"I'm Lisa and that one over there is my brother Carson. Lisa responds a little too excitedly, pointing over to the tall blonde-haired guy standing by the door. He's the cutest guy I've ever seen, not that I've seen many guys though. Just a few, I wasn't allowed to mingle with anyone at that dreadful prison I've been living in since childhood. He appears to be 6'1" in height with a lean, slender build and muscles like he frequents the gym. He's looking at me with bright blue eyes and a sheepish smile on his lips.
"Hey, you look better now, much better than we anticipated. We're surprised your body heals so quickly, but it's good, I think," he says, stepping inside to stand beside his sister.
"Thanks for helping me. I really appreciate it," I mumble, my voice weak with fatigue.
Lisa bites her lip and tilts her head slightly in thought. "Can you remember what happened to you before you lost consciousness? We found you naked close to the road. Thankfully, we were just coming back from hiking at that time. Who knew what would have happened if we didn't find you then?" she comments, shaking her little frame with perceived dread.
"Well, let's think about good stuff only! Good thing we found her when we did, right?" Carson says, trying to lighten the mood around the room. I nod in support of his statement.
"What's your name?" Lisa asks excitedly, like a young child who just got a new toy.
"I'm Elvira," I reply.
"Elvira," Carson whispers softly, and I look up at his face. He looks so warm and accommodating, which is strange. I'm always unsettled around people, but these two siblings make me feel warm and safe.
"I love the tattoo on your lower back. It looks pretty, but the shape is..."
"What tattoo?" I ask, cutting Lisa off. I've never gotten any tattoos.
"I don't have any tattoos. In fact, I've never been to a tattoo shop before," I tell them frankly.
The two siblings exchange looks. "But you have one on your upper bum, just in the middle. It was an interesting shape, so I took a look," Lisa explains.
I must have had a horrible, scary look on my face because they both look concerned immediately. "Are you sure you're feeling okay?" Carson asks, coming closer to the bed to check my body temperature.
"Yes, I'm good. It's just... I'm good," I reply with a forced smile. Hopefully, they won't pressure me with too many questions. I'm really not wanting to seem like I have a problem with them helping me. In fact, I'm beyond grateful for their help, but I don't trust anyone yet.
"You must be hungry. We prepared something for you to eat and regain your strength," Lisa says, giving me a hand to help me get up.
Dinner is simple and quiet. No one asks too many personal questions, and after that, we all retire for the night. I'm thankful they didn't push me; I just need to rest and figure out what to do.
Over the next several days, I settle into the rhythm of their days. I learn about their background, their home. I enjoy the way Lisa's laughter can cut through the fatigue of a long day, and how Carson moves with a quiet, steady energy and safety that makes me feel seen.
In those days, I learn a truth that weighs on me more than any plan: the siblings, though just two in number, carry a fortress of love around a shared life. Their parents died in a plane crash a few years ago, a fate that thinned their family to just the two of them. They stand together, tending the café their parents left behind as a living tribute, and in that small, stubborn unity, I find a hint of belonging I hadn't realized I'd been searching for.
But even as I grow to care for them, I think of their safety too. I don't want them entangled in my secret life. They have no idea I'm a werewolf, and I have in mind to find refuge in the Silverblade pack. I've heard Carson speak about them so many times. The whisper of the Silverblade pack alone tugs at me like a rope thrown from a cliff. It's the only place I can go to seek refuge and protection from an abusive stepfather who still haunts the edges of my memories. The Silverblade training program is the chance to train among the legendary warriors of a pack that never forgives weakness. I plan to train with them and be strong to avenge my mother's brutal death.
The road forward presses in my mind with every quiet moment. Six months I'll spend training in the SilverBlade pack if I pass their beginners test. The possibility of the risk I'll be walking into by stepping onto Silverblade territory as an intruder in a pack that does not forgive trespassers easily is a huge risk I'm willing to bet on.
One late afternoon, as the siblings close the café with their practiced choreography, I blurt out, "After tonight, I will be leaving for my next destination."
Lisa stops and slowly turns, the weight of the conversation evident in the gravity of her voice. "You could stay with us until you figure things out."
"I don't want to burden you guys anymore, Lisa. You've done a lot for me already by helping me these two weeks, but I need to move on. I have somewhere to be," I add, fidgeting with the soft cotton top Lisa lent me.
Carson steps closer, his gaze steady and honest, like he understands me more than I explain. His kind eyes draw me into their warmth. "You're not a burden, Elvira. We don't owe you anything, but you've made a place in our lives these few weeks. If you want to go, we won't stand in your way. If you want to stay, we'll stand beside you."
My breath catches. The decision I've been rushing toward is an escape plan, a mission, and a chance to belong somewhere I won't be hunted—hung in the air between us. I look from Lisa's hopeful, almost childlike expression to Carson's quiet resolve to support me in my decision, no matter what I choose.
"Can you guys give me a long ride to Pennsylvania tomorrow? I'd be so grateful if you drop me off there," I ask, trying to sound casual.
Seeing their sad faces, I quickly add, "Don't look so sad. We can always share letters and phone calls, okay?"
"Okay," they reply together, pulling me into a tight hug. I'm going to miss them—this little family I've found. But I don't want to put their lives in danger. Unbeknownst to them, I'm a werewolf, not a human like them. And I like it this way.
Tomorrow, I'll leave for the feared Silverblade pack... and that could be a one-way ticket to my death. As I pull back from the hug, my eyes lock onto a shadow in the trees outside, lost in thought. Am I taking a bad risk? Will I regret leaving them here?