Veiled

**Rowan's POV**

“All right, team… I’ll see you tomorrow. And don’t forget, tonight’s the deadline for submitting your patient notes,” Mr. Nelson announced, his tone sharp yet laced with the weariness of a long day. He snapped the clipboard shut with an air of finality, his shoes tapping purposefully against the floor as he exited the room.

The moment he disappeared through the door, the clinic’s small breakroom came alive with noise. My coworkers, a tight-knit group, were quick to dissolve into chatter. Laughter bubbled up from one corner of the room, and conversations about evening plans filled the space. Despite the cheerful atmosphere, I felt an odd sense of detachment, like I was there but not really present.

“Rowan,” Luna’s bright voice cut through the din, pulling me out of my thoughts. She stood by the door, her scarf already slung around her neck, a mischievous glint in her eye. “We’re heading to the lounge. Jenny and Emi are having another dance-off. You’ve got to come! It’s going to be hilarious!”

I glanced at her and offered a half-smile. “Sounds fun,” I said, though I already knew my answer.

Martha, always quick to chime in, added her two cents with a grin. “You should come, Rowan! Last time was pure chaos. I’m pretty sure the patients upstairs could hear us cheering—it was that good.”

Shaking my head, I reached for my leather jacket draped over the back of a chair. “You guys go ahead. I need to grab some records from Dr. Meyers’ office before I leave.” My tone was casual, but the weight of the day’s events pressed on me. I couldn’t muster the energy for laughter and lighthearted competition.

“Your loss,” Luna teased, tossing a playful wave over her shoulder as she left the room with Martha close behind. Their voices lingered in the hallway for a moment before fading into the clinic’s quiet rhythm.

The clinic was small, a private practice tucked away in the remote wilderness of Alaska. It was a cozy place, more like a family home than a sterile medical facility, but it came with its own challenges. The isolation was both a blessing and a curse—serenity and solitude on one hand, but a constant reminder of how far removed we were from the rest of the world on the other.

I stepped into the main hallway, the faint hum of the heating system blending with the soft creak of the wooden floors beneath my boots. The last patients had left hours ago, and the stillness of the clinic now bordered on eerie.

Through one of the windows, I caught a glimpse of the storm brewing outside. The sky was a heavy gray, the kind that promised more than just a light snowfall. The wind rattled the glass, its icy breath creeping into the building despite the heaters working overtime.

“Great,” I muttered under my breath, zipping my jacket up to my chin. Another storm. Just what we needed.

The idea of a late-night run crossed my mind, but I knew the worsening weather would make it nearly impossible. Still, I craved it. The release, the freedom of letting my wolf take over for just a little while, was something I looked forward to after long days like this.

As I walked, the quiet seemed to stretch unnaturally. The clinic’s halls were dimly lit to save energy, most of the overhead lights already switched off for the night. Normally, the soft glow was comforting, but tonight, it felt… different. The shadows seemed to press closer, their edges sharper against the pale walls.

A prickle ran down the back of my neck, an instinct I couldn’t ignore. Something was off.

I paused mid-step, scanning the corridor ahead. My senses—always sharper than they should be—strained for any sign of movement, any sound beyond the faint hum of the heater. Nothing. The hall was empty, just as it should be.

Yet the feeling didn’t fade.

I forced myself to keep moving, my steps quicker now. The office was just a few turns away, and the sooner I got there, the sooner I could be done for the night. But as I walked, that prickling sensation only grew stronger, crawling under my skin like static electricity.

Then I heard it.

A sound so faint I almost dismissed it as my imagination. A whisper, like wind slipping through a crack in the window. But there were no cracks here, and the sound didn’t fade. It grew louder, wrapping around me like smoke, words just out of reach.

My heart picked up its pace, though my face remained neutral. I’d learned long ago not to show fear, even when every instinct screamed otherwise. Slowly, I turned my head, scanning the hall behind me.

Nothing.

The corridor was empty, the shadows still. But the air felt charged, heavy with a presence I couldn’t see.

I pressed on, my footsteps echoing faintly. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw it—a flicker of movement against the wall to my right. I stopped cold, turning sharply to look.

Shadows.

They stretched unnaturally across the wall, their edges twisting and writhing as if alive. My stomach tightened. This wasn’t normal.

One of the shadows began to shift, peeling away from the wall like smoke solidifying into form. It grew taller, taking on a vaguely humanoid shape, though it lacked any distinct features.

The air around me grew colder, and when the thing spoke, its voice was a low, chilling whisper that seemed to echo directly inside my head.

“Seward is bleeding, and it’s going to bleed more.”

My pulse spiked. The words were the same ones I’d heard last night—words I’d tried to convince myself were just part of a bad dream. But now, faced with this thing, I couldn’t deny the truth.

“What do you want?” I demanded, my voice low but steady. My hands clenched at my sides, nails threatening to shift into claws. I forced the wolf down, keeping it buried where no one could see.

The shadow didn’t answer. Instead, more of them began to emerge, crawling out of the corners and pooling around me like dark water.

“No one is going to survive it,” one of them hissed, its voice like ice splintering.

The familiar burn of my wolf surged beneath my skin, and for a moment, I felt my control slipping. My vision blurred, and I knew my eyes had flashed gold. I clenched my fists tighter, forcing myself to take slow, even breaths.

Not here. Not now.

“Leave me alone,” I growled, the words edged with a guttural tone I couldn’t entirely suppress.

The shadows only laughed, their voices overlapping in a chorus of chilling whispers. I stepped back, then again, until my back hit the wall.

Then I ran.