Chapter 1: The Howl in the Dark

The night was thick with shadows, the moon a faint sliver peeking through drifting clouds, casting jagged patches of light across the dorm room window at Ravenwood University. Layla Hart sat cross-legged on her bed, an anthropology textbook propped open on her lap, its pages yellowed and dog-eared. The soft snoring of her roommate, Mira, filled the quiet, but Layla's focus kept slipping, her eyes heavy from a long day. Then it came—a low, guttural howl slicing through the stillness.

She bolted upright, her heart thudding against her ribs. It wasn't a normal animal cry—too deep, too deliberate, almost human. She slid off the bed, bare feet pressing against the cold wooden floor, and crept to the window. Outside stretched an endless sea of pine trees, their branches whispering in the wind. She squinted into the darkness, searching for the source.

There. A pair of stormy gray eyes glinted in the moonlight, locked on her. It was a wolf—bigger than any she'd ever seen, its silhouette massive and unnervingly still against the forest's edge. Her breath caught, fogging the glass. She leaned closer, her fingers brushing the windowpane, when the creature tilted its head, as if it knew her.

"Layla?" Mira's groggy voice broke the spell. "What're you doing?"

Layla flinched, spinning around. "Did you hear that?"

"Hear what?" Mira rubbed her eyes, her curly hair a tangled mess. "You're imagining things again. Probably just a coyote."

"It wasn't a coyote," Layla muttered, turning back to the window. But the eyes were gone. The forest was empty, the night silent again. She frowned, her pulse still racing. "It was... bigger."

Mira groaned, flopping back onto her pillow. "You and your creepy imagination. Go back to sleep. We've got that stupid quiz tomorrow."

Layla didn't reply. She lingered by the window, scanning the trees. The air felt heavier now, charged with something she couldn't name. She shook her head, trying to dismiss it, and climbed back into bed. But as she pulled the blanket up, the howl echoed in her mind—wild, haunting, and impossibly close.

Sleep didn't come easily after that. She tossed and turned, the textbook sliding to the floor with a dull thud. When she finally drifted off, she dreamed of a forest bathed in silver light, a shadow stalking her through the trees, and a voice whispering her name.

Morning arrived with a gray drizzle, the kind that clung to everything in Ravenwood. Layla dragged herself to the bathroom, splashing cold water on her face. Her reflection stared back—hazel eyes rimmed with faint circles, dark hair pulled into a messy bun. She looked tired, but something else flickered in her gaze, a restlessness she couldn't shake.

"You're a mess," Mira said, breezing past with her toothbrush. "That howl really got to you, huh?"

"It wasn't just a howl," Layla said, drying her face. "I saw something out there."

"Sure you did." Mira smirked. "Next you'll say it was Bigfoot."

Layla rolled her eyes but didn't argue. Mira wouldn't get it—she never did. They'd been friends since freshman year, bonded over late-night study sessions and a shared hatred of cafeteria food, but Mira was grounded, practical. She didn't believe in things that didn't fit neatly into her world.

The day crawled by. Classes blurred into a haze of lectures and half-hearted notes, the drizzle turning into a steady rain that drummed against the windows. By late afternoon, Layla was trudging across campus, her hoodie soaked, when she felt it—a prickle on the back of her neck, like someone was watching her.

She stopped, turning slowly. The quad was nearly empty, students hunched under umbrellas or hurrying to their dorms. Nothing unusual. But the feeling didn't fade. She tightened her grip on her backpack and kept walking, her boots splashing through puddles.

That's when she saw him.

He stood under a gnarled oak tree, rain dripping from the brim of his jacket's hood. Tall, broad-shouldered, with a presence that seemed to pull the air toward him. His face was half-hidden, but those eyes—gray as a winter storm—pierced through the gloom. The same eyes from last night.

Layla froze, her breath hitching. He didn't move, didn't blink, just watched her with an intensity that made her skin tingle. The rain plastered her hair to her face, but she couldn't look away. Who was he? And why did he feel... familiar?

"Hey, freak!" Mira's voice cut through the tension, her umbrella bobbing as she jogged over. "You're gonna catch pneumonia standing there like an idiot."

Layla blinked, glancing at Mira. When she looked back, the guy was gone. No trace of him under the tree, no footsteps in the wet grass. Just the rain and the faint rustle of leaves.

"You okay?" Mira asked, frowning. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

"I... I don't know," Layla said, her voice unsteady. She rubbed her arms, suddenly cold despite her hoodie. "Maybe I did."

Mira snorted. "Great. Now you're hallucinating. Come on, let's get coffee before you lose it completely."

Layla nodded, letting Mira drag her toward the campus café. But as they walked, she couldn't shake the image of those eyes—or the nagging certainty that whatever she'd seen last night wasn't done with her yet. Somewhere in the distance, beyond the rain and the hum of student chatter, she swore she heard it again: a low, rumbling howl, calling her name.