Chapter 5: First Sparks

Layla barely made it through the morning. The lack of sleep dragged at her limbs, her head pounding with a dull ache that matched the hum still simmering in her skull. She sat in her anthropology lecture, notebook open but blank, the professor's voice a distant drone about ancient burial rites. Her pencil tapped restlessly against the page, her eyes darting to the window where rain streaked the glass in relentless sheets. The pendant hung heavy under her hoodie, its warmth a constant reminder of the night before—Kael's warning, Julian's beckoning shadow, the glow she couldn't explain.

Mira nudged her elbow, sliding a crumpled note across the desk. You look like death. Coffee after? Layla managed a weak nod, scribbling back, Yeah. Need it. She didn't mention the real reason her hands wouldn't stop shaking or why she kept scanning the room, half-expecting Kael or Julian to materialize out of thin air.

Class ended in a blur, and she followed Mira to the campus café, the same one where Julian had unnerved her yesterday. The place was packed now, students huddled over laptops and mugs, the air thick with the smell of espresso and wet coats. Layla claimed their usual corner table while Mira joined the line, leaving her alone with her thoughts.

She pulled the pendant free, letting it dangle between her fingers. No glow now, just cold silver, but the memory of its light—of Julian watching her—sent a shiver down her spine. She tucked it back under her hoodie as Mira returned, balancing two steaming cups.

"Here," Mira said, sliding one over. "Extra shot, because you're a zombie today. What's up with you?"

Layla took a sip, the bitter heat grounding her a little. "Bad night. Couldn't sleep."

"Still obsessing over your imaginary wolf?" Mira teased, grinning over the rim of her cup.

"It wasn't imaginary," Layla said, sharper than she meant to. She softened her tone, glancing away. "I saw... something. Someone. I don't know."

Mira's grin faded, her brow furrowing. "You're serious, aren't you? Okay, spill. What's going on?"

Before Layla could answer, the café door swung open, and a ripple of silence spread through the room. She didn't need to look to know who it was—she felt it, that prickle on her neck, the hum flaring sharp and sudden. Julian Voss stepped inside, his leather jacket glistening with rain, his pale blue eyes sweeping the crowd until they landed on her.

He didn't hesitate this time. He crossed the room, ignoring the stares and whispers, and stopped at their table, his presence filling the space like a storm cloud. Up close, he was even more striking—his skin almost too perfect, his smile a razor's edge of charm and menace.

"Layla," he said, her name a soft caress in his low, accented voice. "Mind if I join you?"

Mira beat her to it. "Uh, yeah, we do. Who are you, anyway?"

"Julian," he said, his gaze never leaving Layla. He pulled out a chair and sat anyway, leaning back with an ease that bordered on arrogance. "And I'm someone who's been meaning to talk to you."

Layla's throat tightened, Kael's warning flashing through her mind—Stay away from him. But curiosity burned hotter than fear, and she met his eyes, holding his stare. "About what?"

He smiled, slow and deliberate, like he knew he'd hooked her. "You felt it last night, didn't you? That pull. It's not just in your head."

Her breath hitched. The hum—he knew about it? She gripped her mug tighter, the heat stinging her palms. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't you?" He leaned forward, his voice dropping to a murmur. "I saw it in your eyes at the window. You're not like them." He nodded toward Mira, who bristled but stayed silent, watching him like a hawk.

"Back off, creep," Mira snapped, slamming her cup down. "She's not interested in your weird pickup lines."

Julian chuckled, a sound that sent a shiver through Layla despite herself. "It's not a line. It's the truth. And she deserves to know it."

Layla's heart pounded, her mind racing. He was too close, too sure, and the hum was louder now, buzzing with an energy she couldn't ignore. She stood abruptly, her chair scraping against the floor. "I need air," she muttered, grabbing her bag. "Mira, I'll catch you later."

"Layla—" Mira started, but she was already moving, weaving through the crowded café toward the door. She didn't look back, but she felt Julian's eyes on her, a weight that followed her into the rain.

Outside, the cold hit her like a slap, the drizzle soaking her hoodie as she ducked under the awning of a nearby building. She pressed her back against the brick wall, sucking in deep breaths, trying to steady herself. What was he? How did he know about the hum, the pendant, the way her world had tilted off its axis?

Footsteps splashed through a puddle, and she tensed, expecting Julian. But it wasn't him. Kael emerged from the rain, his gray eyes stormy, his jaw set in a hard line. He stopped a few feet away, hands shoved in his pockets, water dripping from his dark hair.

"You didn't listen," he said, his voice rough with frustration. "I told you to stay away from him."

Layla straightened, anger flaring past her confusion. "And I told you I don't know you. Why should I listen to anything you say?"

"Because he's dangerous," Kael growled, stepping closer. "More than you can handle."

"And you're not?" she shot back, her voice rising. "You show up at my door, turn into a freaking wolf, and expect me to just nod and follow orders?"

He flinched, just barely, but she caught it. For a moment, he looked less like a predator and more like a guy caught off guard. "I'm not here to hurt you," he said, softer now. "I'm here to keep you safe."

"Safe from what?" she demanded, her hands balling into fists. The pendant warmed against her chest, and the hum spiked, sharp and dizzying.

Kael's gaze dropped to her neck, his eyes narrowing. "That," he said, nodding at the pendant. "It's waking up. And so are you."

Layla froze, her anger faltering. "What do you mean?"

He hesitated, then stepped even closer, his voice low and urgent. "You're not just some college kid, Layla. You've got something in you—something old, something they'll kill for. Julian's one of them. He'll use you if you let him."

Her mouth went dry, the words sinking in like stones. She wanted to laugh, to call him crazy, but the hum—the pendant's glow—made it impossible. "And what about you?" she whispered. "What do you want?"

His eyes softened, just for a second, and he looked almost human. "To protect you," he said. "Whether you like it or not."

Before she could respond, a sharp laugh cut through the rain—Julian, leaning against a lamppost a few yards away, his blue eyes glinting with amusement. "Touching speech, wolf," he called, his tone mocking. "But she's not yours to claim."

Kael snarled, his body tensing like a coiled spring, and Layla stepped back, her pulse racing. The air crackled between them, raw and electric, and she knew, right then, that whatever she'd stumbled into was bigger—and darker—than she'd ever imagined.