Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

Tamzyn

T he town hall was dark and silent when Tamzyn arrived; the streets deserted in the early hours of the morning. The building loomed before her, its windows dark and unwelcoming, but she didn't hesitate. She had come too far to turn back now.

Tamzyn approached the side entrance, her heart pounding in her chest as she reached for the handle. The door was locked, as she had expected, but a simple spell was all it took to unlock it. She had been surprised to find remnants of old spells protecting the building, but they were no match for her magic, and she slipped inside without making a sound or triggering an alarm.

The air inside the town hall was stale and musty, the scent of old paper and dust hanging heavy in the air. Tamzyn made her way through the darkened corridors, her footsteps echoing softly in the silence. She knew where she was going; she had memorized the layout of the building during her time in Silver Ridge, just in case she ever needed to access the archives. One of the elders in her old coven had stressed that being prepared was a key component to any magic.

The stairway to the basement was at the end of the hall, tucked away behind a set of heavy oak doors. Tamzyn reached for the handle, her fingers brushing against the cool metal. She paused for a moment, steeling herself for what she might find on the other side, then pushed the door open.

The stairs creaked under her weight as she descended into the darkness, the faint light from the hallway above fading into shadows. The basement was colder than the rest of the building, the air damp and tinged with the scent of mildew. Tamzyn shivered, but she pressed on, her resolve unshaken.

The archives were located in a large, windowless room at the far end of the basement. Rows of old filing cabinets lined the walls, their drawers stuffed with yellowing papers and brittle documents. A single, flickering lightbulb hung from the ceiling, casting a dim, eerie glow over the room.

Tamzyn moved quickly, her eyes scanning the labels on the cabinets as she searched for anything that might be related to the prophecy or the dark magic that had taken root in Silver Ridge. The records were old, some of them dating back to the town's founding, and there was no telling how much of the information was accurate.

But she had to try.

She pulled open the first drawer and began sifting through the papers, her fingers brushing against the rough texture of the parchment. Most of the documents were mundane—records of land ownership, old tax records, town meeting minutes—but she pushed on, searching for anything that might hold a clue.

Hours passed as she worked, the pile of discarded papers growing at her feet. Frustration gnawed at her, but she refused to give up. There had to be something here, something that would explain the connection between the prophecy and the dark forces she was fighting.

Finally, just as she was about to give up hope, she found it.

Tucked away in the back of one of the drawers was an old, leather-bound journal, its pages worn and brittle with age. The cover was unmarked, but as soon as Tamzyn opened it, she knew she had found what she was looking for.

The journal belonged to one of the town's founders, a man named Elias Harding, who had settled in Silver Ridge with his family over a century ago. The entries were written in a neat, precise hand, detailing the early days of the town's development and the challenges they had faced.

But it was the later entries that caught Tamzyn's attention. They spoke of strange occurrences in the woods, of dark figures seen in the shadows, and of a powerful magic that had taken root in the land. Elias had written of his growing concern for the safety of the town, of his belief that something ancient and malevolent had been awakened.

The final entries were the most troubling. Elias wrote of a prophecy, one that had been passed down through his family for generations. It spoke of a great darkness that would surround the descendants and their home Silver Ridge, a darkness that could only be stopped by a witch of great power. A witch who was aligned with the wolf. It hadn't specified what wolf or even what kind, but Tamzen knew it had to be the alpha of the Silver Ridge Pack of wolf-shifters. The prophecy was vague, but it was clear that Elias had believed it was connected to the events unfolding in the town.

As Tamzyn read the final lines, a chill ran down her spine. The prophecy was real, and she was a part of it. The dark magic in the woods, the shadow creatures that had attacked her, everything was tied to this ancient curse.

She closed the journal, her mind racing. She had the information she needed, but it wasn't enough. She needed to know more, to understand the full extent of the threat she was facing. And to do that, she would have to delve deeper into the history of Silver Ridge, to uncover the secrets that had been buried for so long.

But as she prepared to leave the archives, a sudden sense of foreboding washed over her. She wasn't alone.

Tamzyn's heart pounded as she sensed the presence of another person in the basement. She turned slowly, her hand instinctively reaching for the protective herbs she had tucked into her pocket. The shadows in the room seemed to shift, and for a moment, she thought she saw a figure standing in the doorway.

But when she blinked, the figure was gone, and the room was empty once more.

Shaking off the unsettling sensation, Tamzyn gathered the journal and slipped it into her bag. She had what she came for, and now she needed to get out of here before she was discovered. She made her way back up the stairs, her footsteps careful and deliberate.

As she reached the top of the stairs and stepped into the hallway, she took one last look back at the basement. The door stood ajar, the darkness within seeming to pulse with a life of its own.

Tamzyn turned away. She had a prophecy to fulfill and a darkness to face, and she was going to need all the strength she could muster to do it.

Neville

The night air was crisp and cold, the scent of pine and earth sharp in Neville's nose as he moved silently through the dense underbrush. He needed to talk to Tamzyn, to find out what she knew. But how could he approach her without scaring her off? He was an alpha, a predator, and she was a witch—one with her own secrets.

Neville finally gave in to the urge that had been gnawing at him since he had last seen her. He drove out of the compound and into town. Once there, he found a dark alley, removed his clothes and shifted into his wolf form, holding his bundled clothes in his mouth. Beginning at the town's archives, he followed her scent to what seemed to be her cottage outside of town. His heart pounded in his chest, torn between the desire to confront her and the need to understand what was going on. He couldn't ignore the pull he felt toward her, but he couldn't afford to let his guard down, either.

Neville shifted back into his human form, pulling on his clothes before approaching her home. He moved silently, his footsteps barely making a sound as he slipped inside her home through a back door that led into her kitchen. He smelled the remnants of her dinner as well as lavender and vanilla from the candles that were burning.

He found Tamzyn in a small room off the kitchen, hunched over a table, her brow furrowed in concentration as she pored over an old, leather-bound book. The room was lined with shelves containing books and objects that were foreign to him. Neville couldn't imagine their use. From the beams in the ceiling, various plants and herbs were hanging to dry. She was so focused that she didn't notice him at first, giving Neville a moment to observe her in silence.

Her hair fell in loose waves around her face as she studied the pages before her. There was something almost vulnerable about her in that moment, and Neville felt a strange, protective instinct flare up within him. But he couldn't afford to let that distract him.

"What are you doing, Tamzyn?" Neville's voice cut through the silence like a knife, and Tamzyn's head snapped up, her eyes widening in shock.

She was on her feet in an instant, her body tensed and ready for a fight. "Neville," she breathed, her voice laced with surprise and suspicion. "What are you doing here?"

"I asked first," Neville replied, his tone cool and controlled.

"I live here. Don't you have to be invited into someone's home?"

"That's an old wives' tale about vampires, but I don't think it's true. You've been sneaking around in the town's archives. What are you up to? What are you hiding?"

Tamzyn's eyes narrowed, and for a moment, Neville thought she might lash out at him. But then her shoulders slumped, and she let out a weary sigh.

"I'm not hiding anything," she said quietly. "I'm trying to find answers. Answers that might save both of us."

Neville took a step closer, his gaze locked on hers. "What do you mean?"

Tamzyn hesitated, her gaze flicking to the book on the table. "There's a prophecy," she said finally. "One that speaks of a great darkness rising in Silver Ridge. A darkness that can only be stopped by a powerful witch and an alpha wolf-shifter."

Neville's breath caught in his throat. "And you think that's us?"

Tamzyn met his gaze, her eyes filled with a mixture of fear and determination. "Do you see anyone else who fits that description? All I know is that something is happening in Silver Ridge, something bigger than either of us. There's a darkness in the woods, something ancient and powerful, and it's growing stronger every day."

Neville felt a chill run down his spine as her words sank in. The pieces were starting to come together, but the picture they painted was terrifying. "And you think this prophecy is real?"

Tamzyn nodded slowly. "I do. I've seen the signs, Neville. The dark magic in the woods, the shadow creatures that attacked me…"

"Shadow creatures? Some kind of something attacking you?" he growled.

"It's fine. I can take care of myself. But I've had visions. All of it points to something bigger. Something that's coming for all of us."

Neville's mind raced as he tried to process everything she was saying. He had never believed in prophecies or fate, but the evidence was impossible to ignore. The curse that had been laid upon him, the rogue wolf-shifter—it was all connected, and it all pointed to a single, terrifying conclusion.

"This is far more in your realm of experience than mine. What do we do?" Neville asked, his voice low and serious.

Tamzyn's eyes locked with his. "We work together. Whatever this darkness is, I think you and I are the only ones who can stop it. But we need to find out more, and we need to do it fast."

Neville nodded, his heart pounding with the weight of their task. He still didn't fully trust Tamzyn, but he knew he didn't have a choice. They were linked by something bigger than themselves, something that could determine the fate of everyone in Silver Ridge.

As they stood there, staring at each other in the dim light of the cottage, Neville felt a strange sense of acceptance settle over him. He didn't know what the future held, but for the first time in a long time, he didn't feel so alone.

They were in this together, whether they liked it or not.

And the darkness was coming.