Elena's POV
I could feel it—eyes watching us. Not in the abstract way I sometimes imagined when paranoia crept in, but real. Heavy. Alive.
Callum stiffened. "Go back inside," he whispered, pressing his hand against my arm.
"No."
"Elena—"
Then, a branch snapped.
Not far. Twenty feet at most.
Callum turned sharply toward the noise, shielding me with his body. "Who's there?" he called out.
Silence.
Then, another sound. Lighter this time. Fading footsteps—retreating into the dark.
Callum took a step forward, but I grabbed his hand. "Don't," I whispered. "It's what they want."
He hesitated, jaw clenched. "He was watching us."
The garden lights flickered.
Then went out.
My breath hitched. Everything in me screamed to run.
A motion sensor near the back gate blinked on—just for a second. A figure stood in its halo. Distant. Hooded. Watching.
Then gone.
