Chapter 2 Chapitre 2

She had arrived late in the afternoon, her back burning after hours on the bus, hours of staring at the mountains in the distance. Spain. It was just a word, a random place on a map, chosen to be far away. Far from everything. But now that she was here, sitting on the edge of a bed with questionable bedding in a small guesthouse, she wondered if it was enough. The peeling walls, the smell of damp, the sound of poorly oiled hinges as she passed through the hallway-all reminded her that she had no idea what she was doing.

Her bag, sitting in a corner, contained everything she owned. A few clothes, enough to survive. But no anchor, nothing to tie her to anything. She had thought that distance would be enough. That leaving was the solution. Yet, as she ran a hand through her hair to dislodge the accumulated dust, the images came back. Always the same. The scream. The blood. The look of an Alpha who had taken everything. She shook her head. Not here. Not now.

She stepped out into the street. There was something strange about this small town, a quiet that was unnatural. The cobblestones echoed beneath her feet, as if she were walking to a hollow drum. The windows were open, but no one seemed to be watching. Yet she felt. That familiar sensation, that instinct she had never quite learned to control. They were there. Not humans. She could have sworn it.

She stopped in front of a small grocery store. An older woman glanced sideways at her as she put away apples. Lyra avoided making eye contact and just wandered between the shelves. She didn't need much, just an excuse to kill time and prove to herself that she could act normally, like anyone else.

When she came out, the paper bag clutched to her, the sun was fading. A cool breeze lifted her hair, and with it a smell. Not human. Her breath caught, her fingers clenching on the bag. She turned her head instinctively, searching for the source. Nothing. Only the empty streets, the shutters flapping softly in the wind. But she knew she was not mistaken.

It was later, as she was walking aimlessly through the streets, that she came across them. Three figures at the entrance to an alley. They were leaning against a wall, their bodies relaxed but their gazes fixed on her. Lyra kept walking, trying not to pay attention to them, but they didn't move. Not a word. Not a gesture. Yet she felt them. Their presence was heavy, palpable.

When she reached them, one of them spoke.

- You're new here.

It wasn't a question. She stopped in spite of herself, their gazes fixed on her like spotlights.

- So what? she replied curtly, immediately regretting her tone.

They exchanged a look. A smile passed furtively on the lips of the one who had spoken.

- We were just wondering what you're doing here. Not many people come through here.

She shrugged, trying to free herself from their invisible grip.

- I'm just passing through. Nothing more.

The tallest of the three, a guy with black hair and a scarred face, stepped forward slightly. He had that look that Lyra knew well, the one of those who knew. Who saw beyond appearances.

- This is not a town for people passing through, he said calmly.

Lyra didn't answer. She hugged the bag to her and walked away, feeling their eyes follow her long after she turned the corner.

That night she had trouble falling asleep. She felt watched, even in the relative safety of her small room. Every creak, every breath of wind seemed to hide something. When she finally did fall asleep, it was not into a peaceful sleep.

She dreamed. Not the kind of fuzzy, elusive dreams she had, but the kind that came with unsettling clarity. He was there, in the darkness. A towering figure, a presence that filled the space like a silent storm. She couldn't see his face, only his eyes. Eyes that seemed to glow with their own light, burning and cold at once.

- Lyra, he whispered.

His voice was a rumble, an echo in her mind. She felt a strange warmth invade her, a sensation that was not entirely unpleasant but deeply unsettling. She wanted to answer, but no words passed her lips.

- Come.

She woke with a start, her heart pounding. The room was dark, but she could have sworn she wasn't alone. She strained her ears, but there was only silence. Yet that voice still echoed in her head, clear as if it had just been spoken.

She stood up, unable to stay still. Her legs carried her to the window, where she looked out at the street below. Empty. But that feeling persisted, that certainty that she was not alone.

She went back to bed, but sleep would not come. All night long, she saw those eyes, that voice. She did not know who he was, but one thing was certain: this was not an ordinary dream.