Chapter Six — Nowhere to Hide
I didn’t move for a long time.
The knocks on the door stopped. The footsteps faded. The hallway went silent again.
But I was still frozen in the corner, holding my breath.
My heart beat so loud, I could feel it in my ears. My legs were stiff. My body was cold.
He was here.
Inside the house.
The shadow had come closer than ever. Too close.
And now, I had only one thought in my head—
I have to get away.
I crawled slowly across the floor and reached for the candle. My fingers trembled as I struck the match. The little flame came to life, dancing softly in the darkness. I placed it on the table and looked around the room.
The window was still closed.
The door was still locked.
But it didn’t feel safe anymore.
Nothing did.
I moved toward the window and peered out through a crack in the curtain. The garden below was still, like nothing had happened. No shadow. No wolf. No movement.
But I knew better now.
They were still out there. Waiting.
I had to do something. I couldn’t stay here like a trapped bird. If I stayed, he would come back.
Maybe not tonight.
Maybe not tomorrow.
But soon.
And next time, he might not knock.
---
I pulled open my closet and dug through the clothes, looking for anything warm, anything dark.
My fingers found a deep brown cloak. It had belonged to my mother. She used to wear it when she walked in the garden during the cold mornings. I held it to my chest for a moment, remembering her soft scent.
Then I wrapped it tightly around my shoulders.
I didn’t know where I was going.
I didn’t know how far I could get.
But I couldn’t stay.
Not when someone whispered my name in the dark. Not when a wolf stared at me with human-like eyes. Not when knocks came at my door in the middle of the night.
I lit another candle and moved quietly to the small wooden chest near my bed.
Inside it was a loose board. I pulled it free and reached down to grab the little pouch I had hidden long ago.
Coins. Only a few.
Enough to maybe get me as far as the edge of the village.
I stuffed them into my pocket.
Then I stood still and listened.
The house was quiet.
I moved to the door and slowly turned the lock.
It clicked softly.
I opened the door just a crack and peeked into the hallway.
No one.
Darkness stretched in both directions.
I held my breath and stepped out.
---
The hallway creaked under my feet. I winced and froze each time it did.
I walked like a shadow myself, hugging the walls, moving slowly. Carefully.
I passed Mira’s room. Her door was closed. A soft glow came from under it. Maybe she had a candle lit too.
I wanted to knock. To wake her. To tell her everything.
But I didn’t.
She would stop me. She would tell my father.
And I didn’t trust anyone anymore.
I reached the back staircase.
The main stairs were too open. Too risky. But the back ones led to the kitchen, and from there… the servant’s door.
I held the railing as I went down, heart pounding with every step.
When I reached the bottom, I paused in the shadows and listened.
Nothing.
The kitchen was empty.
The night was still.
I slipped across the floor and reached the small wooden door hidden behind a curtain.
The servant’s exit.
It was locked—but I had seen Mira use the key once.
She always kept it in a bowl on the shelf.
I reached up, hands shaking, and felt around.
Yes.
The cold metal touched my fingers.
I grabbed it, placed it into the lock, and turned it slowly.
The click was loud in the quiet room.
Too loud.
I froze again.
Then I slowly opened the door.
Cold night air brushed against my face.
I stepped out.
---
The sky was full of stars.
The wind was soft, whispering through the trees.
But I didn’t stop to look.
I pulled the cloak tighter and walked across the garden path, past the roses and the fountain, toward the stone wall.
My plan was simple.
There was a small wooden gate at the back. Rarely used. Sometimes forgotten.
I had to reach it.
If I could get through that gate and into the woods, I might find someone. A traveler. A trader. Maybe even a path that led far from here.
Anywhere but here.
But the moment I reached the middle of the garden, I stopped.
I wasn’t alone.
I knew it before I saw him.
I felt it.
That cold breath on my neck.
That silent pressure in the air.
And then… I heard the leaves move.
I turned my head slowly.
And I saw him.
The shadow.
Not far.
Closer than ever.
Standing between me and the gate.
Tall.
Still.
Dark as night.
And he was watching me.
Again.
I didn’t move. Didn’t blink.
Then I turned and ran.
Not toward him—but back, toward the trees on the side of the house.
I had no idea where I was going. I just ran.
My feet hit the grass hard. My heart slammed in my chest.
Branches whipped at my arms. The wind howled past my ears.
I heard movement behind me.
Heavy steps.
Not running.
Walking.
But steady.
Coming after me.
---
I stumbled over a root and hit the ground hard, scraping my palms. I cried out and rolled onto my back.
I looked behind me.
I saw nothing.
But I knew he was close.
I crawled to the edge of the path and pulled myself behind a thick bush, hiding beneath its heavy branches.
My breath came fast. My body shook.
Please don’t see me.
Please don’t hear me.
Please just go.
I pressed my hand over my mouth to keep from sobbing.
Then I saw it.
Boots.
Right at the edge of the bush.
He had followed me.
And he had stopped.
Right there.
He stood still for a long moment.
Then… he moved again.
Away from me.
I waited until the sound of his steps faded.
But I didn’t come out.
I stayed hidden, knees pressed to my chest, tears running down my cheeks.
I don’t know how long I stayed like that.
Maybe minutes.
Maybe longer.
The night felt endless.
When I finally moved again, my legs were numb.
I crawled out of the bush slowly, carefully. My dress was torn. My arms were scratched.
I didn’t care.
I just wanted to survive.
I crept back along the edge of the trees, away from the garden, toward the stable.
There was a small shed behind it. Old. Dusty. Unused.
I had hidden there once when I was little. I remembered it now.
It was small, but safe.
I pushed the door open and slipped inside.
Cobwebs brushed my face. Dust filled my nose.
But it was dark. And quiet.
And no one would find me here.
I curled up on the floor, wrapping the cloak tight around me.
I could still hear the wind outside.
And I could still feel him.
Close.
Getting closer.
But not here.
Not yet.
Then I heard something that made my blood turn cold.
A voice.
Low.
Rough.
Right outside the shed.
“Ayla…”
Again.
He had followed me.
He knew.
He always knew.
I didn’t move.
Didn’t breathe.
And then I saw it—
Through the crack in the wooden wall—
A single eye.
Looking in.
Right at me.