Chapter 3: Whispers in the Dark

Bella

The quiet of the Helverd town library was a haven for me. It always had been. The musty scent of old pages, the creak of the wooden floors, and the endless rows of books offered a comforting escape from the world outside. I volunteered here after school, organizing books and helping the occasional patron who wandered in. It was my little sanctuary, a place where I could lose myself in stories and forget everything else.

That afternoon, the library was particularly still, the kind of silence that made every sound feel amplified. I had just finished shelving a stack of classics when I caught a glimpse of a dark figure in the corner of my eye. I turned instinctively, and there he was—Damian Blackwood.

He stood near the fiction section, his tall frame backlit by the golden rays streaming through the high windows. He looked so at ease, like he belonged in the shadows and the light simultaneously. There was something magnetic about him, something that made the air feel heavier, sharper, more alive.

For a moment, I froze. I wasn't sure whether to approach him or pretend I hadn't noticed him at all. But before I could decide, he turned his head and his eyes—those piercing gray eyes—locked onto mine.

"You like Austen?" he asked, his voice low and smooth, gesturing to the copy of Pride and Prejudice in my hand.

It took me a second to respond. "Uh, yeah. It's one of my favorites," I said, my voice a little shaky. "You've read it?"

"More than once," he replied, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "I suppose it's not a bad way to pass the time."

I found myself laughing softly, the tension between us easing just slightly. "You talk like you've had centuries to read."

He tilted his head, studying me with an expression I couldn't quite place. "Maybe I have."

I chuckled, assuming he was joking, though his tone left me with a strange, lingering feeling. We started talking about books, the conversation flowing surprisingly easily. He wasn't what I expected—not just a mystery but a paradox. He spoke with this effortless eloquence, as though he'd lived through the pages of every story he mentioned.

For the first time, I saw a different side of him. The guarded, distant aura he carried seemed to soften, just for a moment. It was like peeling back a layer and catching a glimpse of something rare and fragile underneath.

But just as I was starting to feel comfortable, he glanced at the clock and straightened, the moment shattering like glass. "I should go," he said quietly, his tone almost apologetic.

"Oh," I said, trying—and failing—to hide my disappointment. "Well, thanks for the conversation."

He hesitated, as if weighing his next words, and then gave me a small nod. "Goodbye, Bella."

The way he said my name sent an inexplicable shiver down my spine, like a secret wrapped in a single word. Before I could say anything else, he turned and walked out of the library, his movements so fluid it was almost like watching a shadow slip away into the night.

I stood there for a long moment, staring at the door he'd just walked through, my heart unsteady. Something about Damian Blackwood felt different—like he was more than he appeared, like he carried stories he wasn't ready to tell.

And for reasons I couldn't explain, I wanted to be the one to hear them.

That evening, I met Ethan outside the bookstore, just like we always did. The cobblestone streets of Helverd glowed faintly under the fading sunlight, and the crisp autumn air nipped at my cheeks. I pulled my scarf tighter around my neck as we began walking in comfortable silence—or at least, it should have been comfortable.

"You're quiet," Ethan said after a while, his tone light but curious. "What's on your mind?"

I hesitated for a moment, unsure if I should say anything. But Ethan and I had always been honest with each other. "I talked to Damian Blackwood today," I admitted.

Ethan stopped abruptly, and when I turned to face him, his expression had darkened. His usual easygoing demeanor was gone, replaced by something I couldn't quite place—concern? Anger? Fear?

"What?" he said, his voice sharp.

"He was in the library," I explained, trying to sound nonchalant. "We just talked about books. It wasn't a big deal."

"It is a big deal," Ethan snapped, his voice tense. "You need to stay away from him."

I frowned, confusion and annoyance bubbling up. "Why do you keep saying that? What's wrong with him?"

Ethan ran a hand through his hair, a gesture I recognized as frustration. He wouldn't look at me, his gaze fixed on the ground. "You don't know who he is. Who his family is."

"Then tell me," I said, crossing my arms. "Stop being so cryptic and just tell me."

Ethan let out a long sigh, his shoulders slumping as if the weight of the conversation was too much. "I can't," he said finally, his voice quieter but no less firm. "Just trust me, Bella. He's not someone you want to get involved with."

I stared at him, my frustration growing. "You can't just tell me to avoid someone without giving me a reason, Ethan. That's not fair."

He opened his mouth, as though ready to say something, but then closed it again. His jaw tightened, and his hands clenched into fists at his sides. It was like he was having an internal battle, torn between telling me the truth and keeping whatever secret he was holding.

Finally, he muttered, "I'm only trying to protect you."

"From what?" I demanded, my voice rising slightly. "If you're so worried, then tell me what's so dangerous about him!"

But Ethan didn't answer. He just started walking again, his strides longer and faster than before, leaving me struggling to keep up.

The silence that fell between us was heavy, filled with unspoken words and unanswered questions. I wanted to press him further, but the tension in his posture stopped me. Whatever this was, it wasn't just a passing concern for him—it was deeper than that, something I couldn't yet understand.

As we approached my house, Ethan finally slowed, his face softening slightly. "Just promise me you'll be careful," he said quietly, his eyes searching mine.

I hesitated, torn between the trust I had in Ethan and the nagging curiosity Damian had awakened in me. Finally, I nodded. "Okay. I'll be careful."

It wasn't a promise to avoid Damian, but it was enough to ease Ethan's tension, at least for now.

But as I watched Ethan walk away, I couldn't shake the feeling that he was hiding something. And that something had everything to do with Damian Blackwood.

---

The Blackwood Estate

Meanwhile, at the edge of Helved, the Blackwood Estate loomed like a relic from another era. Its stone walls were draped in ivy, and the windows glowed faintly in the twilight. Inside, Damian stood in his father's study, enduring Lucius Blackwood's cold scrutiny. He put his palm to his father's hand.

"You've been spending time with the mortal girl," Lucius said, his voice low and menacing.

"She's harmless," Damian replied, his tone neutral.

"She's a distraction," Lucius snapped. "And distractions lead to mistakes. Have you forgotten why you're here?"

"No," Damian said, his jaw tightening.

Lucius leaned forward, his gaze sharp as a blade. "Then act like it. The peace we've maintained for centuries is fragile. It takes only one careless moment to shatter everything."

Damian met his father's glare, his calm demeanor betraying nothing of the turmoil inside him. "I haven't forgotten our laws. But I won't be dictated by fear, either."

Lucius's lips curled into a thin smile. "You will if you value your place in this family."

Damian didn't respond. Instead, he turned and walked out of the study, the weight of his father's words heavy on his shoulders.

A Night of Restlessness

That night, Bella sat at her desk, her hand hovering over the journal, but no words came to her. Her thoughts were clouded, filled with a whirlwind of confusion. Why did Ethan avoid Damian so fiercely? What had happened between them? And why, despite all the reasons she should stay away, couldn't she stop thinking about Damian?

Her fingers traced the edges of the journal, as if the simple act could bring some clarity, but nothing changed. Every time she closed her eyes, his face lingered in her mind, his presence in the room still so vivid. It wasn't just his looks or the way he carried himself—there was something about him, a tension, a pull that made it impossible to ignore.

Across town, Damian stood in the shadowed silence of his room, staring out the window toward the flickering lights of Helved. His father's voice echoed in his head, warning him to stay away from her, to keep his distance from the Greysons. But those words battled with another sound—the sound of Bella's voice, light and unguarded.

For years, Damian had followed his family's path, keeping control, never letting anyone get too close. But Bella had slipped through those defenses without him even realizing it. She had gotten under his skin, stirring something in him that felt both intoxicating and dangerous.

As he whispered to the empty room, the words barely leaving his lips, he knew they were a lie. "I should stay away from her."

The moment the words left his mouth, he knew the truth. He couldn't. He wouldn't.

Black Wolf

Bella

After that night, I found myself drifting through class, my thoughts spiraling in endless circles. No matter how hard I tried to focus, my mind kept returning to the same questions: What did Ethan know about Damian that I didn't? Why was he so insistent I stay away from him?

Could Damian really be dangerous? It didn't feel that way. In fact, when I was with him, I felt… safe. It didn't make sense, but I couldn't shake the certainty. There was something about him that made me believe I had nothing to fear.

I glanced at his seat, half-expecting to see him slouched there, looking bored yet somehow in control of the room. But it was empty. Damian was absent today, and the strange weight of his absence settled over me.

After class, I decided to take a walk to clear my head. The air was crisp, and the path through the woods felt like an escape. My feet carried me without thought, the quiet rustle of leaves and the occasional chirp of birds offering a sense of peace I hadn't realized I needed.

As I wandered deeper into the woods, I heard the gentle sound of water flowing. Following the noise, I found myself by a river. The place was serene, the kind of quiet that seemed to hold the world still. The sunlight filtered through the trees, casting dappled patterns on the water.

I slipped my bag off my shoulder and pulled out a book, settling on a smooth patch of grass by the riverbank. The silence wrapped around me like a blanket, and for the first time in days, my thoughts quieted. The questions, the confusion, even the pull I felt toward Damian—they all faded into the background as I let myself sink into the calm of the moment.

As I lay by the river, soaking in the calm and silence, a sudden sound caught my attention. The soft crunch of leaves somewhere behind me. At first, I thought it might just be the wind, but the sound was too deliberate, too heavy. My chest tightened as I realized it wasn't a person—it sounded like an animal.

I stood up slowly, my body stiff with tension. When I turned around, I froze. My breath caught in my throat, and my heart pounded wildly.

There it was.

A massive black wolf, its size unlike anything I had ever seen before, stood just a few feet away. Its fur was so dark it seemed to swallow the light around it, and its glowing eyes locked onto mine. I couldn't move, couldn't breathe. It was as if some unseen force held me in place, pinning me under its gaze.

My chest felt tight, my legs trembling, but I couldn't look away. The wolf didn't growl or move aggressively—it just stood there, watching me, its eyes intense and… knowing. Like it wanted to tell me something, but how could that be possible?

Finally, it moved, circling slowly around me. My body screamed at me to run, but I couldn't make myself move. It stopped, standing a short distance away, staring at me in complete silence.

And then, it started walking toward me.

I stumbled backward instinctively, my hands trembling as I moved one slow step at a time. My heart was racing so fast I thought it might burst. I didn't know what to do, what it wanted.

"Bella! Bella!"

The sound of my name ripped through the tense silence. My head snapped toward the voice, and relief washed over me. Ethan. He was running toward me, his voice desperate and breathless.

"Ethan," I whispered, barely audible.

He reached me in seconds, stepping in front of me and placing himself between me and the wolf. Without thinking, I clung to his back, pressing myself against him. His skin was warm, and it hit me then—he wasn't wearing a shirt. But I was too shaken to focus on that.

Ethan's entire body was tense as he stared at the wolf. He didn't move, didn't say a word. And the wolf, it just stood there, looking at him like it… recognized him. The air between them felt heavy, like something unspoken was passing between them.

After what felt like forever, the wolf finally turned. It walked away, calm and deliberate, disappearing into the shadows of the trees.

I exhaled shakily, my legs weak. Ethan turned to me, his hands cupping my face. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice full of worry.

I nodded, though my voice cracked as I replied, "Yeah, I'm okay."

"What was that?" I asked, my voice barely steady.

"I don't know," he said, but his eyes betrayed him. There was something there, a flicker of recognition. Did he know that wolf? No. That was impossible… wasn't it?

"Come on. Let's go home," Ethan said, taking my hand.

I didn't say anything on the way back, my mind too foggy to make sense of what had happened. The image of the wolf, its size, its eyes—it wouldn't leave me.

When we reached my house, Ethan stopped and turned to me again. "Are you sure you're okay?" he asked, his eyes searching mine.

"I'm okay," I said, though my voice still wavered.

"What were you doing out there?" he asked, softer this time.

"I just… needed some space. To think," I said.

Before I stepped inside, I turned to him, something nagging at me. "Wait. What about you? What were you doing out there? How did you know I was there?"

Ethan hesitated, his eyes darting away. "Uh… I was just walking," he said, his voice cracking slightly.

"Walking? In the woods? Without a shirt?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

He sighed, his expression shifting to frustration. "Bella, it doesn't matter what I was doing. What matters is that you're safe, okay?" His voice was firm, his eyes locking onto mine.

I nodded slowly. "Okay."

"Good. Now go inside," he said, his hand brushing mine briefly.

I stepped into the house, but before I closed the door, I glanced back at him one more time. His body, warm and strong, lingered in my mind. Once inside, I poured myself a glass of water and sat at the kitchen table.

My hands trembled as I replayed everything in my mind. The wolf, its piercing eyes, the strange calm it carried. No one in Helverd had ever mentioned anything like this before. No one had ever seen anything like it. And yet, it had been there. Watching me. And somehow, I couldn't shake the feeling that Ethan knew more than he was letting on.

That evening, as I lay in bed, my thoughts kept me awake. No matter how much I tried to push them away, the image of the giant wolf haunted me. "A giant wolf," I murmured to myself, the words barely audible in the quiet room. It felt impossible, like something out of a story. How could such a creature even exist?

But then Damian Blackwood slipped into my thoughts, and my chest tightened. I couldn't ignore the timing. What if Damian's absence the other day and the appearance of the wolf weren't just coincidences?

The more I thought about it, the more suspicious I became. Damian's demeanor—calm, collected, almost unnervingly composed—reminded me of the wolf's silent confidence. There was so much mystery surrounding him, so many unanswered questions. And then there was Ethan. The way he looked at the wolf… like he knew it. Was this why he warned me to stay away from Damian?

"No," I whispered, shaking my head. "I'm overthinking. Damian? Becoming a wolf? That's ridiculous." But no matter how much I tried to convince myself, part of me couldn't let it go. Another part, though, insisted it wasn't him.

By morning, I still hadn't found any answers, only more questions. As I walked to school with Ethan, I caught sight of Damian up ahead. He walked with his usual calm stride, hands tucked in his pockets as though the world around him didn't exist.

I couldn't stop staring at him, trying to piece everything together. Ethan noticed. His expression shifted, his jaw tightening.

"Bella, let's go this way," Ethan said abruptly, pointing to a narrow path. "It's a shortcut to school."

I glanced at him, noting the tension in his voice. It was clear—he was trying to steer me away from Damian.

In class, I couldn't help but steal glances at Damian, watching him closely. I was searching for something—some clue, some sign—but he seemed so normal, so… human. When he caught me looking, his gaze met mine, calm and unreadable. He raised an eyebrow slightly, as if to ask what I was staring at, but otherwise gave no indication of knowing anything.

That afternoon, I sat on a bench on campus, a book in my hands. Ethan approached, jogging over to me.

"Bella," he called out, smiling. "Wane come with us? We're having a little celebration in the gym. The basketball club made it to the finals."

I shook my head. "No, I'm fine here," I said, glancing back down at my book.

"Are you sure?" he pressed.

"Yeah," I replied, giving him a small smile.

Ethan hesitated but eventually nodded and walked away, heading toward his teammates. As he disappeared, a familiar voice spoke from behind me, startling me.

"Why don't you go with them?"

I turned quickly to see Damian standing there, his hands in his pockets as usual.

"I… I don't really like loud places," I stammered, still surprised by his sudden appearance.

Damian sat on the other side of the bench, his movements casual.

"You're always appearing out of nowhere," I said, smirking slightly.

He smirked back. "Most people don't notice me. Maybe because I don't try to stand out."

I tilted my head, studying him. "Why don't you hang out with people? I've seen you—always walking alone, sitting alone, reading in some corner. Doesn't it get lonely? Sometimes it's good to have fun, you know. I don't think I've ever seen you laugh."

Damian leaned back slightly, his eyes drifting to the leaves falling from the nearby trees. "Sometimes being alone is its own kind of fun. And sometimes, being surrounded by people doesn't mean you're truly happy. I've seen enough to know the difference."

His words stopped me in my tracks. There was something in his tone, a wisdom that didn't match his age. It was like he'd experienced things far beyond what most people ever could.

I stayed silent, turning his words over in my head. But then my mind wandered back to the river, to the giant wolf. I wanted to ask him why he had been absent that day, to see if he had any connection to what I'd seen. But I couldn't bring myself to say the words.

Damian glanced at his phone, checking the time. "I have to go," he said, standing up.

"Uh, yeah. Take care," I replied, unsure of what else to say.

He looked at me, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "Thanks for the conversation."

And with that, he walked away, his figure fading into the distance. I watched him go, my thoughts spinning in endless circles. His words, his calmness, his mystery—it all stuck with me.

Who was Damian Blackwood?

He was unreadable, and yet, I couldn't stop trying to figure him out.

---

That evening, Damian lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling, una