Page 107 of Shadowed Whispers

Dropping my head into my hands, I nearly scrape my fingernails down my face.

I’m late.

Move.

I can’t.

A dark shadow moves past the window, and I jerk up, my heart hammering in my chest as I look out the window.

Clouds, it’s just clouds.

Can I just… skip the meeting? No.

Failure is not an option. If I fail, then I’ll lose my scholarship, and I can’t let that happen. My entire life depends on me graduating and doing something with my life. I just need to do it.

Get up.

I don’t. My thoughts swirl and swirl.

My shadow stretches across the room, morphing into the familiar form of a shadow wolf with glowing red eyes. A soft whine escapes her, a sound that resonates with the turmoil within me. As she nudges my hand and rests her head in my lap, I feel a connection to her, as if we are one and the same.

I still haven’t named her.

I run my fingers through her fur, which feels startlingly real and comforting. Her watchful eyes reflect the same restless energy that courses through me, a silent reminder that the supernatural is inextricably linked to the chaos of this night.

The wolf’s presence comforts me, but it doesn’t quell the anxiety gnawing at me. I take a deep breath, forcing myself to stand. My legs feel shaky, but the wolf nudges me gently, her eyes full of silent encouragement.

“Okay, okay,” I mutter, feeling foolish for talking to a shadow wolf, but what’s considered foolish anymore? After everything I’ve seen, what’s one more leap into the unknown?

I pace the room, my thoughts returning to the game. That moment seemed like a hallucination, a trick of the mind, but now it feels undeniably real. The wolf I saw then was just like this one—red eyes, dark fur, an otherworldly presence. It wasn’t a figment of my imagination.

It was real.

The realization crashes over me, sending a shiver down my spine. If that was real, then what else have I been dismissing? What other truths have I been too scared to accept?

I sink back onto the bed, the wolf settling beside me. Her warmth seeps into my skin, grounding me in the present. I continue to stroke her fur, finding solace in the repetitive motion.

“I saw you,” I whisper. “At the game. You were there.”

Well, not her exactly, but a bigger, darker, more disturbing version of her.

The wolf’s eyes meet mine, and for a moment, I swear she understands. There’s an intelligence in her gaze that reassures me I’m not crazy.

The knot in my stomach loosens just a fraction, enough to remind me that I have a meeting to get to and a life to fight for. With one last stroke of the wolf’s fur, I stand, determination hardening my resolve.

A knock on the door startles me, jolting me back to the present, and my heart leaps into my throat.

“Come in,” I call, my voice steadier than I feel as I reach down and grab my backpack. The door creaks open, and I brace myself for whatever—or whoever—is on the other side.

Just as it opens, my wolf sinks into the floor, disappearing.

Matteo leans against the doorframe, his dark eyes scanning the room before they settle on me. There’s a gravity in his expression that pulls me in, making the room feel smaller. The scent of rain and earth clings to him, mingling with the lingering scent of my wolf, making me hyperaware of his presence.

“I figured you could use some company,” he says, his tone gentle but firm, leaving no room for argument.

“How did you know?” I ask, trying to mask the surprise in my voice.

“You skipped class,” he says calmly, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

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