Chapter 87

Achilles walked Shea to her room, their fingers intertwined. At her doorway, he pulled her close, one hand cupping her face while the other rested on her waist. Their lips met in a deep, passionate kiss that made Shea's heart race. His touch was gentle yet possessive, sending shivers down her spine.

When they finally broke apart, both were breathless. Achilles pressed his forehead against hers for a moment before stepping back.

"Goodnight," he whispered, his blue eyes intense as they held her gaze.

"Goodnight," Shea replied softly, reluctantly letting go of his hand.

She closed the door and got ready for bed, her mind still swimming with everything they'd learned about her father's research. As soon as her head hit the pillow, exhaustion took over and she drifted off to sleep.

Suddenly, Shea found herself standing in the middle of unfamiliar woods. The air felt different - thicker, almost charged with energy. Moonlight filtered through the dense canopy above, casting strange shadows on the forest floor. She turned in a slow circle, trying to get her bearings.

This wasn't like any part of the Lockewood forests she knew. The trees seemed older, their trunks wider and more gnarled. Mist curled around her feet as she took tentative steps forward. The usual nighttime sounds of the forest were absent, replaced by an eerie silence.

"Hello?" she called out, her voice sounding muffled in the heavy air. No response came.

Shea realized she was dreaming, but everything felt unusually vivid and real. She could feel the damp earth beneath her bare feet and smell the rich scent of decaying leaves. The moonlight seemed to pulse with an otherworldly glow, making the mist shimmer around her as she walked.

Shea walked through the misty forest, her eyes scanning the unfamiliar surroundings. The moonlight cast strange shadows that danced across the ground.

"Where am I?" she whispered to herself, running her hand along the rough bark of an ancient tree. "This doesn't feel like any part of Lockewood I know."

"That's because it isn't!" a cheerful voice rang out from above.

Shea's body instantly tensed as she dropped into a defensive stance, her muscles coiled and ready. She spun toward the sound, eyes darting upward.

There, perched casually on a thick branch about fifteen feet up, sat a young girl. Her white hair seemed to glow in the moonlight, flowing around her like silk caught in a gentle breeze. Her grey eyes sparkled with mischief and wisdom beyond her apparent years. Her skin was pale as fresh snow, seeming to radiate its own soft light.

"Who are you?" Shea demanded, maintaining her defensive position. "What is this place?"

The girl swung her legs playfully from her perch, completely at ease. "So many questions! You're just like your father was."

Shea's breath caught in her throat. "You knew my father?"

"Of course I did!" The girl's laugh tinkled like silver bells. "Vincent used to visit me here quite often. Though I must say, you're much prettier than he was."

The strange girl leaped down from her branch, landing gracefully in front of Shea. Her bare feet made no sound as they touched the forest floor, and the mist seemed to swirl around her ankles like a living thing.

"You have his eyes, you know," the girl said, tilting her head as she studied Shea's face. "The same curiosity, the same determination."

"How did you know my father?" Shea kept her guard up, though something about the girl's presence felt oddly familiar and comforting.

The girl circled Shea slowly, her movements fluid like water. "Vincent came seeking answers, just as you are now. He understood that sometimes the old ways hold the keys to our future."

"The old ways?"

"The magic that flows through these ancient woods, through the bloodlines of the first werewolves." The girl gestured to their surroundings. "This place exists between reality and dreams, where the veil between worlds is thinnest."

Shea took in the ethereal forest around them - the twisted trunks that seemed to pulse with an inner light, the silvery mist that danced through the air, the stars above that shone with impossible brightness through the canopy.

"Your father spent many nights here, learning our secrets," the girl continued. "He knew that knowledge was power, and power was needed to protect those he loved."

"Did he..." Shea hesitated, her heart aching. "Did he know what would happen to him?"

The girl's playful demeanor softened. "Vincent made his choices knowing the risks. He chose to stand against those who would abuse our gifts, who would corrupt the sacred bonds between wolf and spirit."

She reached out and touched Shea's cheek with fingers that felt like cool moonlight. "You carry his strength within you, little wolf. And more power than you yet realize."

"Who are you?" Shea asked again, studying the strange girl's ethereal features.

The girl's smile widened, her grey eyes twinkling with ancient wisdom that seemed at odds with her youthful appearance. "You'll know soon enough, little wolf." She traced a pattern in the mist with her bare foot. "Some truths reveal themselves only when the time is right."

"But you knew my father. You must have a name," Shea pressed, taking a step closer. The air around the girl shimmered like moonlight on water.

The girl laughed, the sound echoing through the strange forest like wind chimes. "Names hold power in this place. Your father understood that." She twirled in place, her white hair floating around her. "When you're ready, when you truly need to know, you'll understand who I am."

The mist swirled around them, responding to the girl's movements as if it were an extension of her being. Her form seemed to flicker between solid and translucent, like a reflection in disturbed water.

"For now," the girl said, her voice carrying both youth and ageless wisdom, "just know that I am a friend, as I was to Vincent. The answers you seek are already within your reach, Shea Wolfe. You need only learn how to grasp them."