the menace in his eyes blurring for a time. "There are things out there," he said slowly, "things in the shadows. Creatures you only have ever heard about in stories."

She shook her head, frowning, trying to make out what he meant. "What creatures?"

His eyes sharpened again, latching onto hers. "Werewolves.

Elara could only glare at him in denial, refusing to entertain in her head what this word was stating. "Werewolves? That's impossible."

He didn't even blink. "It's far more real than you can dream. The pack-the ones who call these woods home-they've been watching you, waiting for you. They're coming, Elara. And when they find you, they'll care little about the life you've lived here. They will be interested in one thing, and one thing only: what you are.

What am I?" Elara's voice was shaking; her throat closing up. "I'm just-

"You're not just anything," he cut her off, implacable. "You're one of them."

It hit her like a kick in the gut. "Impossible. I am not-

"You are,." He didn't budge, his voice staying right where he had put it. "It's in your blood, your being. Why you draw to the woods, why you feel different, is because you are. You're of them, with the pack. You always have been."

Elara stepped backward, her head shaking. "No. That can't be true."

Once more, the tension in the man's features released, and his voice dropped to just more than a whisper. "I know it's hard to swallow, but just listen. They'll be coming for you, and when they do, you have to be prepared."

"Prepared for what?" she merely echoed in a very low tone.

"To make the choice."

Elara swallowed hard. "Make what choice?

"Which camp you are in," he said simply. "The pack, or the humans. You can't be both.

Her mind reeled to comprehend it all-that which he had said. Werewolves? A pack? She should believe she belongs to them? It was impossible-absurd. And yet deep down, something with his words stirred inside of her, a part of her she had never been able to explain, never been able to understand.

The man stepped back, his eyes scanned the treeline again.

"They will be here shortly," he said. "You need to stay away from those woods. You must keep to the town, and do not let them find you."

As all Elara could do with the racing of her heart in her chest was stare as he turned one last time and disappeared into the dark of the forest, gone as quickly as he had appeared.

She stood there while what felt like an eternity passed, the weight of his words settling over her like a heavy blanket. The pack was coming for her. And she had to choose.

But how was she to choose when she didn't even know who she really was?

It was a night devoid of sleep for Elara, who lay in her bed with her brain racing and her thoughts entangled in fear and confusion. She kept replaying those words of that man in her head over and over, trying to make some sense out of them, but no matter how hard she tried, the feeling was there-it just could not be dispelled-that he was right.

There had always been in her something that she felt but never knew. Some kind of restlessness, some kind of tug toward the unknown. And suddenly for the first time in her life she felt that she was standing on a point overlooking what it was.

But the cost of making that discovery appalled her.

The hours crawled by, and the shadows in her room lengthened, extended, as if reaching out to her, calling to her toward the one thing she was working to avoid.

Deep down, Elara knew it was only a question of time before she knew she would have to.

For the pack was coming.

And once they did, there was no turning back.