Read My Werewolf Boyfriend :: Shadows in the Mountains

The winding road through the dense forest was barely illuminated by the flickering headlights of the car. Emma leaned her head against the cool window, the rhythmic hum of the engine lulling her into a sense of calm.

Grace, her best friend since high school, was asleep beside her, her head resting on Emma’s shoulder. On the other hand, Owen Thomas, the charismatic senior leading their expedition, was animatedly recounting a story about his last adventure in these mountains.

“So, there I was, standing on the edge of a cliff, with nothing but my wits and a rope that looked like it belonged in a museum,” Owen said, his voice carrying a hint of theatrics. “And let me tell you, Emma, the view from up there—it’s like nothing you’ve ever seen.”

Emma chuckled, her green eyes sparkling with amusement. “Sounds like you were one wrong step away from becoming a cautionary tale.”

Owen grinned, leaning forward slightly. “Maybe. But that’s what makes it exciting, right? Life’s too short to play it safe.”

Grace stirred, mumbling something unintelligible before settling back into sleep. Emma glanced out the window again, the towering pines casting long shadows in the moonlight. “I’ve never been this far out before,” she admitted. “It’s... different.”

“Different good or different bad?” Owen asked, his tone teasing.

“Different... intriguing,” Emma replied with a small smile.

The car came to a halt outside a rustic lodge, its wooden facade weathered by years of exposure to the elements. The group filed out, stretching their limbs after the long drive. Owen took charge, his voice cutting through the chilly night air. “Alright, everyone, grab your gear and let’s get checked in. We’ve got an early start tomorrow.”

As Emma hefted her backpack onto her shoulders, she noticed a man standing at the edge of the lodge’s porch. His dark eyes locked onto hers, and for a moment, the world seemed to pause. He was tall, with an air of quiet intensity that set him apart from the rest of the group. His lips moved slightly, and though she couldn’t hear him, the word he mouthed was unmistakable: “Idiot.”

Emma blinked, taken aback. “Excuse me?” she said, her voice sharp.

The man didn’t respond. Instead, he turned on his heel and disappeared into the shadows of the lodge. Emma frowned, her heart pounding in her chest. Grace, now fully awake, nudged her. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Emma lied, shaking her head. “Just... thought I saw something.”

Owen approached, his expression concerned. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Emma said, forcing a smile. “Just tired, I guess.”

As they entered the lodge, the warmth of the crackling fireplace enveloped them. Emma couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off, but she pushed the thought aside. After all, this was supposed to be an adventure. And adventures were rarely without their mysteries.

But as she glanced back at the door, she couldn’t help but wonder: What had that man meant? And why had he singled her out? The answers, she suspected, were hidden somewhere in the shadows of the mountains.

The clock on the nightstand blinked 2:17 AM. Emma lay in bed, the silence of the old countryside guesthouse pressing down on her like a thick blanket. Then, a crash—sharp, sudden—from the room next door. Owen’s room.

She sat up, her heartbeat echoing in her ears. “Owen?” she whispered, more to herself than anyone else. Another thud, followed by a low growl that made her skin crawl.

Grabbing the heavy brass lamp from the bedside table, she crept to the door. Her hand hovered over the knob. “What the hell is going on?” she muttered, her voice trembling.

She pushed the door open, the hinges creaking softly. The room was a wreck—furniture overturned, curtains torn, and in the center of it all, Owen, locked in a desperate struggle with… something. A massive, wolf-like creature, its eyes glowing like embers in the dark.

“Emma, get out!” Owen shouted, his voice strained as he dodged a swipe of the creature’s claws.

“Like hell I will!” she snapped, swinging the lamp with all her might. It connected with the creature’s side with a dull thud, and it snarled, retreating toward the shattered window.

Owen seized the moment, grabbing a broken chair leg and driving it toward the beast. It howled, a sound that seemed to shake the very walls, and leapt out into the night.

Emma stood there, breathing hard, the lamp still clutched in her hands. “What the hell was that?”

Owen wiped blood from a cut on his brow, his expression grim. “Something that shouldn’t be here.”

Back in her room, Emma collapsed onto the bed, her mind racing. The lamp lay discarded on the floor, its base dented. She stared at the ceiling, the image of those glowing eyes burned into her mind.

As the first rays of sunlight crept through the window, she finally drifted off, the question lingering in the air like a shadow.

The morning light spilled into the guesthouse’s cozy lobby, the scent of fresh coffee mingling with the woodsmoke from the fireplace. Emma descended the stairs, her eyes scanning the room for Owen. The night’s events felt like a fever dream, but the bruise on her arm told her otherwise.

“Sleep well?” the innkeeper asked, his tone too casual.

Emma forced a smile. “Like a baby.”

Her eyes met Owen’s across the room. He gave her a slight nod, his expression unreadable. Something was coming, she could feel it. And whatever it was, it wasn’t finished with them yet.

The morning light filtered through the lace curtains of the quaint B&B, casting delicate patterns on the wooden floor. Emma sat in the cozy lobby, sipping her coffee, her mind still racing from the events of the previous night. The aroma of freshly baked scones mingled with the scent of aged wood, creating a comforting yet uneasy atmosphere.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of boots clicking against the hardwood floor. She looked up to see the mysterious man from last night standing in the doorway, his silhouette framed by the soft glow of the morning sun. His sharp features were accentuated by the shadows, and his piercing eyes locked onto hers.

"Morning," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Sleep well after your little adventure?"

Emma's grip tightened around her mug. "What do you want?"

"Just a friendly caution," he replied, stepping closer.

Emma's brow furrowed as she set her coffee down. "Who are you?"

"James Lee," he said curtly. "And you need to be careful. Not everyone is who they seem."

Emma stood up, her frustration mounting. "What are you talking about? And why should I trust you?"

James smirked, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "You shouldn't trust anyone. Especially Owen Thomas."

Before Emma could respond, he turned on his heel and walked out the door, leaving her standing there, her mind swirling with questions. The room felt colder now, the once comforting aromas now stifling.

Emma's phone buzzed in her pocket, pulling her out of her thoughts. She pulled it out to see a text from Owen: "Meet me at the café in 10. We need to talk."

Her heart raced as she stared at the screen. What did James know about Owen? And why was he warning her? She glanced back at the door, half expecting James to reappear, but he was gone.

As she grabbed her coat and headed out, the B&B's owner, Mrs. Thompson, called out from behind the counter, "Leaving so soon, dear?"

Emma forced a smile. "Yeah, just some errands to run."

Mrs. Thompson nodded, her eyes twinkling with a knowing look. "Be careful out there. Some doors shouldn't be opened."

Emma froze, the words echoing in her mind. Was it just a coincidence, or was there more to Mrs. Thompson's words? She shook off the uneasy feeling and stepped out into the crisp morning air, the weight of James's warning pressing on her shoulders.

The streets were quiet, the town still waking up. Emma's footsteps echoed against the cobblestones as she made her way to the café. Her mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, each more unsettling than the last. Who was James Lee? And what did he know about Owen?

As she approached the café, she saw Owen already seated at a corner table, his face etched with concern. He looked up as she entered, his eyes searching hers.

"Emma," he said, his voice tense. "We need to talk."

Emma sat down, her heart pounding. "What's going on, Owen?"

Owen leaned in closer, his voice low. "I think someone's been following me. And I think they're after you too."

Emma's breath caught in her throat. James's warning rang in her ears. Was he the one following Owen? Or was there someone else?

The café door chimed, and Emma turned to see a shadowy figure passing by the window. She couldn't make out the face, but the sense of unease deepened.

Owen reached across the table, his hand covering hers. "We need to stick together, Emma. Whatever's going on, we'll figure it out."

Emma nodded, but her mind was already racing ahead, piecing together the fragments of the puzzle. The game was far from over, and the stakes were higher than ever.