The town was still asleep when Sera left her apartment the next morning. A cold mist blanketed the streets, turning Halewood into a ghost of itself. Her boots echoed softly on the pavement as she walked toward the clinic, hands shoved deep into her coat pockets. She'd barely slept. The dream—or vision—still clung to her skin like dew, refusing to be forgotten.
The woman in the mirror, the name Selene, the man with glowing gold eyes… None of it made sense.
And yet it felt real.
Too real.
She caught her reflection in the dark window of a bakery as she passed, half-expecting to see silver eyes staring back. But no. Just her again—gray eyes, pale skin, the same tired expression.
A normal girl.
Except she wasn't normal. She hadn't been for a long time.
Pushing open the clinic's front door, she was greeted by the scent of coffee and dog treats. Dr. Helena Foster was already inside, leaning over the reception desk with her usual cup in hand and a bite of muffin in the other.
"You're early," Helena noted, glancing up. "Couldn't sleep?"
Sera shook her head as she pulled off her coat and hung it by the door. "Bad dreams."
Helena hummed knowingly. "You've been having a lot of those lately."
Sera didn't respond. She walked into the back room and began preparing the day's supplies—fresh gauze, antiseptic, syringes. The motions grounded her, gave her something tangible to hold onto.
Helena followed her after a moment. "You know, if you ever want to talk to someone—"
"I don't," Sera said quickly, then softened. "But thank you."
Helena didn't push. She never did. It was one of the reasons Sera liked working with her.
"I'll take Duke's follow-up later this afternoon," Helena said, tapping her clipboard. "You've got a new intake this morning. Stray. Animal control brought it in overnight. Aggressive."
Sera looked up. "Aggressive how?"
"Snapping, growling. Tried to bite the handler. They sedated it to bring it in."
"What kind of animal?"
Helena hesitated. "They think it's a wolf."
Sera froze.
"A wolf?" she echoed.
"Or maybe a large husky. The lines get blurry sometimes. It's in the back, cage three."
Sera moved toward the kennels, pulse quickening. She didn't know why the word wolf struck her so hard—only that it did. Like it meant something.
Like it remembered something she didn't.
The animal was lying in the corner of the cage when she found it, still groggy from the sedative. Its coat was a mixture of dark gray and black, matted and streaked with dried mud. Its breathing was slow and even, but its ears twitched at her approach.
Sera crouched by the bars, watching it.
"You're not just a stray, are you?" she murmured.
The wolf's eyes opened.
And they were gold.
Just like the man in her dream.
Sera's breath hitched. She didn't move. Couldn't.
The wolf didn't growl. Didn't snap. It simply stared at her—as if it knew her. As if it had been waiting.
Slowly, Sera reached through the bars, her hand shaking slightly.
The wolf sniffed her fingers, then—shockingly—pressed its nose into her palm.
Electricity shot up her arm. Not pain. Something else. Recognition.
Connection.
She stumbled back, heart pounding.
"What the hell…" she whispered, clutching her hand.
The wolf laid its head back down, watching her with those strange, intelligent eyes.
Sera stood and backed away from the kennel, suddenly desperate for air.
—
She didn't tell Helena about the wolf's reaction. Instead, she busied herself with patients all morning—cleaning wounds, administering shots, refilling prescriptions. But no matter how hard she tried to focus, her thoughts kept drifting back to the cage in the back room. Back to him.
Because that's what it felt like.
Not an animal.
A he.
When her lunch break came around, she ducked outside with her journal and a cup of tea from the café down the street. The sun had finally broken through the mist, casting a pale light over the town square. Children laughed in the distance. A dog barked. Somewhere, a bell chimed the noon hour.
She flipped open the journal to a new page.
> March 11
The wolf had golden eyes. Like the man in my dream.
He didn't seem afraid of me. I wasn't afraid of him either.
He knew me. I'm sure of it.
I need to know why.
She stared at the words until the ink bled slightly from the pressure of her pen.
The wind picked up suddenly, rustling the pages.
And for just a second, she thought she heard her name on the breeze.
Not Sera.
Selene.
She slammed the journal shut.
—
That night, she returned to the clinic after hours.
It wasn't something she made a habit of—breaking rules—but she couldn't shake the pull she felt toward that wolf. Something about him felt urgent, fated.
She told herself she just needed to check his vitals. Maybe adjust his dosage. But deep down, she knew it was more than that.
The clinic was quiet, the fluorescent lights buzzing softly overhead. She unlocked the kennel room and stepped inside, her boots silent on the tile floor.
The wolf was awake.
And watching.
She crouched in front of the cage again, heart thudding.
"Who are you?" she whispered. "What do you want from me?"
The wolf stood slowly, his muscles rippling under his fur. He took a step forward, then another. No aggression. No fear.
She opened the cage door.
She didn't know why she did it. Her body moved before her mind could argue.
The wolf stepped out.
And brushed against her leg.
He didn't run. Didn't attack.
He sat at her feet and looked up at her as if waiting for something.
Sera dropped to her knees, reaching for him again. This time, when her hand touched his fur, a flood of images rushed into her mind—too fast to make sense of. Fire. Blood. Moonlight. A girl crying in a forest. A name shouted in battle.
Selene.
And a voice.
"You're not ready yet."
Sera gasped and fell backward, breaking the connection. The wolf stood over her, eyes blazing.
Then he
turned and walked back into the kennel on his own.
She shut the door behind him with shaking hands.
Whatever this was—it wasn't over.
It was only beginning.