Chapter 2 The stranger in the shadows

Keisha didn't sleep at all.

She lay in bed, wide-eyed and still, the sheets pulled up to her chin like a shield. Her room was quiet except for the occasional creak of the old floorboards and the wind brushing against the window. The shadows outside seemed darker than usual, thicker.

She felt watched.

And not just in the dream way.

Damian Grey's voice still echoed in her head.

You feel it, don't you?

Yes. She did. And that scared her more than anything.

She didn't know what "it" was only that it was real. Real enough to follow her out of sleep and into daylight. Real enough to walk into the bookstore with pale gray eyes and a calm, steady voice that made her body react like it had been waiting.

She didn't even know him.

And yet, somehow, she did.

By morning, Keisha looked like hell. She stood in the bathroom brushing her teeth, dark circles under her eyes and her hair piled into a messy bun. Kristy leaned against the doorframe sipping coffee.

"So," Kristy said casually, "are we gonna talk about the tall, dark, and spooky stranger who knew your name and talked like he'd been reading your diary?"

Keisha rinsed and spit into the sink. "No."

Kristy raised a brow. "Okay. Let me rephrase. I'm going to talk about it."

Keisha sighed and leaned on the counter. "What do you want me to say? That I've been dreaming about a man for weeks and he showed up in real life like something out of a twisted fairy tale?"

"Yes!" Kristy said, pointing with her mug. "Exactly that!"

Keisha shook her head. "I don't understand any of it."

Kristy looked serious now. "Do you want me to run a background check on him?"

"What?"

"I'm not joking," Kristy said. "I have an old hacker friend who owes me a favor. I just need a full name and I'll find out if this guy's got a basement full of skeletons."

Keisha gave her a look. "Kristy..."

"Look, I love you," Kristy said, putting down her mug. "And I don't trust some hot stranger who walks in talking about dreams and fate and what did he say? You 'awakened something'?"

Keisha nodded slowly.

Kristy crossed her arms. "Yeah. That's serial killer talk."

Keisha let out a soft laugh, but it faded quickly.

"I don't think he wants to hurt me," she said.

Kristy tilted her head. "Then what does he want?"

Keisha looked down. "I think... he wants me."

That afternoon, Keisha walked to work alone. The sky was cloudy, and the air felt heavy, like rain was coming. The bookstore was quiet when she arrived, and Mrs. Jensen handed her a list of new inventory to sort.

Keisha lost herself in the task, thankful for something to focus on. For a while, she almost forgot about Damian.

Until the bell over the door rang.

She looked up, and there he was.

Again.

Damian Grey stood just inside the door, dressed in black from head to toe. His coat hung open, showing a dark shirt and lean muscle. His eyes found her immediately.

He didn't smile. He didn't blink.

He just watched her.

Keisha's fingers tightened around the pen in her hand.

"Are you following me?" she asked quietly when he reached the counter.

"No," he said. "But I needed to see you again."

"That's not helping your case."

He tilted his head slightly. "You're not afraid of me."

"No," she admitted. "But maybe I should be."

Damian's eyes darkened. "I would never hurt you."

"You say that," she whispered, "but I don't even know what you are."

There was a long silence.

Finally, he said, "You already know. Deep down, you've always known."

Keisha's heart skipped. "You're... not human."

Damian's voice was low. "Not fully."

She stepped back, her spine hitting the shelves behind her.

"But neither are you," he added.

That stopped her cold.

"What did you say?"

"You think your dreams started out of nowhere?" he asked. "They didn't. You're changing. Waking up. And the reason it's happening now is because your blood is calling."

She shook her head. "My blood?"

"Your blood isn't normal," he said softly. "It's rare. Ancient. Moon-touched. That's why I can feel you. Why I've dreamed of you since before we ever met."

Keisha's voice trembled. "You're crazy."

"No." His gaze locked with hers. "I'm a werewolf."

She froze.

Everything in her mind screamed no, but her gut... her body... believed him.

Because deep down, some part of her already knew.

Later that night, Keisha sat on the living room couch, wrapped in a blanket. The rain had started falling outside, soft but steady. Kristy paced in front of the TV, holding a wine glass.

"He said what?" she asked, nearly spilling it.

Keisha stared at the floor. "He said he's a werewolf. And that I'm... something too."

Kristy sat down beside her. "Okay, this is where I'd usually laugh and make a Twilight joke, but your face says this isn't funny."

"It's not," Keisha whispered.

Kristy studied her. "Do you believe him?"

Keisha hesitated. "I don't want to. But I do."

Kristy drained the rest of her wine. "Alright. Time to tell you something I've never told anyone."

Keisha blinked. "What?"

Kristy looked nervous for the first time ever. She pulled her knees up and hugged them. "My family... they weren't normal either. My grandma was a hunter. The kind that tracks supernatural creatures. Wolves, vampires, demons. I thought it was just stories when I was little, but... I saw things. Things I can't unsee."

Keisha stared at her.

"And now you're telling me you met a real werewolf? That he says your blood is special?" Kristy shook her head. "This is big, Keesh. Bigger than both of us."

Keisha's hands gripped the blanket tighter.

Kristy reached out and took her hand. "Whatever you are, whatever's happening, I'm not letting you face it alone. We ride or die, remember?"

Keisha smiled weakly. "Ride or die."

Later that night, while Keisha brushed her teeth, she noticed something strange.

A mark on her collarbone.

She leaned closer to the mirror, heart starting to race. It wasn't a bruise. It wasn't a scar. It looked like... a symbol. Faint, silvery. Like it had been burned into her skin with light.

She touched it gently.

A sharp wave of heat ran through her chest, then her belly.

And then, without warning, she saw him.

Not in front of her.

In her mind.

Damian. Standing shirtless in the rain, head tilted back, eyes closed. As if he could feel her watching him.

She gasped and stumbled back, grabbing the sink.

The vision faded instantly.

Her mark still pulsed.

On the other side of town, Damian opened his eyes.

He felt her.

The bond had started.

And now, nothing could break it.

Not time. Not fear.

Not even Lucien Devereaux.

Lucien stood on the balcony of his penthouse, watching the storm roll in. He swirled a glass of dark red wine, his eyes glowing faintly gold in the reflection of the window.

He'd seen the girl.

And more importantly, he'd felt her.

Keisha Reed.

Moon-touched. Pure-blooded. Untouched by pack law.

He smiled to himself.

Damian may have found her first...

But he wouldn't keep her.

Not for long.