Chapter 2: The Black Wolf’s Shadow

Maybe, just maybe, she’d be there. Suddenly, he remembered the little chapel outside town that Lila often visited. He clung to that hope and set out.

He wiped his face on his sleeve, heart thumping as he clung to that one last thread. If she was anywhere, it’d be there—her safe place. The one spot in the world she trusted.

The path was overgrown, leaves crunching underfoot. He remembered how Lila would bring wildflowers to the altar.

He stumbled out of the trees and found the chapel waiting, doors shut tight.

He took a breath. No turning back now. He hesitated, heart hammering, then stepped up to the door.

He raised his hand to knock when...he heard the faint sound of someone crying inside.

Hope and dread twisted together in his gut. He reached for the handle, hands shaking.

His chest tightened. He pushed the door open and saw candlelight flickering in the chapel. Lila was curled up in a pew, her face streaked with tears. The relief was so fierce it nearly knocked him to his knees.

He rushed over and held her close. She trembled in his arms, and for a long moment, neither of them spoke.

“Lila, what happened? Who brought you here?” He tried to keep his voice steady, but it broke at the edges. He just held her, feeling her shake.

She broke down, clutching him tighter.

Her words came out in gasps. It was like his presence finally gave her permission to fall apart, and she did—sobbing into his shirt, hiccuping and shaking.

Between sobs, she said, “Hank, I… I was grabbed by a man in black. He… he tried to hurt me. Luckily, I got away when he wasn’t looking.”

Her hands shook, voice barely above a whisper. “He was waiting in the shadows, Hank. I thought I was done for, but he got distracted—I ran as fast as I could. I was so scared.”

Hank’s anger flared. He gritted his teeth. “That son of a gun—I’ll tear him apart.” He started for the door. “No one messes with my girl.”

He was already halfway to the door, fists clenched, face burning hot. All he could see was red—he wanted to break something, anything.

But Lila clung to his sleeve, voice breaking. “Hank, let it go. We can’t beat him. He’s not just strong—he’s got something unnatural about him. We’re no match for that.”

Her grip was tight, her voice shaky. She looked at him, eyes wide, and he could feel her desperation.

That stopped him cold. The way Lila spoke, the terror in her voice, made him question everything.

He looked at Lila—she looked terrified. No way she was making this up.

He squeezed her hand, searching her face. All he saw was fear—real, gut-deep fear. He felt the world tilt a little.

He heard footsteps—fast, heavy—outside the chapel. A tall man in a black coat and wide-brimmed hat strode in, his eyes sharp and cold, fixing on Hank as soon as he entered.

The door banged open, letting in a gust of icy wind. Boots echoed on the stone floor. The man’s stare was hard and cold, a warning Hank couldn’t miss.

Hank stepped in front of Lila. “You creep! How dare you lay hands on my girl? Tonight, it’s you or me!”

He squared up, jaw tight, standing between Lila and the stranger. He was ready to throw down, no matter how scared he was.

The man in black let out a chilling laugh. “You, a mere mortal, think you can take me on? Here’s the truth: I’m the black wolf, older than your grandfathers’ bones. I took your girl to feed and grow stronger.”

His laughter was low and cruel, echoing off the chapel walls. “You really have no idea what you’re up against, do you? I’ve seen centuries come and go, and I’m still hungry.” He leaned in, voice dropping. “Your little Lila was just the beginning.”

Hank’s knees buckled.

His bravado cracked. The world tilted—monsters weren’t supposed to be real, but here he was...staring one down. He barely kept his feet, holding on by sheer stubbornness.

He stared at the black-coated man, saw shadows writhing around him, and a sick, yellow gleam in his eyes. Hank’s stomach flipped. He felt trapped, like a rabbit in a snare.

But then, Lila stepped out from behind Hank. She looked at the man in black and said, “Black wolf, you won’t win. I may not be your equal, but you’ll have to go through me to get to Hank.”

She squared her shoulders, voice trembling but fierce. Her chin lifted. “I’m not afraid of you.”

His eyes narrowed, face twisting in anger.

He snarled, lips curling back to reveal teeth that looked just a little too sharp. The air was thick, almost humming with the promise of violence.

He sneered, “Foolish girl. If you won’t come willingly, you’ll feel the bite instead.” His voice dropped, menacing. “I swear I won’t stop until I’ve drained you dry!” He lunged at Lila, fast as a snake.

His movement was sudden, almost inhumanly fast—a blur of black coat and wild eyes. Hands reached for Lila. The world seemed to tilt.

Hank jumped in front of her, fists swinging, ready to fight. It was reckless, maybe stupid, but he couldn’t just stand by. He had to try.

But come on—how could he stand a chance against a monster like this?

The fight was over almost before it began. The black wolf knocked Hank aside with a single blow, sending him crashing into the pews. Pain exploded in his side. He gritted his teeth, refusing to give in.

Hank was battered—his face bruised, ribs aching, blood on his shirt. The wolf tossed him aside like a rag doll.

Blood trickled from his lip, his vision swimming. He tried to get up, but his limbs felt heavy, useless. He wanted to fight, but all he could do was reach for Lila, desperate not to let her go.

She screamed and ran to his side.

Her scream cut through the chapel, raw and desperate. She dropped to her knees, grabbing Hank’s hand, her fear for him burning hotter than her fear for herself.