THE FEVER DREAM
Skylar didn't sleep. Again.
When she did finally doze off around 4:30 a.m., her body twisted under the sheets. The hum in her chest returned, but louder this time angrier.
She was running again.
Barefoot, through thick woods that weren't familiar but felt like home. The moon above her was low and reddish. Her limbs were faster than they should've been. Every step pulsed with weight and power. She wasn't human in the dream at least not fully. Something else lived under her skin.
There were voices. Dozens. Whispering her name. Pulling her forward. Then
She saw Avery.
Kneeling beside a river made of black water, her back turned. Long dreads fell loose from her usual bun. Her neck was exposed. Vulnerable.
Skylar moved toward her, slow. Animal. Careful. She reached out
Avery turned just as Skylar touched her shoulder.
Her eyes glowed gold.
Skylar woke up screaming.
TOUCHES THAT STAY TOO LONG
Later that morning, they bumped into each other by accident. Or maybe it wasn't an accident.
Skylar had finally gone to class. Her hoodie hung off her frame like armor. She hadn't said much to anyone all morning. But something about the cold air outside the Student Union made her tense up again.
That's when Avery stepped out of the door, nearly colliding into her.
Skylar caught her arm instinctively. Their skin touched bare.
And it burned.
Skylar flinched. Not from pain. From the recognition.
Avery stared at her like she felt it too.
For a second, it was just them. Her hand on Avery's wrist. Avery's breath catching like she was holding it for both of them.
They both stepped back at the same time.
"Sorry," Skylar muttered.
Avery didn't answer. Her eyes stayed locked on Skylar's fingers, like something had been passed between them.
And it had.
Even if neither knew how to name it yet.
OTHERS ARE WATCHING
Skylar started noticing them around Thursday.
People she didn't recognize. Not students. Not faculty.
One man stood by the fountain too long, pretending to check a map on his phone, though he never scrolled. Another woman leaned on a bike rack, watching her walk into Carmine's, then vanished by the time she got off her shift.
She brushed it off the first few times.
But the next night?
One of them followed her.
Skylar had taken the long way home, through the edge of the neighborhood behind the south lot. She'd heard the footsteps at first too steady to be random.
She stopped.
So did the footsteps.
When she turned around, no one was there. But the air felt different. Charged.
She got home and locked the door behind her, chest tight, every sense on edge. She looked in the mirror and didn't recognize her own eyes. They looked brighter. Sharper.
Like something else was staring back.
THE PENDANT REACTS
Avery hadn't taken the pendant off in days now.
It didn't burn anymore. Not unless Skylar was near.
Then it would grow warm almost soft. Like it was humming. Not painful, just… present.
She wore it under her shirt, on a longer chain now. Every time she passed by Skylar even in the hallways, even through a crowd she felt it pulse.
Her friends noticed her drifting.
"You've been mad distant lately," Janelle said that afternoon. "Is this about grades or is this about that Skylar girl?"
Avery gave her a look. "It's not about anybody."
"Uh-huh. Right. Then why you always look like your brain buffering every time she walks in a room?"
Avery laughed lightly but said nothing.
Because what could she say?
She's not my type.
But my dreams are full of her.
And something ancient is waking when she's close.
OLD HISTORY, STRANGE TRUTH
Avery went back to her grandmother's box.
It had been tucked in the top shelf of her closet for years old photos, letters, yellowing papers in script she couldn't quite decipher.
She found a folded slip of cloth. Inside it, a drawing. Charcoal on faded parchment. A symbol that looked exactly like the mark Skylar had mentioned.
A half-moon cut through by a jagged line. It looked old. Ritualistic. Purposeful.
On the back was a name.
Skylae.
She blinked.
Not Skylar. But… close.
She read it again. Below it, in the same hand:
"One of the last. Bloodlines buried. Power dormant until called by their twin flame. When the mirror is found, the bond begins again."
Avery's mouth went dry.
She looked at the pendant again.
It wasn't just family jewelry.
It was a key.
SHOW ME
The next night, Avery texted her.
AVERY: You free?
AVERY: I think we need to talk.
AVERY: Please.
Skylar stared at the screen. Her hand was already halfway to hitting ignore but she didn't.
She walked across campus in a hoodie and sweats. No headphones. No distractions.
Avery was waiting outside the library, beneath one of the old maple trees that always looked like they held secrets.
Skylar slowed as she approached.
Avery turned, silent, her eyes sharp but not angry. Just full of too much unspoken weight.
Without a word, she reached into her shirt and pulled out the pendant.
Skylar froze.
Her chest buzzed.
The pendant glowed.
Soft. Faint.
But undeniably lit.
Skylar took a step back. "What the hell?"
"It started glowing when I dreamt of you," Avery said quietly. "When you were a wolf. Or something like one."
Skylar's face paled.
"Show me your mark," Avery said.
Skylar shook her head.
"Please."
Skylar pulled up her hoodie, just enough to expose the curve of her ribs. There it was. Darker now. A half-moon split down the middle by a jagged line.
Just like the drawing.
The same mark. The same symbol.
Avery reached out, slow.
When her fingers grazed the mark—
Skylar flinched.
And her eyes just for a second flashed gold.
Skylar stumbled backward, her hand covering the mark like Avery had burned her.
"You saw that, right?" she whispered, breath sharp. "Tell me you saw that."
Avery nodded, her own fingers still hovering mid-air, trembling. "Your eyes… they changed."
Skylar wiped a hand across her face like she could wipe the feeling away too.
"This isn't normal," she said, pacing two steps. "People don't… light up when touched. I'm not a damn Disney character."
Avery's voice was low, but steady. "You are to me."
Skylar stopped.
"What?"
"I don't mean like that," Avery said quickly. "I mean… you're the only thing that makes sense right now. That mark, my pendant, the dreams—I've never believed in anything spiritual. Not really. But this…"
Skylar's expression changed. Conflicted. Torn between laughing and screaming.
"…This scares me," Avery finished.
That part Skylar understood.
"Same."
THAT NIGHT
Back in her room, Skylar stood shirtless in front of the mirror.
The mark on her ribs hadn't just darkened. It was spreading.
Tiny faint lines branched outward from the symbol now, like roots or veins, climbing slowly across her side. Not red. Not like blood.
More like… glowing ink beneath skin.
The lines were delicate. Barely visible unless you were looking for them. But they weren't there a week ago. She was sure of it.
She pressed her palm to the mark.
This time, her fingers tingled.
Heat spread up her arm.
And something like a voice—not words, but a presence—pressed faintly at the edge of her consciousness.
She whispered, "What are you?"
No answer.
Just a flicker of golden light under her skin.
FAMILY SECRETS
Avery called her mom that same night.
She didn't usually. Her mother was distant. Focused. High-powered. Always "too busy." But right now, Avery needed a thread to the past.
"Hey, Mom. Quick question. Did Grandma ever talk about… dreams?"
Her mom sighed. "Jesus, not this again."
Avery blinked. "Wait—what do you mean 'again'?"
Her mom was quiet for a second. Then: "Grandma used to have visions. Nightmares, really. She'd talk about spirits, twin flames, old souls. I always thought it was just her grief."
"Grief from what?"
Her mom hesitated. "Your great-grandmother died in a fire. Back in Georgia. People in the family said it wasn't an accident. They whispered about wolves. About curses."
Avery's stomach dropped. "Wolves?"
"Ignore it," her mom snapped, voice suddenly tight. "It's nonsense. Superstition. Your grandma went senile before the end."
Avery swallowed. "What if it wasn't nonsense?"
"You're not her," her mom said flatly. "Don't go digging. You don't want what she saw."
Click.
The line went dead.
THE STRANGER RETURNS
The same woman Skylar had seen in the woods was waiting outside Carmine's again.
Sitting on the bench, same exact spot.
This time, Skylar didn't avoid her.
She walked straight over and sat down, heart pounding but jaw clenched.
The woman looked pleased.
"You've seen the light in your eyes now," she said without looking over.
Skylar stayed silent.
"Your soul remembers. Even if your mind doesn't. That's how it starts."
Skylar's fingers tapped restlessly against her thigh. "What am I?"
"You were chosen," the woman said. "Not just in this life. But in all the lives before."
"Chosen for what?"
"To protect the other half of your soul."
Skylar stiffened.
"Avery," she whispered.
"She's the key," the woman nodded. "To unlocking what's dormant. But that means others will come. They already are. Old bloodlines don't just vanish. And neither do their enemies."
Skylar finally turned toward her. "Enemies?"
The woman looked at her, and for the first time, Skylar noticed—her eyes were silver.
"The ones who fear your return. The ones who tried to end your line the first time."
THE NIGHT THEY ALMOST TOUCHED
Two nights later, they found themselves in Avery's dorm room.
Neither had planned it.
Skylar had come to return Avery's notebook, said she found it outside the cafe. But they both knew that wasn't the only reason.
The conversation drifted.
From music. To favorite places. To old memories neither realized they shared until the words came out the same.
"I swear I've been in that house before," Avery murmured, describing a white cabin from a dream. "It had ivy all over the windows."
Skylar stared. "That's the dream I had two nights ago."
Their laughter died.
Silence filled the space.
Avery reached for the pendant again, almost unconsciously. "I don't even like studs," she said suddenly. "No offense."
Skylar smiled faintly. "None taken. I'm usually not this soft. But around you…"
She didn't finish the sentence.
Avery stepped closer.
The pendant glowed again.
Skylar's fingers brushed it.
Their foreheads nearly touched.
But Avery pulled away.
"I can't," she whispered.
"Why not?"
"Because I think this is bigger than us. And I'm scared if we start something… we can't undo it."
Skylar's voice dropped to a whisper. "Maybe it's not supposed to be undone."
THE PHOTO
Later that night, Avery's phone buzzed with a message from a blocked number.
No words.
Just an image.
A black-and-white photo, cracked with age.
It showed two women—masculine-presenting. Holding hands in front of a field. One had short twists and dark skin. The other wore a leather jacket and stared dead into the camera with a scowl that looked hauntingly familiar.
They looked exactly like Skylar and Avery.
Avery dropped the phone.
Heart racing.
The past was no longer distant.
It was knocking.