The First Thread

The world stills around us.

The river murmurs at our feet, the breeze whispering through the trees, but all I hear is my own unsteady breath. I shouldn't be here.

I should turn and vanish before this goes any further. Before I let myself get pulled in deeper.

But he is looking at me like he's been waiting for me. Like he knew I would come back.

I don't move. Neither does he.

"You came back," he says, voice even, cautious.

I tilt my head, watching him as closely as he watches me. "You sound surprised."

His lips twitch, but he doesn't smile. "Should I be?"

I don't answer. I should be wary, but there's something about the way he looks at me—not with fear, but curiosity—that makes me hesitate.

"What are you doing out here?" I ask.

Liam exhales, his shoulders relaxing just slightly. "Couldn't sleep."

I nod, understanding more than I should. 

His gaze darts over me again, sharp but not unkind. "You don't seem like you're just out for a walk."

I smirk faintly. "And you don't seem like you're just here to admire the river."

He chuckles, the sound brief, but real. "Guess that makes two of us."

Something about the way he says it makes my chest tighten. Why isn't he afraid?

Humans have instincts, buried deep, that warn them when something isn't right. So why does he stay?

A gust of wind ripples across the water, and I see it again—the shadow.

It's something moving too fast, too fluidly, for human eyes to catch. But I see it. And my instincts roar in recognition.

He shivers slightly, rubbing his arms. "That's weird," he mutters, almost to himself.

I tilt my head. "What is?"

He hesitates, then shakes his head. "Nothing. Just… felt something."

I say nothing, but I watch him closer. He felt it.

Then something strange happens.

A name presses against my tongue—his name. I feel it before I hear it. Liam.

It happened earlier but chose to neglect it. How?

The realization slams into me like a tidal wave. How do I know that?

He never said it. I never asked. Yet, the name forms so naturally in my mind, as if it's always been there, waiting to be spoken.

My fingers twitch at my sides. What is this?

A trick? A fragment of something deeper? This isn't normal.

Not even for me.

"Liam," I say, testing it, watching for his reaction.

He twitches, his brows drawing together. "I never told you my name."

 "Didn't you?" I say.

Liam tilts his head, studying me.

"No," he says slowly, eyes narrowing. "I didn't."

There is something suddenly behind his gaze—curiosity, suspicion.

I swallow, forcing a smirk. "Lucky guess."

Liam doesn't look convinced. He takes a step forward, closing the space between us just slightly. "You don't seem like someone who relies on luck."

I hold my ground. "And you don't seem like someone who questions fate."

His jaw tightens, but he doesn't press the issue. 

The river continues its lazy path, indifferent to the storm building between us.

Then, unexpectedly, Liam speaks. "Where are you from?"

The question catches me off guard. I should have expected it.

I force a small shrug. "Here. There. I don't stay in one place for long."

His gaze stays on me, as if weighing my words. "That's not an answer."

I smirk. "It's the only one you're getting."

Liam huffs a quiet laugh. "A traveler, then."

"That's one word for it."

The conversation shifts, easing into something quieter. I should leave, but I don't. Instead, I let myself stall, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, the slow rise and fall of his breath.

"Why do I feel like I've met you before?" Liam murmurs suddenly, eyes still locked onto mine.

"You haven't." I jab.

"But it doesn't feel that way."

His words settle heavily between us. Because maybe he's right. Maybe he has.

I step back. It's time to go.

Liam seems to sense it, his shoulders tensing. "You're leaving again, aren't you?"

I take a slow step back. I need to leave. Before he starts asking the right questions. Before I start wanting to answer them.

"It's late," I say, my voice steadier than I feel.

He doesn't move, but his gaze stays locked onto mine. "Will I see you again?"

I don't know the answer to that. But something in me whispers yes before I can stop it.

"Maybe," I say instead.

Liam exhales, shaking his head. "You really don't give much away, do you?"

I smirk, retreating further into the shadows. "Where's the fun in that?"

I turn, slipping into the darkness. But just before I vanish completely, I hear him mutter something under his breath.

"Aria."

I don't stop walking.

And then—

A rustling behind me.

Not Liam. Something else.

I freeze, the hairs on the back of my neck rising. The air shifts, carrying a scent that shouldn't be here. Something old. Something watching.

A whisper snakes through the trees, barely audible, a breath carried by the wind.

I turn just slightly, catching a glimpse of movement beyond the trees. A presence—silent, watching, waiting.

A low growl rumbles from the shadows, so faint I almost think I imagined it.

And then, in a breath, it's gone.

But the feeling is still there, pressing against my senses like an invisible hand wrapping around my throat.

I force myself to keep walking, even as my instincts scream at me to run.

Liam stays rooted in place, eyes narrowed at the darkness beyond me. He wants to ask. He doesn't.

Instead, his voice comes quiet, certain.

"This isn't over."

A single whisper drifts through the wind, a voice neither of us should be hearing.

"It never was."

I don't look back. But something tells me I should have.

And then, for the first time in a long time, I feel something close to fear. 

It's close to what I feel when the bite came. Soul draining.