The coin Elias had given her was cool against Eva's palm, even hours later. She hadn't spent it—couldn't quite bring herself to. It was an old silver shilling, worn smooth with use, and she rolled it around in her fingers as she climbed into bed that night. The attic room felt cold, despite the summer, the wind whistling through gaps in the eaves. She wondered if Elias felt the cold, up in that crumbling manor. Or if whatever blood ran in his veins kept him warm, even in the heart of winter.

There were whispers in the dark, tonight, louder than usual. Not the wind, though that whined, too, but something else. A sibilant rustle, like leaves dragged across stone, and the high-pitched keening of something small in pain. Eva shivered, pulling the thin blankets higher. She told herself it was just her imagination, fueled by a strange encounter and village superstitions. But she hadn't grown up in Ashwood. She didn't have the luxury of comforting lies.

Sleep came fitfully and late, plagued by glimpses of storm-grey eyes and the scent of pine.

When she woke, the sun was barely up, painting the eastern sky in pale ribbons of pink and grey. She rose, dressed quickly, and headed downstairs, hoping to lose herself in the rhythm of baking bread. But Mrs. Maudlin was already at the ovens, her face tight and drawn.

"Oh, Eva, you're here. Good." She spoke without looking up, kneading dough with a brutal force. "I need you to run an errand."

Eva frowned. "But the morning rush..."

"It can wait. This is more important." Mrs. Maudlin wiped her hands on her apron and turned, her gaze intense. "Take this to Maggie Abernathy. She lives in the old mill, south of town, by the river." She handed Eva a small, tightly wrapped package. "Tell her... tell her it's from a friend. And wait for a response."

Eva took the package, her unease deepening. Maggie Abernathy was a strange woman, rumored to be a witch. The devout villagers gave her a wide berth, and even the children were warned away from her dilapidated mill.

"What is it?" Eva asked, unable to keep the concern from her voice.

"Doesn't matter. Just deliver it. And be careful." Mrs. Maudlin turned back to her work, her shoulders hunched.

Eva didn't need more urging. She slipped out the back door, the package clutched tight. The air was damp and heavy with the smell of dying leaves, and the woods seemed to press closer to the village than usual. She kept to the main road, despite Mrs. Maudlin's admonition the day before, the urgency in her instructions overriding her caution.

The old mill was a crumbling ruin, its waterwheel gone long ago, windows broken and blackened. The river ran beside it, sluggish and dark, reflecting the overcast sky. A single light flickered in one of the upper windows, a weak beacon in the gloom.

Eva hesitated at the gate, a rusting iron monstrosity that hung crookedly on its hinges. She could hear the rush of the river, the creak of the old building in the wind. The scent of damp earth and decaying wood filled the air, overlaid with something else—something sharp and acrid that made her nose wrinkle.

Taking a deep breath, she pushed open the gate and walked up the overgrown path to the mill's front door. She knocked, a hesitant rap that seemed to echo in the silence.

A long moment passed. Then, the door creaked open, revealing a woman as gaunt and weathered as the mill itself. Maggie Abernathy was ancient, her face a web of wrinkles, her eyes dark and piercing. She wore a long, shapeless dress the color of mud, and her gray hair hung down her back in tangled strands.

"What do you want?" she croaked, her voice like gravel.

Eva swallowed, holding out the package. "Mrs. Maudlin sent me. She said... she said to give you this. From a friend."

Maggie Abernathy's eyes narrowed. She snatched the package, her fingers bony and cold. "Wait here." She disappeared inside, leaving Eva standing on the doorstep, exposed to the damp wind and the woman's dark eyes.

Minutes stretched on. Eva's unease grew with each passing second. She was about to knock again when the door creaked open once more. Maggie Abernathy thrust a small, sealed envelope into her hand.

"Give this back to Maudlin. Tell her... tell her the bargain is struck." Her eyes flickered with a strange light. "And tell her she knows what's coming. And that you tell nobody of this."

Eva took the envelope, her head swimming. "What bargain? What's coming?"

Maggie Abernathy's lips twisted into a humorless smile. "None of your concern, child. Now go. And don't come back." She slammed the door, leaving Eva alone once more.

Eva didn't waste any time. She turned and ran, back down the path, back to the road, back towards the village. She could feel Maggie Abernathy's gaze on her back, burning like a brand.

When she reached the bakery, she found Mrs. Maudlin pacing inside, her face pale. Eva handed her the envelope.

Mrs. Maudlin snatched it, tearing it open with trembling hands. She read the contents, her eyes widening in horror.

"What does it say?" Eva asked, her voice barely a whisper.

Mrs. Maudlin looked up, her expression stricken. "It says... it says we're out of time." She stared at Eva, her gaze filled with a mixture of fear and...something else. Something that made Eva's blood run cold.

"Eva, there's something you need to know," she said, her voice trembling. "Something about this village. About the Pack. And about you."

Before she could say another word, a low growl echoed outside, cutting through the morning calm. The growl was raw, animalistic, and filled with a primal rage that made the hairs on Eva's neck stand on end.

Mrs. Maudlin's eyes widened in terror. "No... it can't be..."

The bakery door splintered inward, wood flying. Standing in the doorway was a figure that made Eva's heart stop: a man, tall and broad-shouldered, but contorted with a feral fury. His eyes glowed with an unnatural light, his teeth bared in a snarl. He was half-man, half-wolf, a creature of nightmare given flesh.

Elias Greyback.

His gaze locked on Eva, and in that moment, she knew. The rules had changed. The secrets had been revealed. And she was caught in the crossfire.

He lunged.