Chapter 12
The evening air carried a bite as Clara closed up shop, flipping the sign to Closed and locking the door behind her. The street was quiet, the kind of small-town silence that usually comforted her. Tonight, though, something about it felt… off.
She gathered her jacket tighter around herself and started down the sidewalk toward her car. The forest loomed just beyond the streetlights, black and endless.
A prickle ran down the back of her neck.
She slowed, glancing over her shoulder. Nothing. Just the empty street, the glow of the lampposts, the faint rustle of leaves in the breeze. Still, her heartbeat sped, an insistent drum.
She told herself she was being ridiculous. Long day, too much caffeine, an overactive imagination—
Then, from the shadows at the edge of the trees, came the sound. Low. Wrong. A growl that vibrated in her bones.
Clara froze, breath caught in her throat.
Her instincts screamed at her to run, but her legs wouldn’t move. The shape that slid between the trees was massive—far too large for a dog. A flash of silvered eyes caught the lamplight.
Panic jolted through her. She stumbled back, fumbling for her keys.
And then—
“Clara.”
The sound of her name pulled her like a tether. She spun to see him—Rowan—emerging from the shadows of a nearby alley. Tall, broad-shouldered, his presence anchoring her in an instant.
“Don’t move,” he said quietly, his voice sharp with command.
Her chest rose and fell in shallow breaths. “Wh-what—”
“Stay behind me.”
The growl from the forest deepened, closer now. Clara’s skin prickled, her fear warring with the strange, inexplicable relief that he was here. Rowan moved with a predator’s grace, stepping between her and the treeline, his body radiating heat and tension.
For a moment, she could only stare at the line of his shoulders, the way he stood as though he could hold back the entire night if it tried to reach her.
And God help her—her fear tangled with something hotter, sharper. Attraction that stole her breath, even with danger pressing close.
Rowan tilted his head slightly, as if listening. Whatever he heard made his jaw tighten. “Get in your car. Slowly.”
Her hands shook as she fumbled with the keys. The air was so thick with adrenaline she thought she might choke on it. She managed to unlock the door, but hesitated, her eyes on him. “Rowan—”
He looked back at her then, and the intensity in his hazel eyes nearly undid her. Protective. Fierce. Something more, something she didn’t have a name for.
“Go,” he said softly, but there was a roughness beneath it that made her pulse trip.
Clara slid into the driver’s seat, hands trembling. Through the windshield she saw Rowan take a step closer to the forest, his entire body coiled, dangerous. The growl had faded, swallowed by the night, but she sensed whatever had lurked there hadn’t truly left.
She wanted to ask questions, demand answers—but her voice wouldn’t come.
And as she sat there, heart racing, she realized something terrifying.
She wasn’t just afraid of what hid in the woods.
She was afraid of how much she wanted to trust him.