The Shadow

The peace lasted for six hours.

It was dusk when the temperature in the house plummeted.

Elara was in the kitchen making tea while Gabriel secured the windows for the night. Suddenly, she could see her breath. The warm, cozy atmosphere Gabriel had cultivated vanished, replaced by a biting, necrotic chill that smelled of stagnant water and rot.

"Gabriel?" Elara called out, dropping the mug. It shattered.

Gabriel burst into the kitchen. He wasn't human anymore—not entirely. His eyes were glowing bright gold. His canines were extended. His fingernails had lengthened into black claws.

"It found us," he snarled. He looked toward the front door, his hackles rising. "The Shadow. It’s here. It’s early. It usually waits years."

He grabbed Elara’s arm. "We have to go. Now."

He dragged her to the front door, grabbing her coat and his keys.

"Where are we going?" Elara asked, struggling to keep up with his long strides.

"Not *we*," Gabriel said, stopping at her car. He opened the door and practically threw her inside. "You."

He leaned in, buckling her seatbelt with trembling hands.

"Drive south," he commanded. "Don't stop until you hit the coast. The salt air confuses it. I'll stay here. I'll draw it away."

"No!" Elara grabbed his wrist. "You said we're mates! I'm not leaving you!"

"If you stay, you die!" Gabriel roared. It was the Soldier speaking now—the commander who made hard choices. "It wants *us* together. If we separate, its power weakens. I can fight it if I'm not worried about shielding you."

He cupped her face, his thumbs wiping away her tears.

"I can't bury you again, Elara," he whispered, his voice broken. "Please. Go. Live a life. Even if it’s without me. Just live."

He slammed the car door. He slapped the hood. "Go!"

Elara started the engine, sobbing. She backed out of the driveway. She saw Gabriel turn toward the woods, shifting as he ran—bones cracking, clothes tearing, until a massive, midnight-black wolf stood in the snow, snarling at the encroaching darkness.

She drove.

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