The days after the downtown confrontation were uneasy.
The air around the packhouse felt heavier, like the forest itself was holding its breath. Every creak of wood, every distant howl at night made everyone flinch.
Rafe hadn’t shown himself again—not directly. But his presence was still everywhere. A few people from town reported strange things: missing tools, damaged cars, faint laughter in the dark.
He was sending messages without ever stepping foot near us.
Asher doubled the patrols. Eryx organized training shifts. Arlo and Gage worked longer hours, trying to track Rafe’s energy signatures with his monitors. Even with all that, no one could predict when he would appear next.
By the third evening, the tension was wearing everyone down.
I sat on the back porch steps, watching the l
