Page 10 of Howling Holidays

"Thank you," I reply, following her to a section of the library dedicated to the town's history. As we walk, I can't help but notice the way she keeps glancing over her shoulder, as if she too feels the presence of unseen eyes.

"Here you are," the librarian says, pulling a thick, leather-bound book from the shelf. "This should give you a good overview of Everwood's past, including some of the legends you're curious about."

"Thank you so much for your help," I offer sincerely, taking the heavy tome in my hands and feeling a thrill of anticipation at what secrets it might reveal.

"You're welcome, dear," she replies with a gentle smile. "Just remember, sometimes the truth is stranger than fiction."

As I delve into the old books and documents, I find myself lost in a world of magic, curses, and supernatural beings. The stories are fascinating, though even in these texts, they’re still dismissed as simply being fairytales. But why do I feel such a strong pull toward them, a deep-rooted connection that seems to defy logic? My journalistic instincts have never steered me wrong before. Could there be more to these legends than mere folklore? And if so, what does it mean for me and my newfound connection to Logan and this mysterious town? I can tell he knows more than he lets on. I’m determined to find out what it is, no matter where the path leads or what dangers lurk in the shadows, watching my every move.

As I leave the library, cradling the leather-bound book to my chest like a precious treasure, I’m lost in thought about the skepticism that seems to radiate from the townspeople. It’s as if a veil of denial has been cast over Everwood, and no one dares to acknowledge the supernatural aura that permeates their home. I finally realize it’s dark out, and I’d ended up spending the entire day at the library. The dark winter’s chill and thought of being watched again sends a shiver down my spine.

Shit.I better get back to the inn quickly, I think to myself.

As I cross the now empty town square and through the meadow before the inn, I keep my eyes peeled for any sign of another human. Why does this town seem to fall eerily quiet after dark? Suddenly, I hear a raspy voice whisper in the wind.

"You tread dangerously, young woman. The shadows you stir do not take kindly to your meddling." A figure materializes ahead, features obscured by a hooded cloak that writhes like living smoke. Terror seeps into my bones, but I bravely stand my ground.

"I mean no harm. I only want to understand this town I’ve come to love." My breath emerges shakily, but I met where its gaze should be unflinching.

The apparition pauses as if confused by my unwillingness to back down. The voice that responds is softer now. "Love blinds you to the peril of your hopeless chase. Wolves howl to warn the rabbit away. Proceed, and you will not go unmarked." A final feral hiss lingers as the wispy figure dissolves.

I exhale a frantic breath that lingers as proof that what just happened wasn’t just my imagination. Every fiber of reason pleads with me to abandon this paranormal mystery and cling to normalcy again. But the solstice moon shines brightly overhead, reminding me that fate brought me here for a reason.

Some secrets are too potent to remain forgotten forever. I have a role to play in their unearthing, I can feel it deep in my soul. My encounter tonight only strengthens my determination to uncover this mystery. Though the dark forces that rule Everwood's history now have my scent, I will follow the trail relentlessly, wherever it leads. My path is chosen. All that remains is to keep following fate without hesitation. Clearly, I’m onto something here. Something thatsomeonedoesn’t want me to uncover.

I turn my back on the silent meadow and make my way slowly toward the inn. But my thoughts linger out there in the wilderness, imagining what that figure really is between those ancient pines in the moonlight. Those woods call to my soul like a half-remembered song. Maybe the wolves will lead me to salvation if I prove myself a friend to all beings that shelter beneath the sprawling branches. Where most people would feel fearful, my intuition senses wonder.

My dreams hold steadily more meaningful warnings. I see the giant silvery wolf watching over me again as I wander, lost in a snowy forest. Howls echoing hauntingly through the darkness. And Logan's hand anchoring me as we stumble together toward answers glowing just out of reach. I find my heart racing from these strange dreams each morning when I wake up.

The wisest thing to do would be packing my bags and returning to Boston, leaving these inexplicable longings and irrational urges behind. But when I imagine leaving Everwood without finding what fate led me here to uncover, I can feel my spirit rebelling. An essential truth awaits discovery. I only need to prove myself worthy of the revelation, though dark forces clearly don’t like my presence here. Though I sense danger, I cannot back down from uncovering the truth here.

Chapter seven

Logan

Ipacearoundmycabin as I wait for evening to fall, feeling like a caged wolf. Usually, I find peace within these solid log walls that have sheltered my family for generations. But since Emily arrived, restless energy hums through my veins constantly. Our daily breakfasts only stoke the fire higher, until staying away grows unbearable. I know I shouldn’t get too close to her, but somehow, I can’t seem to stay away.

It feels like we’re literally being drawn together. The only time I’ve heard of that kind of bond happening is with fated mates. I doubt fate has a mate picked for me, let alone a human mate. What would that be like for my pack, an alpha with a human mate? I’d never put much thought into it, but it couldn’t be too different I suppose. Although with the curse, that would definitely be a problem. These curious thoughts keep me distracted until it’s finally time for the funeral. I shake them out of my mind and ready myself for the solemn occasion.

Tonight, Emily needs me, and the distance between us finally cracks. Accompanying her to Amelia's funeral will mean more stolen moments in her magnetic presence. I desperately crave her, even as caution tempers my longing. Being near her is dangerous, in more ways than one, and yet I can’t resist our undeniable bond anymore. My heart twists with the weight of the secrets I carry as I make my way to the chapel. I want nothing more than to tell Emily the truth about Everwood and its inhabitants, but I fear for her safety. The thought of putting her in harm's way is unbearable, but Emily is unraveling this town's secrets too quickly. What if she uncovers the truth? I feel torn between my duty as alpha and the best way to protect Emily. I can no longer deny the growing connection between us.

The melancholy strains of a lone violin float on the night air as I approach the little stone church on the outskirts of town. Emily stands in the doorway, and she’s beautiful in her simple black dress.

"Logan." Emily's voice breaks through my thoughts, her eyes rimmed red from crying.

"Hey," I offer softly, reaching out to brush a stray curl away from her face. "How are you holding up?"

"Better now that you're here," she replies, her voice cracking. "Thank you for being here with me."

"Of course," I assure her, my protective instincts flaring. I feel a sudden urge to wrap her into my arms, something I’ve never really felt before. But will that be enough to shield her from the dangers lurking in the shadows?

As we stand together, side by side, watching the mourners file into the church, I feel the burden of these secrets growing heavier. I want to share my world with Emily, to let her into the hidden corners of my heart, but the truth remains locked behind a door I’m not sure I can open. And so, I stay close to her, hoping that my presence will offer some small measure of comfort, even as the storm of uncertainty rages inside.

She takes my arm without a word, grief and gratitude shining in her eyes. Tonight, we are simply two souls bound by loss, seeking each other’s comfort. We take our seats in the pews filled by generations of Everwood residents. She gives me a slight smile, despite the sorrow that paints her face.

The somber atmosphere of the church presses down on me, heavy and suffocating. Mourners gathered, dressed in black, their whispers hushed and respectful. A soft organ melody fills the air, its melancholic notes echoing through the high-ceilinged chamber. Candles flicker, casting shadows on the stained-glass windows that depict scenes of angels and saints. This feels all too familiar for me, sadly, but tonight I want nothing more than to be here for Emily.

Reverend White welcomes everyone warmly despite the solemn occasion, his voice resonating with compassion. I relax into the familiar cadences of the service, letting the poetry of the passages provide calm. Emily's shoulders gradually lose their tension as well, comforted by the community's support. Her hand seeks mine at some point and I lace our fingers, anchoring her. Though we’ve only known each other for a short time, I deeply long to be a source of comfort for her.

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