Page 6 of Howling Holidays

We don't speak much during the short drive to his cabin, both lost in our own thoughts. I take the opportunity to discreetly observe my rescuer. The way he capably handles the large truck over the snowy terrain hints at a strength and grace just below the surface. He seems so at home here, so connected to this place. And now I'll get a glimpse into his world. Nervous excitement flutters in my chest at the thought. What will I discover at Logan's cabin tonight? A quiet confidence radiates off him, which puts me further at ease. He’s also handsome as hell, which helps his case. I can’t help but feel drawn to him, as if fate brought him to rescue me.

I thank him again as we pull up the winding drive to a log cabin set back in a clearing. Smoke puffs cheerfully from the chimney, bright windows promising warmth and safety inside. It looks like a scene from a lovely Christmas card. The coziness lifts my spirits after the long, taxing journey. Maybe this blizzard detour is a blessing in disguise.

Logan insists on carrying my small suitcase inside where I’m greeted by an elegant elderly woman bustling out of the kitchen.

"Logan, you didn't tell me you were bringing back a guest!" She fixes me with a look both shrewd and kindly. "I'm Iris, this one's grandmother. Now come get warm by the stove while I fetch some tea."

True to her word, Iris reappears promptly with steaming mugs for Logan and me. I cradle mine gratefully, letting the heat seep through my chilled fingers. We sit chatting amiably about my journey and the expected duration of the storm. I share about my grandmother’s upcoming funeral and am surprised to find that Iris knew her.

“Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that dear. I did know of Amelia, not closely, but I know she was a wonderful woman who was well loved by the town. I’m sorry to hear of her passing,” Iris offers, which I find comforting. It’s nice to know that my grandmother will be missed by her beloved fellow residents.

Despite having just met, time passes easily in their company. Iris reminds me so much of my own grandmother - quick to laugh, slow to judge. I find myself sharing childhood memories I hadn’t spoken of in years. Logan remains mostly silent, but his presence seems to fill the cozy space. I feel his thoughtful gaze return to me time and again like a soothing touch.

Our connection feels...familiar somehow. Ridiculous, of course, given we've just met. Yet an undeniable thread pulls taut between us. Surely, he must sense it too.

Eventually Iris bid us goodnight after preparing the guest room for me. I fall asleep almost instantly after burrowing under the thick quilts, soothed by the wind howling distantly outside. My last idle thought wonders if Logan's room is nearby...then darkness closes in.

I awake suddenly in the deep chill hours before dawn, jarred from sleep by a dream that makes no sense. In the dream I saw two large wolves snarling and fighting, one silver-colored and the other as black as coal. Just as a familiar voice cried out my name, my eyelids shot open. The dream leaves me feeling confused and uneasy. The ancient floorboards creak and groan as the cabin moves around me. I should be frightened waking in a strange place, but instead I feel comforted, protected. Safe.

My room is frigid despite the crackling fire Iris had set, so I wrap myself in the quilt and creep toward the hallway window overlooking the back fields. Snow falls lazily now; the true blizzard having exhausted itself overnight. All seems tranquil.

Yet sleep still fails to find me. I stand gazing out into the silent woods beyond the yard, wondering what mysteries they hold. Would wild creatures awake and begin roaming under the cold moon? Does magic yet linger in lands this ancient, ruggedly beautiful?

Something inexplicable calls to me from out there in the darkness. A sense of possibilities both wondrous and treacherous. A feeling that answers await if I prove brave enough to seek them.

Ridiculous, of course. I’m clearly indulging flights of fancy, as I'd often done as a fanciful child. The New England winter night holds nothing more than old trees, slumbering animals, and snow.

So why did it feel like I was being watched?

I spin from the window, suddenly eager for the warmth of my bed. But as I turn down the hall, movement outside Logan's doorway brings me up short. Had he sensed the unseen eyes upon us too? The notion should have frightened me further, but I feel no fear in his presence. Only anticipation of...something. A change, perhaps.

I meet his eyes in the shadows. Neither of us speak a word. The moment feels heavy, suspended between breaths. Then his gaze slides to the window at my back, expression clouding as if he confirms some elusive suspicion.

"The wind is picking up again," he remarks casually, though we both know that was not why I'd crept down this hallway. "Best to rest while we can. Town will be digging out come morning."

I murmur in assent, suddenly feeling self-conscious standing there in my oversized sleep clothes. We exchange whispered goodnights, and I peek back once I enter the sanctuary of my room. Logan remains standing in his doorway, staring intently out into the gloom beyond the glass. Keeping watch over what, I could not guess.

Slumber remains evasive as I lay listening to the wind howl outside these sturdy cabin walls. I replay each odd occurrence since crossing Everwood's thresholds earlier that evening. Silly to read omens in such ordinary happenstance...and yet, my grandmother told me of the mysteries in this town...

Falling snow and creaking floorboards eventually lull me back to sleep. As consciousness slips away, a single thought needles forward from my waking mind:

The waiting darkness conceals secrets. But come morning light, I will discover the truth hidden in this place. An unseen cord now tethers me here as destiny awaits. I only need to embrace it when dawn breaks over Everwood.

Chapter five

Logan

Iwakebeforedawn,the wolf already stirring restlessly beneath my skin. He dislikes being confined indoors, cut off from the scent-rich wilderness that is our domain. I sooth him with thoughts of the open forest waiting beyond the town. Tonight, we will run free again under the moon's cold light.

But first, I need to get Emily safely to town before the next storm front closes in. I put the pot on for coffee, knowing my grandmother would be up soon. My thoughts drift to Emily sleeping peacefully in the next room, her honey-gold hair splayed across the pillow, lips curved in some dream's secret. Even in slumber, her vivacious spirit shines through. She’s beautiful and my wolf bristles inside thinking about her, but she’s a complication I don’t need.

I hastily redirect my musings as Iris shuffles into the kitchen. Though she makes no comment, the knowing look she throws my way brings heat to my cheeks. Iris misses little that occurs under her roof.

Soon I’m bundling into the truck while Emily says her goodbyes. I still can’t pinpoint why this newcomer's fate feels predestined to alter mine. Our paths crossed at random, and yet...from the moment our eyes first met, certainty gripped my heart. Emily has a role to play here, it seems.

The wariness in the eyes of Everwood's residents as we drive through town bother me more than expected. I know their misgivings toward my kind linger generations later, even though they’re unaware of the forced truce formed between shifters and humans by the curse. But having Emily witness their unveiled mistrust forces me to see my isolation with new clarity. They tolerate my presence. Yet I will never truly be one of them.

I brush off Emily's gentle inquiry about the tension she observes. How can I explain dynamics she knows nothing about? That sleeping beasts she believes to be mythical still walk these lands? Some secrets are mine alone to keep, no matter how perceptive Emily's gaze is.

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