The smell of antiseptic and wet fur clung to the air as Sera Lane leaned over the examination table, gently coaxing a nervous golden retriever into staying still. Her hands moved with practiced ease, checking the stitches she'd done the night before. The dog whimpered softly, his eyes flicking toward the door.
"Easy, Duke," she murmured, her voice low and melodic—instinctively soothing. "It's just me."
She ran her fingers lightly down his back, stopping at the row of neat sutures. Everything looked good—no swelling, no redness, no infection. Duke let out a soft, almost grateful sigh and settled on the table, finally trusting her.
"You're such a good boy," she added, brushing a hand behind his ear.
Outside the clinic window, the world passed quietly. Halewood was a small, sleepy town tucked between forested hills that never quite lost their chill, even in spring. It was the kind of place where people left their doors unlocked and gossip spread faster than wildfire—except when it came to Sera.
She'd moved here five years ago, right after receiving a mysterious, anonymous sponsorship to the university's veterinary program. No family. No known relatives. No past.
Just a vague story involving foster homes and boarding schools, supported by paperwork that barely scratched the surface.
She didn't remember anything from before the age of ten.
No first day of school. No birthday parties. No bedtime stories.
Only dreams.
Always the same: a moon-drenched forest, a river of blood, and a name whispered over and over in a voice she didn't recognize—Selene.
"You talk to animals more than you talk to people," Dr. Helena Foster said, stepping into the room with a clipboard in hand and a teasing smile on her face.
Sera offered a small smile. "Animals don't ask questions I can't answer."
Helena raised an eyebrow. "Like why a twenty-two-year-old with no background before age ten suddenly shows up here with a full scholarship and an uncanny talent for handling wolves?"
Sera gave a short laugh—the kind that didn't quite reach her eyes. "I'm just good with animals."
"Too good," Helena muttered. "You ever think about your past? Where you really came from?"
"All the time," Sera said quietly. "But it's like there's a wall in my head I can't see over."
Helena studied her for a moment, then scribbled something on her clipboard. "Maybe that's for the best. Some things are better left buried."
Sera didn't respond.
---
That evening, as the sun dipped behind the hills, long shadows stretched over Halewood. Sera's apartment—perched above a dusty old bookstore on the edge of Main Street—was still and quiet. The kettle hissed on the stove, steam curling into the air like ghosts.
She moved through her routine on autopilot: feed the cat, reheat some soup, turn on the TV for background noise. Everything was normal.
Except... it didn't feel normal.
Something was off.
The headache returned—sharp, sudden. It started behind her eyes and crawled down her spine, electric and hot. She gripped the counter for support, her vision swimming.
Then it hit.
A flash of silver. Screams. Smoke. Blood.
"You were always too strong, Selene."
Her eyes flew open.
The kettle shrieked. She yanked it off the burner with trembling hands. Water splashed onto the counter as her knees buckled, hitting the floor hard.
And then she looked up.
The window above the sink had fogged with steam, but she could still make out her reflection.
Only… it wasn't hers.
The woman in the glass had long, flowing black hair and eyes like liquid silver. Her posture was regal. Her expression—calm, yet commanding. She radiated power.
Sera blinked.
The image flickered.
Her own face returned—pale skin, tired gray eyes, messy ponytail.
She backed away until her spine hit the fridge, chest heaving.
"What the hell is happening to me?"
Her cat padded into the kitchen, letting out a soft meow. Sera stared at it, shaken, and whispered, "Did you see that?"
The cat meowed again, then curled into her lap as if nothing had happened. It purred, warm and grounding, pulling her back into the moment.
Sera closed her eyes and forced herself to breathe.
---
By midnight, the headache had dulled into a lingering throb. She lay curled on the couch, untouched soup still on the table. A notebook rested on her lap, half-filled with dream entries and questions she never had answers for.
She flipped to a blank page and began to write.
> March 10
Tonight, I saw her again.
She looked like me… but she wasn't.
Stronger. Sharper. Like she knew things I didn't.
Her eyes were silver, not gray.
I think her name is Selene.
I think she's me.
She stared at the words for a long time before closing the notebook.
---
She didn't so much fall asleep as collapse into it.
And in her dreams, the forest returned.
She stood barefoot on moss under a sky painted in red and silver. The trees were tall, ancient—branches curling like claws. A distant wolf howled, the sound laced with grief and fury.
She walked, drawn forward by something she couldn't name.
The path led her to a black river—its waters still, endless. On the opposite bank stood a cloaked figure, face hidden in shadow.
"I've waited," the voice said. Male. Deep. Familiar.
Sera opened her mouth, but no sound came.
"Come back to me," he said again, almost pleading.
The river widened. Thunder cracked overhead.
And she was falling—into the cold, the dark, the unknown.
She woke gasping, tangled in damp sheets. Her heart pounded.
And just before the memory of the dream slipped away, one thing remained clear:
The man's eyes had glowed gold.