The sun had dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the room and causing an orange glow, as Adeline sat on the attic floor, her fingers still trembling from the chill of the pendant she had just uncovered. She held the silver wolf's head between her fingers, its cool surface smoothing her uneasy thoughts. The eyes of the pendant were dull now, but Adeline could swear they had glowed faintly the moment she had touched it. It was as though something had recognized her touch—something ancient and powerful.
But the strangest part was how the pendant felt so... familiar. She didn't know how, but it was as though she had seen it before, or perhaps even owned it in another time. The thought made her shiver, her heartbeat quickening.
What was this? She had to know.
She quickly stood, clutching the pendant tightly in her palm, and headed down the stairs. The attic had grown stifling, as though the air itself was thick with unanswered questions. She wasn't sure what she was searching for, but something deep inside her told her she needed to keep going. This wasn't just about clearing out her grandmother's house anymore—it was about finding the truth.
The house felt strange as she descended, and with every creak of the floorboards, Adeline could swear she heard whispers. Distant murmurs, echoing from the walls. She paused for a moment at the top of the stairs, listening intently, but all was still. She had to have imagined it. Her nerves were fraying, nothing more.
"Addie?" Her grandmother's neighbour and best friend, Margaret's voice called out, breaking her concentration.
Adeline quickly tucked the pendant into her pocket and descended to the living room, where the elderly woman was standing, looking worried.
She hugged the woman warmly and sat down on one of the armchairs.
"It's so good to see you Margaret" She said.
"Same here, Addie. I heard noises and I came to check out what was happening" Margaret responded softly, sitting beside her.
"Oh, I was just trying to sort through my grandmother's things" Addie responded.
"There's something I want to show you," The elderly woman said. "Your grandmother gave me a box before she died. She actually instructed me not to open it till you're back, but I've been having these weird feelings and I opened it today. There are... strange things written in here, Addie. Things I don't understand."
"Strange how?" Adeline asked, her curiosity piqued.
Margaret bit her lip, hesitant. "It's hard to explain. But your grandmother—she wasn't just a sweet old lady who made jam and tended her garden. There's more to her than that. She... believed in things. Things I thought were just stories. Folk tales."
Addie narrowed her eyes. "What kind of things?"
Margaret took a deep breath, her hands now trembling as she held up a small, folded piece of paper. "This." She opened it slowly, revealing a yellowed page with delicate handwriting. Adeline leaned in to read.
_"The wolves are not just stories. The pack is real, and they walk among us. They wait for the right moment. For you, my dear. Be wary of the shadows that linger when the moon rises."_
Adeline's stomach dropped as she read the words. She couldn't deny the sense of déjà vu that crept over her. The wolves... it was the same thing she had seen in her grandmother's journal earlier.
"Adeline, what's going on?" Margaret asked, her voice barely above a whisper. "You've been acting strange ever since you came down. Are you feeling okay?"
Adeline closed her eyes for a moment, trying to steady her racing thoughts. "I... I also found something in the attic," she said, pulling the silver wolf pendant from her pocket. She placed it on the table between them, its eyes glinting in the dim light. "This belonged to her. It's like it's calling me. I don't know how to explain it, but it feels... important."
Margaret's face paled as she stared at the pendant, her eyes wide. She quickly reached out, her fingers hovering over the piece of jewelry. But she didn't touch it. Instead, she pulled back, as if something had repelled her. "Where did you find this?"
"In the attic, in a chest," Adeline said. "There's more in the chest—old symbols, pictures of people I don't recognize. But this... this was the only thing that caught my attention."
Margaret was silent for a long time, her gaze fixed on the pendant. Finally, she spoke, her voice shaking. "Adeline... you don't understand. Your grandmother wasn't just a believer in folklore. She was... part of something. Something much bigger than I ever let on."
"What do you mean?" Adeline asked, her voice rising with confusion.
Margaret looked at her, her eyes filled with sorrow and regret. "Your grandmother was connected to a werewolf clan. The Heathcliff Pack."
The words hit Addie like a slap.
Werewolves.
She had always dismissed the idea of supernatural creatures as ridiculous fairy tales.
But now, hearing it from Margaret's lips, the idea felt less like a fantasy and more like a chilling reality.
"What are you talking about? A werewolf clan?" Adeline's voice cracked.
Margaret nodded, her face pale. "I didn't know how to tell you this. I've kept it from you for years, hoping it was just a phase, hoping it would go away. But it hasn't. Your grandmother was born into that world. She had powers, Addie—powers that were passed down to you."
Adeline took a step back, feeling dizzy. "No. This doesn't make sense. I don't have powers."
The elderly woman's gaze softened, but there was no denying the truth in her eyes. "You do, Addie. And so does he."
The sentence hung in the air like a heavy fog, and Adeline's heart skipped a beat. She knew who the woman was talking about. Derrick Heathcliff. The man she had only just met—the man who seemed to follow her every move. He wasn't just some stranger. He was part of this world Margaret was revealing to her. A world she didn't understand, but felt drawn to in ways she couldn't explain.
"Derrick…" Elena whispered. "I thought he was just a man. A stranger."
"He's no stranger," Margaret replied quietly. "He's the alpha of the Heathcliff Pack. And he's been watching you for years."
Addie's pulse quickened as Margaret's words sunk in. He had been watching her. She had felt it, the strange pull that had drawn her to him even when they had first met. But she hadn't understood it—hadn't wanted to. But now it was clear.
Derrick wasn't just some man.
He was the leader of a werewolf clan, and she—Adeline—was connected to him in ways she couldn't yet comprehend.
A knock at the door interrupted their conversation, pulling them both back to the present. Adeline's heart skipped. The knock was urgent, and something about it felt... off.
"Adeline, stay here," Margaret said quickly, her voice filled with caution.
Before Adeline could protest, Margaret was already at the door. The moment Margaret opened it, Adeline's breath caught in her throat. Standing on the other side was Derrick Heathcliff, tall and imposing, his dark eyes locked onto hers. He was dressed in a simple black jacket and jeans, but the aura around him was anything but casual.
"Derrick," Margaret said, her voice tight. "What are you doing here?"
Derrick's gaze never left Adeline's face. "I've come to speak with Adeline. Alone."
Adeline's stomach twisted. The chill in the room seemed to drop several degrees. She could feel the air grow thick with tension. Something was wrong.
And then, in the silence that followed, Adeline felt it—a ripple in the air, like a dark wave crashing against the shore. She had no idea what was about to happen, but one thing was certain: she was no longer just a quiet woman in a small town. She was part of something far larger—and far more dangerous—than she had ever imagine.