𝖆𝖓𝖎𝖒𝖆 𝖎𝖒𝖒𝖔𝖗𝖙𝖆𝖑𝖊 ━ 𝖑𝖔𝖌𝖆𝖓 𝖍𝖔𝖜𝖑𝖊𝖙𝖙

𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔯 3

Canadian Rockies, 6 years later

The sunlight streamed through the thin curtains, casting a warm glow across the room. Verena shifted under the sheets, her body relaxed and nestled into the familiar warmth beside her. Logan was lying next to her, one arm draped lazily over her waist as if they had always woken up this way. His chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm, the peacefulness of the moment wrapping around them like a cocoon. She could hear the gentle rustling of leaves outside the window and the distant chirping of birds.

Verena let out a soft sigh, turning her head to look at him. There was a quiet smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, his hair tousled in that rugged, familiar way. She traced her fingers along the line of his jaw, feeling the coarse stubble beneath her touch. He stirred slightly, his hand tightening its grip on her waist as if pulling her closer, keeping her safe.

She felt a deep sense of calm wash over her, the kind she rarely allowed herself to feel—like nothing else mattered but this moment.

"Morning," Logan's voice was rough with sleep, and he opened one eye, giving her a lazy half-smile.

"Morning, Baby," Verena returned the smile, a softness in her expression that she didn't often show. It felt easy here, like this was where they belonged—lying side by side, the rest of the world forgotten for now.

But something shifted.

The sunlight that once filled the room dimmed, growing colder. Logan's warmth faded, and Verena blinked, her surroundings turning hazy, as though a shadow was creeping in from the edges of her vision. When she turned back to Logan, his face was no longer peaceful. His skin had grown pale, almost sickly, and his breaths were shallow, uneven.

"Logan?" she whispered, her voice tight with concern.

But he didn't respond. His eyes were open now, staring blankly past her, unseeing.

Panic surged through her as she reached out to shake him, but her hands came away bloody. She looked down, and crimson coated her fingers, staining the sheets. Her heart raced, dread tightening in her chest as she tried to call out his name again, but her voice was swallowed by the growing darkness.

The bed beneath her felt like it was dissolving, slipping away, as if the ground was giving out from beneath her. She clawed at the air, trying to grasp something solid, but there was nothing to hold on to. She was falling, deeper and deeper into a cold void.

And then—

Verena jolted awake, gasping for air. Her heart pounded in her chest, and her claws had instinctively extended, tearing through the sheets. She sat up, drenched in sweat, struggling to shake off the lingering terror.

The room was still and dark, save for the faint glow of moonlight seeping in through the window. She was alone. Her claws slowly retracted, and Verena dragged a trembling hand through her hair, trying to steady her breath.

A soft knock at the door made her freeze.

"Verena?"

Kayla's voice was soft, hesitant. When the door creaked open, Kayla stepped inside, the hallway light behind her casting a gentle halo around her silhouette. She took a cautious step forward, her eyes scanning Verena's face with concern.

"Hey... I heard some yelling. Are you okay?"

Verena swallowed hard, forcing down the residual fear still pulsing in her veins. She wiped at her brow and nodded, though her voice shook when she answered.

"Yeah... just a nightmare."

Kayla's gaze flickered to the shredded sheets, then back to Verena. She walked closer, her steps slow and deliberate.