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Kade can feel Rosy’s hands on his shoulders, his face, but then she screams. Kade feels like he’s being ripped apart, like every bone in his body is breaking.
And then Kade tastes blood.
Kade jerks awakeso fast he almost screams. Sitting up on Elara’s bedroom floor, he clutches his chest as he scrambles backwards towards the wall. His fear is making his heart beat out of control, and it takes all the control he can muster to roll his body out her bedroom window before the sound of his panic wakes her.
He hits the ground outside her window with a loud thump, the wind knocked out of his lungs. He doesn't move. He lies there, unable to function, unable to breathe, until his phone vibrates in his pocket.
Kade sucks in a labored breath, pain blooming in his ribcage, and reaches into his back pocket to pull out my smartphone and read the message.
She’s the one, there's no doubt about it. You did the right thing. Now make sure she doesn’t get away. Make sure she’s ready for this. I’m counting on you.
Kade’s mind flashes back to the night Guy saved him, and he sees Guy in his mind’s eye as he reads his text. Kade owes Guy his life, he owes Guy his very existence. No matter whathappened to Kade, no matter what he’s done, that is the one constant in his life.
Kade will not betray him.
He will fulfill the prophecy.
7
Elara
Elara stops outside the college cafe, about to draw in a deep breath only to stop herself. She really should know by now that’s not a good idea. Then again, a week ago, she wouldn’t have thought twice about doing it…
She takes a step toward the door, conscious she’s running late, when a car backfires and she startles, her hand flying to her throat. Elara looks around, trying to find where such a surprising sound came from only to register there’s no car nearby. The college cafe is tucked next to the library, a pretty little courtyard in front of it. She stills as she realizes that the car that backfired is a parking lot away, too far for her to actually hear the noise that it made. What’s more, the students wandering past show no sign of having heard it.
Elara presses her hand to her chest, trying to settle her pulse. It shouldn't be possible for her to hear something that far away. Just add it to the list of things that make no sense since…since she was scratched by the wolf.
Since that night on the side of the highway, everything has changed. Nothing big, more so lots of little things. The carbackfiring is a classic example. She suddenly hears things she shouldn't be able to, as well as seeing things that are entirely too far for human eyes to see. Her sense of smell is heightened to the point of nearly making her nauseous every time she passes the trash cans outside of the mess hall, an area that she avoids whenever she can. What’s more, the scratches healed quickly, so quickly that the stitches had already dissolved before she could get back to the hospital to have them taken out. All that’s left are faint white scars. She’s not sure if she’s relieved there’s no more evidence of the attack. She wants to just forget it and move on.
At the same time, it’s the only proof of what’s feeling more and more like a catalyst. A critical point where her life has taken a new trajectory. A defining moment she didn’t want.
Elara shakes her head, telling herself she’s being dramatic. Her emotions are just as haywire as her senses at the moment. The attack unsettled her more than she realized.
Conscious she’s stopped just a few feet from the cafe door, she straightens her spine and walks toward it. This will pass with time.
It has to.
She’s just put her hand on the door when she glances over her shoulder. The movement’s become reflexive now. Almost a habit. Although she doesn’t know why she bothers. There’s no sight of him.
Kade’s disappeared. She hasn’t seen him since that night outside her bedroom window.
Pushing through, Elara knows she should be relieved. A part of her is. Another part can’t help but wonder why.
Before she can think any further on it, she’s assaulted with all the reasons she purposefully didn’t rush to get here on time. So many sights. So many sounds. And the smells… Fragrant coffee, warm muffins—raspberry and macadamia—overwhelming, too-sweet perfume.
“Elara! Over here!” Kira waves from near the back, ignoring the glances her furious motion elicits.
Keeping her breath shallow, Elara makes her way over. She covers her wince at the thundering sound of a barista banging out coffee grounds and someone else shouting to a friend to find out whether the croissants are gluten free.
“I can’t wait for tonight,” says a hushed female voice somewhere to her left. “I’ve bought chocolate sauce and everything.” This time, the words are whispered, the excitement obvious.
Flushing, Elara rushes past. There have been so many conversations over the past week she’s been privy to that she really wished she wasn’t.
She reaches the table and quickly sits down, conscious of the bead of sweat trickling down her spine. She feels like she just ran a gauntlet. A sensory one.
Jordyn glances at her smartwatch. “You’re late,” she says, more as an observation. “That’s not like you.”
It’s true. Elara prefers to be punctual. In the same way she prefers to be honest. Yet, both of those have become harder and harder of late.
