Page 8 of Howling Holidays

"Same here." I rub the back of my neck. "I'm glad you’re here, Emily, despite the circumstances."

She gives a small, sad smile. "Me too."

We stand in silence for a beat, the snow falling softly around us. I clear my throat. "Well, I'll let you get to your errands. But call me if you need anything, okay?"

Emily promises she will. With a final lingering glance, Emily heads off toward the inn. I watch her go, struck by how quickly I've come to care for this near stranger. As she walks on, I ignore my wolf's protests at her departure. As alpha, I know I can’t get involved with anyone, especially an outsider. I respect the wisdom of our traditions too much to let vulnerability override caution.

I can’t seem to get Emily off my mind all through the afternoon, hoping she’s finding some peace here. But darkness brings another wave of grim unease. Tonight, the bitter wind seems to carry eerie whispers meant only for my ears. It feels ominous, and even though they don’t mention it, my pack seems to pick up on the energy too.

After a long day working at the tree farm, I make my way to the woods with part of my pack, ready to run free and clear my mind. The hair on my back rises as we trek our way toward the sacred stone. I ran patrols most nights, with the help of a few others, but tonight's errand holds a deeper purpose. Something ancient and malignant seems to haunt Everwood's boundaries, just out of sight.

The Angst Moon is tonight, and my reflective state turns ominous as deep shadows seem to creep over the valley. We continue on our path, anxious for our ancestor’s centering energy. But my wolf bristles with unease rather than anticipation. Our nostrils flare, detecting menace on the frigid air. A hint of sulfur and iron not of this earth.

Suddenly an uneasy feeling washes over me that stops me in my tracks. The unseen eyes we sensed watching Emily the previous night are now fixed squarely on me. Observing. Appraising. A presence tied to the ancient magics of this land yet corrupted somehow by more sinister forms of power. I can’t quite tell what stalks the darkness around me, but its venomous hatred radiates clearly. I feel violated by its scouring gaze, as if my bones lay exposed.

I quickly shed my clothes beside the stone, letting the frigid air raise goosebumps on my bare skin. This is not a night for warmth or comfort. Even if not tonight, a fight lays ahead, I can feel it.

"I call upon the Ancestors to stand guard with me. Lend me ferocity so that no evil shall pass into our territory." The words of my request smoke through the icy air. I kneel to the frozen earth, letting the power of the wolf course through my veins.

When I straighten up, spine elongating, fingers curling into claws, the shift comes quicker than ever before. Excitement giving way to bloodlust. The wolf knows a long-awaited battle is near.

We throw back our head in a long, bone-chilling howl. Any predator hiding in the night will show itself now, called forth by my challenge. I will face it with unmatched fury, protecting the truce my kind maintains with humanity. There will be no casualties in Everwood on my watch, human or shifter.

My other pack members quickly shift themselves and take off on their patrol rounds in their designated areas. I run, swift and sleek as moonlight, patrolling the outskirts of town for signs of any unnatural presence. The sick scent of malevolence grows sharper near the north ravines bordering the town. Still, we see no signs but shadows swaying in these remote crags.

I’m not afraid of anything, but my hackles rise in response to anyone or anything that would do us harm. This entity rejects the delicate balance my kind struggles to maintain in Everwood since the truce. It craves chaos, the spilling of innocent blood. But it has misjudged my determination to guard what is mine. I will die defending those under my protection from whatever it wants to inflict on us.

I run through the forest trying to evade its scouring gaze and these thoughts, if only for a little while. I long to be free of all thoughts and the weight of responsibility as alpha. I run for hours, what feels like days, even. This powerful energy inside me never seems to lose force, and I lose track of time.

By the time I make it back to the sacred stone deep in the forest, the writhing shadows around me have dispersed like mist in the moonlight. But I know this is temporary. This nameless force is here for chaos and vengeance. It will return again and again, probing my defenses for weakness. Tonight is merely an opening in a new war being waged for Everwood's soul.

I rest my palm on the etched carvings of the standing stone, drawing calm from its primordial magic. The wolf and I will fight side by side, as was ordained since the First Days. No cursed byproduct of the magic arts can withstand the lunar power passed down through generations of shifter guardians. I have no illusions about the struggle looming. But those who had come before me endured far worse to safeguard our home, and I will not falter now.

As I shed the wolf's skin and return home to my grandmother, one foreboding thought hardens within me. Emily's arrival suddenly doesn’t feel like a coincidence at all. She seems to bring with her change that can tip Everwood's fate toward salvation or ruin. A lot depends on the path we walk from here. But I will protect Emily from anything that comes our way, even at the risk of my own life. And I will face the storm gathering over this beloved town without a flinch.

Chapter six

Emily

MytimeinEverwoodseems to blur together in a flurry of funeral preparations, festive bustle, and cozy hours tucked away writing in my room at the inn. I settle into a comfortable routine - mornings spent at the diner having breakfast with Logan and chatting with locals, exploring the town’s eclectic shops, running errands, afternoons writing or wandering the snowy backroads alone with my thoughts, evenings enjoying the inn's homey suppers and Harold's amusing stories. My favorite moments though are my daily breakfasts with Logan anchoring each day. Even though we just met, there is a familiar, comforting presence about him that I just can’t shake. I find myself wanting to spend more and more time with him. Of course, I’m attracted to him, but there is something more there beneath the surface that I can’t quite put my finger on.

Everwood is a town full of secrets and whispers, its legends and folklore woven into the very fabric of its existence. I find myself drawn to these tales, eager to unravel the mysteries hidden beneath the surface. As I walk through the quaint town square, I can't help but notice the way the townspeople look at me with curiosity and a hint of suspicion.

My curiosity about this town's secrets grows stronger by the day. Hints and odd remarks dropped casually by longtime residents leave me certain there is more here than meets the eye. Most laugh off my curious questions about Everwood's rumored ancient curse and supernatural mysteries. Just quaint rural folklore, they claim. But their body language is too tense, their eyes cutting away. They fear sharing too much, and I know there has to be more than they are letting on.

One morning in the general store, while browsing hand-carved angel ornaments, I overhear two elderly women discussing the recent full moon. "The wolves were out again last night," one remarks in a hush. "I spotted their shadows crossing the meadow when I went to shut the chickens in." The other clucks her tongue disapprovingly. "We'll have the young folks getting riled up with talk like that, Martha. Best keep it amongst ourselves." They disperse before I can get closer or ask any questions.

"Miss Reynolds," Bonnie Albright, an elder in the community, greets me one morning as she’s decorating the town hall entrance. "How are you enjoying your visit to our little town?"

"Hello, Mrs. Albright," I reply with a warm smile. "I wish I were here under better circumstances, but Everwood has quite the charm especially during the holiday season. It’s helpful being surrounded by so much cheer during this difficult time."

"Your grandmother was a dear friend of mine, and I know she would be happy to see you here," she says, her eyes shining with unspoken stories. "You know, Everwood has a rich history filled with fascinating legends."

"Really?" I asked, my curiosity piqued. "I've always been intrigued by the local lore."

"Ah, then you should speak with some of the other elders in town. They have plenty of folklore to share," Bonnie suggests with a knowing smile. "Just remember, sometimes truth hides within the tales we tell."

"Thank you, Mrs. Albright. I'll definitely keep that in mind," I respond, excited to finally have a solid lead on delving deeper into the town's mysteries.

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