Eleanor P.O.V
(25-year-old Eleanor)
A cool breeze swept over the open field, rustling the tall grass and carrying the soft fragrance of roses through the air. The castle loomed behind me, its towering stone walls standing as a silent guardian over the landscape. An array of roses stretched across the land, vibrant reds, pinks, and whites blending together in a sea of color. A few meters away, a marble fountain stood in quiet elegance, water cascading gently down its tiers, the soft splashes blending with the whispers of the wind. Beyond the fountain, the land sloped towards the edge of a dense forest, the towering trees swaying slightly, their branches casting long shadows under the pale moonlight.
I took a hesitant step toward the forest, my curiosity pulling me forward. The moment my fingertips brushed against the rough bark of a tree, a cold shiver ran down my spine. My breath hitched as my hand passed straight through the solid trunk. I yanked my arm back, stumbling away as my mind raced to process what had just happened. The eerie sensation lingered on my skin, a reminder that whatever this was ,this dream, this vision, it was far from ordinary.
Out of the corner of my eye, movement caught my attention. My gaze snapped toward the castle's back entrance just in time to see a shadowy figure slipping out of the door. My heart pounded in anticipation as I turned fully toward the figure. A girl moved stealthily across the castle grounds, a dagger secured at her waist, a bow and a quiver of arrows slung across her back. She moved with the grace of someone accustomed to secrecy, each step carefully measured as she made her way toward the horse stables.
I squinted, trying to make out her features, but her face remained infuriatingly blurry, as it always did. For the past twenty years, I had seen this girl in countless dreams, always in different scenarios, yet never once had I been able to see her face clearly. And she was never alone. There was always a man,a companion, a lover dressed in attire reminiscent of the Victorian era. The dreams were shrouded in mystery, filled with longing glances, whispered words, and an undeniable connection between the two. They loved each other deeply; that much I knew.
But then there was the other dream ,the one that still made my skin crawl. The one that left me gasping for air, my heart hammering in terror. The dream where their love was shattered in the most brutal way imaginable. A cloaked figure. A merciless slaughter. The girl and the man, their lives stolen in the dead of night, their bodies left to the mercy of wild wolves. The dream never revealed the identity of their murderer, only the overwhelming horror of their demise. I always woke up screaming, drenched in sweat, my chest aching with a sorrow I couldn't explain. Sometimes the mere memory of it was enough to trigger a panic attack.
Shaking off the lingering unease, I refocused on the girl. She had reached a brown horse with a sleek, black mane. Her movements were quick and efficient as she adjusted the saddle, whispering something to the horse before pulling herself onto its back. The horse reared slightly, letting out a sharp neigh before charging forward, coming straight toward me.
My instincts screamed at me to move, but before I could react, they passed right through me. A chill coursed through my body, leaving behind an unsettling emptiness. I stood frozen for a moment, staring after them in shock before forcing myself to move.
I took off running, my feet pounding against the soft earth as I followed the girl into the forest. The deeper she rode, the denser the trees became, their intertwining branches forming a natural barrier against the moonlight. Shadows stretched across the path, shifting with the movement of the wind.
Without warning, the girl yanked the reins, bringing her horse to an abrupt halt. Her posture straightened as she scanned her surroundings. A faint rustling sound came from behind one of the trees, breaking the eerie silence.
She wasted no time. With practiced ease, she reached for her bow, her fingers knocking an arrow as she dismounted. Her movements were nearly silent, but not silent enough. A deer suddenly bolted from behind the tree, startled by her presence. The girl reacted instantly, sprinting after it, her feet barely making a sound as she moved.
I followed, my breath coming in ragged gasps as I tried to keep up. She was fast, too fast. No matter how hard I pushed myself, the distance between us remained the same.
After several minutes of pursuit, she came to a sudden stop, her shoulders rising and falling as she caught her breath. Slowly, she straightened, closing her eyes as if listening. The forest was alive with sounds , the rustling of leaves, the distant hoot of an owl, the soft murmur of water nearby.
Then, without warning, she took off again. This time, she moved with certainty, as if she knew exactly where to go.
She reached the edge of a clearing and crouched low in the underbrush, her bow at the ready. I followed her gaze and turned my head in the same direction.
A lake stretched out before us, its glassy surface reflecting the moon above. At the water's edge, the same deer stood, lowering its head to drink.
The girl exhaled slowly, drawing back the bowstring, preparing to strike.
But before she could release the arrow, a shadow lunged from the trees.
My breath caught as I realized what it was.
A massive wolf.
The beast moved with terrifying speed, leaping onto the deer's back, its powerful jaws locking around the animal's throat. The deer let out a strangled cry, its body writhing in agony. The wolf tightened its grip, and within seconds, the struggle was over. The forest fell into a deafening silence.
The girl lowered her bow, disappointment flickering across her blurred face.
Then, as if sensing her presence, the wolf turned.
The world around me began to blur, the edges of the scene dissolving into darkness.
And then—
BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.
A loud, jarring noise shattered the dream, yanking me back into reality.
I jolted awake with a sharp gasp, my body jerking so violently that I tumbled off my bed and landed on the floor with a loud thud. Groaning, I lay there for a moment, my heart still racing from the unfinished dream.
Every single time. Just when I was about to see what that werewolf looked like in human form, something always interrupted me.
I reached out blindly, fumbling for my alarm clock before slamming my hand down on it to silence the noise.
"Alexa, turn on the lights."
Instantly, the room was flooded with an almost blinding brightness. I winced, squeezing my eyes shut.
"Alexa, dim the lights."
The brightness softened, allowing me to finally open my eyes. With a groggy sigh, I pushed myself off the floor and sat on the edge of my bed, rubbing my temples.
I needed coffee.
Dragging myself to the bathroom, I went through my morning routine—showering, brushing my teeth, tying my long, unruly hair into a loose bun. Once I was done, I headed to the kitchen, my stomach growling in protest.
"Alexa, play Willow by Taylor Swift."
Soft music filled the air as I swayed absentmindedly while making my breakfast. Toast, eggs, and coffee. Simple, quick, and effective.
As I sat at the counter, eating, I let my thoughts drift.
My name is Eleanor Stones. I am a 25-year-old veterinarian, one of the well-known vets in New York City. I graduated from Cornell University's College of Veterinary Medicine three years ago. The pay is not great, but I love my job. Animals are easier to deal with than people, at least most of the time.
I live with my cat, Ruby, a spoiled Persian with a personality bigger than my apartment. Speaking of my apartment, my two-bedroom space is just enough for the two of us. The only downside? NYC traffic. It's a nightmare.
I don't have a family. The closest thing I have to one is Anna Mary and her family. They took me in when my father abandoned me.
It has been nine years since I last saw my father, and I know deep in my heart that I will never be able to forgive him. The wounds he left behind aren't just scars on my past, they are carved into my very soul. He didn't just abandon me; he betrayed me in the cruelest way imaginable.
He stood by the people who murdered my mother, the very people responsible for tearing my world apart. Worse still, he helped them kill my wolf ,the last living connection I had to her. With that final act, he severed the last thread tying me to the only family I had left, leaving me adrift in a world that suddenly felt colder and more merciless than ever.
And when there was nothing left for him to destroy, he discarded me as if I were nothing more than an inconvenience, something broken and unwanted. But the pain of his abandonment is nothing compared to the weight of his betrayal. That is what truly lingers, festering beneath my skin, a wound that time has never managed to heal.
A beep broke through my thoughts.
I grabbed my phone from the counter.
Devil's Bitch: Bitch, remember you have to meet me at 9 a.m.
Me: Of course. How could I forget? I'll be there in ten minutes.
Swallowing the last bite of toast, I grabbed my bag, keys, and phone, then dashed out the door.
Another day, another chaotic morning.