When did I first feel loneliness? Or rather, when did it sink so deep into me?

I think the day we buried my grandmother, loneliness took me over completely.

What's the hardest thing for an orphaned girl?

Is it learning to accept death because you've lost so much already? Or is it holding on to the only person you have, so deeply it nearly destroys you?

I suppose both were true for me. My grandmother was everything.

Years ago, she and I left this cursed town behind.

Because this town had taken my mother and father from me. Even the cause of their deaths was hidden away like some dark mystery. They only ever said: a fire.

I wouldn't learn until much later that it was a witch hunt.

And now, I'm carrying out my grandmother's last wish. Returning to this cursed place to spend the New Year in a lonely mountain cabin.

I can hear you asking why this was her last wish. I'm surprised by it too. But my grandmother was always an extraordinary woman. So all I can say is, she must have had her reasons, and they made perfect sense to her.

I also want to let myself drift for a while, let life carry me. I need to accept that she's gone. Maybe this short holiday will do me good.

Three days later, I was driving along the icy road toward the town of Blackthorn.

As my red pickup climbed the hill, the wind filled my ears with an ominous moan. My only goal was to reach the cabin as fast as possible. Soon, in the middle of the snow-covered forest road, I spotted a dark shape. Drawing closer, I realized it was a vehicle.

"Looks like it broke down," I thought. A man stood there with the hood open, examining the engine. The closer I got, the more I wondered. Despite the bone freezing cold, he wore only a T shirt, as if he felt nothing.

For a moment I thought about just driving past, not getting involved. The town's hostility had rubbed off on me, I guess. But damn it. I couldn't be as cruel as these people. My grandmother raised me with kindness. So I pulled over on the right.

I reached for my coat in the passenger seat and put it on. The moment I stepped out of the car, I started shivering. It felt like my nose had frozen solid and was about to fall off. Fine, I'm the type who gets cold even in summer. But these cursed lands really put on a show with their freezing climate.

I walked a little closer and called out, "Hey, looks like you're stranded?"

The man lifted his eyes from the engine and looked at me. His gaze felt colder, deeper than the freezing air around us.

Then I studied him a little more. Aside from this unsettling scene, he was incredibly handsome. Breathtaking, even. Jet black hair, dark silver eyes, chiseled features, tall, muscular, and those piercing looks.

I think I was impressed. Only a little. Don't get carried away, ladies.

He lifted his head from the hood and looked at me. A sly, flirtatious smile crossed his face.

"Yeah, you could say I'm stranded," he said, and closed the hood.

I was shocked by what I saw. A massive log was embedded in the windshield. Actually embedded. The strange thing was, did this man not see that? Did he really think the problem was the engine?

"Wow. Like a giant came along and stuck this tree into your windshield like a giant toothpick." I couldn't hide the surprise on my face.

Suddenly he burst out laughing. "Ah. I think giants went extinct a long time ago." Then his eyes fixed on me with a meaningful look. "This town's past is remembered for its wolves and witches," he murmured.

"Hmm. Thanks for the interesting local history lesson. But I don't think I can find you a witch or a wolf right now." I smiled.

Then I pointed to my car. "But I do have a vehicle. If you want, I can give you a ride into town."

He looked at me with deep dimples appearing as he smiled. Then something strange happened. For a moment, I could have sworn I saw a silver shimmer spinning in his eyes.

"If it's no trouble, I'd be grateful," he said.

I nodded and walked toward the car. At the door I called back, "It's no trouble as long as you don't complain about me listening to Elwes in the car."

With a deep smile, he grabbed his leather jacket from his car and came over. The moment he got in, his expression changed. I think the full blast of the heater hit him like desert heat.

With a knowing look, he said, "I guess you were a little cold."

What was that look? Did this man just judge me? Not everyone has to be as grumpy and cold as you. Some people like warm climates. Whatever.

I couldn't project these thoughts onto a stranger.

"I'm always cold," I said with a smile. And I hit the gas.

From the moment the drive began, his eyes were on me. Under normal circumstances, being watched by a man this handsome might feel flattering. But the people in this town were so strange I wasn't sure it was a good thing.

Finally I said, "Hey, can you cut that out?" Glancing at him briefly before focusing back on the road.

He ran his fingers through his hair and smiled sheepishly. "Sorry. You're just so different. I can't take my eyes off you."

"Everyone in this town makes me feel so different. I'm starting to think I have 'I'm a stranger' written on my forehead." I grimaced.

He let out a deep laugh. He seemed to enjoy provoking me.

"Are you always this sarcastic?" he asked, still smiling.

Right then, for no reason, I wanted to be honest with him, and the words just spilled out. "Let's call it my way of camouflaging pain. I lost my grandmother recently." I looked at his face.

Normally when someone tells you that, you offer condolences, and your expression shows surprise. But this man's face showed neither surprise nor anything else. As if he already knew. Yet no one had attended my grandmother's funeral except the gravedigger who buried her. It was deeply unsettling.

A few seconds later, he asked, "I'm sorry. Did you love her very much?"

"Yes. She was my only family. I loved her more than anything." As I thought of my grandmother, I felt anger stirring in my eyes, and I didn't understand why. What was I angry about? That she left me by dying?

"I understand. Then why are you still here?" he asked.

Normally I would have answered all this politely. But I didn't like being interrogated. His question, "Why didn't you leave?" was just as infuriating as the townspeople who didn't want me here.

I turned to him, raised an eyebrow in a mocking expression, and said, "For Christmas. I just came to celebrate Christmas."

He wasn't surprised. On the contrary, he looked as if he understood I was mocking him. Then we didn't speak for the rest of the drive.

Finally we reached the town center. I stopped the car. He got out and came to the window. A warm smile on his face.

"My name's Joe," he said.

I extended my hand. "Eva. Eva Rose."

"Nice to meet you," he said. His expression changed. I could see the sly grin on his face. "Well then, Merry Christmas, Rose girl."

At that, my eyebrows furrowed. The day I came to town to arrange the funeral, everyone had looked at me as if they wanted to kill me, and they'd used that same phrase. What the hell was this "Rose girl" business? Every person I ran into called me Rose's girl with a disgusted look. As if having the surname Rose wasn't just a name to these townsfolk, it was an insult.

Just then, the old man who ran the town market, sitting on a wooden chair on the sidewalk, suddenly came running over, pointed his finger, and shouted, "Don't talk to her, Joe! Have you lost your mind? She brings bad luck!"

Hearing that, I reached the end of the politeness my grandmother had taught me. I stuck my head out the car window and pointed my finger back at him.

"I am not cursed! I'm not carrying a contagious disease. I don't even know you. Stop talking about me, you senile old man!" Then I started the engine.

But my anger wasn't finished. As I drove past him, I added with a mocking smirk, "Well, I talked to you after all. I hope I really do bring you bad luck."

I hit the gas furiously and drove off. In the rearview mirror I could see the man's face bright red with rage. And Joe, doubled over laughing, slapping his knee.

I suppose this stubborn town was about to witness just how stubborn the Rose women could be...

When I arrived at the mountain house, my anger melted away instantly.

The magical place I remembered from my childhood... but it had aged over the years.

The key was still in the same place: under the flowerpot in front of the window. I pushed open the heavy wooden door with trembling hands. The silence of years crashed down on me.

"Grandma," I called out to the empty house. "You really left me an old, dusty mountain cabin. How did you expect me to celebrate Christmas here?"

It looked daunting, but I had to start somewhere. I rolled up my sleeves and got to work.

I swept and wiped for hours. My hands ached, and my back was killing me. But the house was slowly beginning to remember itself.

By the time I finished, the sun was just beginning to set behind the mountains. I remembered I needed to bring in the kitchen supplies.

It took three trips to bring everything inside. As I set down the last box, my phone rang. Maya.

"Eva! Oh God, you finally picked up! Are you okay?"

I flopped onto the old velvet couch. "I'm still standing. Haven't collapsed yet."

But she was worried. "Don't put on an act. How are you really?"

I was about to put on my mask. Then I thought about my loneliness and everything I had been through this week. I chose to be honest.

"Ugh, fine... This place is a madhouse, Maya. The people here have genuinely lost their minds. They refused to sell me food. I had to drive to a town an hour away."

"What? Eva, that's insane! If they're treating you like that, why are you still there?"

"I made a promise to my grandmother," I said, my voice softening. "I'm spending Christmas here."

There was a brief silence. Maya didn't want to upset me, but she was worried about me being there.

"Eva... you gave her a beautiful funeral. Don't you think you've done enough? You can come home. You can even come to me. You don't have to torture yourself in those freezing mountains."

I closed my eyes. My grandmother's wise, loving gaze came to mind. In that moment, everything made sense.

"She wanted to spend her last Christmas here. Especially here, with me. I made her a promise, Maya. It will be good for both of us. I'll rest for a few weeks, then I'll come back."

"Alright," Maya said helplessly. "But Eva, please don't forget your vitamins. You hate the cold. I'm worried you're going to get sick."

I laughed. "If you keep talking like this, I'll freeze stiff on this couch. I need to get firewood. I need to light the fireplace."

"Okay, okay! I'll let you have your alone time, but show signs of life every now and then."

"Deal. Talk later, Maya."

I hung up quickly.

I put my coat on and went outside. The sun had nearly disappeared. The woodshed was about twenty meters from the house.

I opened its creaky door and grabbed an armful of firewood. I loaded my arms so full I could barely see in front of me.

I started walking toward the house. My ash-blonde hair was whipping in the wind. Since I couldn't see ahead, I turned my head sideways as I walked.

And then I saw it.

At first I thought it was an illusion. But it was there.

At the entrance to the forest path... about ten meters away... stood a massive wolf.

A wolf? It was far too large for a wolf. It was literally the size of a bear. Its reddish-brown fur gleamed in the fading daylight. But what truly froze me were those eyes.

Burning amber eyes. So different from any wild animal. Intelligent. Aware. Staring straight into my eyes with a piercing gaze.

I flinched at the image that suddenly flared to life in my mind. These were the eyes I had seen in my dreams since childhood. Those familiar, warm, longing eyes. As the years passed and I grew older, those dreams had transformed into darker, more passionate fantasies. A muscular, attractive man.

Now, how could a wolf have those eyes? God, I thought my brain was playing tricks on me.

When I stepped back in fear, my foot slipped on the ice.

The firewood in my arms scattered onto the snow with a crash. I fell flat on my back. My breath was knocked out of me.

I pulled myself together. When I turned my head in that direction, it was gone.

I rubbed my eyes. I looked again. The path was completely empty. There were only trees, snow, and silence.

"What is happening..." I whispered, trembling.

I couldn't stay out there any longer. I jumped to my feet, grabbed a long piece of firewood to protect myself, and frantically scanned my surroundings. Nothing. No tracks, no shadow, no movement.

Did I imagine it? Is this PTSD? Or am I losing my mind?

I quickly gathered the scattered firewood, glancing over my shoulder every second. Then I ran for the house.

The moment I stepped inside, I slammed the door shut and locked it.

I lit the fireplace with shaking hands. Once the fire finally caught, I calmed down a little in its warmth. Sometimes people who have experienced psychological trauma can have hallucinations. Maybe that was what had just happened.

I hadn't had coffee in days. As a caffeine addict, I hadn't even thought about it during the grieving process. I went to the kitchen and made a strong, dark cup of coffee. I sat down on the floor in front of the fire and began to sip it in the silence.

Then the wolf came back to my mind.

"Even if it was real... it's just a wolf. A very large wolf. Perfectly normal for the mountains... right?"

I had experienced quite enough action for one day. I just wanted to rest. But the universe chose to surprise me again.

Suddenly, there was a clicking sound at the door.

I nearly spilled my coffee in fright. Who would be knocking on my door at this hour? On top of a mountain? In the middle of nowhere?

The worst-case scenarios immediately began spinning through my mind. The townspeople? Or had that giant wolf learned to knock?

I rose to my feet, heart pounding. I went to the window and looked outside through the frosted glass.

On the veranda stood a young woman about my age. Her curly red hair was braided in two plaits, she had freckles on her cheeks, and her face wore a warm, reassuring smile.

Cautiously, I opened the door a crack.

"Yes... how can I help you?"

Her smile widened. "Hi! I'm Eleanor!"

I just stared for a moment. Then she laughed. "Oh, sorry! You don't remember me. I'm Elly!"

I frowned. My brain was running slowly from exhaustion. Then a memory materialized before my eyes. A girl with mud all over her face, laughing, gap-toothed, hair a mess. We used to play together as children.

"Elly?!" I exclaimed in shock. "I can't believe it! Mud-pie Elly?!"

"That's me!" she squealed with delight.

I threw the door wide open and hugged her.

"Welcome back!" she said, her eyes shining. "I heard you'd returned to town. I figured you might be missing a few things your first night, so I came to see you right away. I thought I might be able to help."

This was genuinely the best thing that had happened to me today. A familiar face. A face that still cared for me.

"Come in!" I said. "It's absolutely freezing out there."

She smiled and stepped right inside. She walked toward the warm glow of the fire, rubbing her hands together. Then she looked at me with a tender expression in her eyes.

"I still can't believe you're here," she said.

I was so excited. "Me neither. I'm so glad to see you right now."

In this cursed little town, I had finally found something that would let me breathe a little...

That evening, the crackling of the fireplace filled the silence between us.

"I still can't believe you're here," Elly said softly.

I pulled my grandmother's old crocheted blanket tighter around my shoulders and let out a long breath. The weight I had been carrying since the funeral suddenly felt like something I could share. I had to stay strong against the townspeople all day. But here, with Elly, I could finally let my guard down.

"I'm barely holding on, Elly," I whispered. My voice trembled. "I keep telling myself I'm fine. That I can do this. That I'm keeping her memory alive. But the truth is... I'm scared. She was the only person I had. Now she's gone, and I'm in this place where everyone looks at me like I'm cursed. Like I'm carrying death with me wherever I go."

Elly moved closer and wrapped her arm around my shoulders. "You're not cursed, Eva. You're brave. You came back here knowing exactly what kind of welcome you would get. That takes real courage."

I laughed bitterly and wiped my tears. "Courage or stupidity? I'm not sure which."

"Courage," she insisted. "Definitely courage."

A deep laugh burst out of me. "You know what? I think I'm genuinely losing my mind."

"Why?"

"Ever since childhood, I've been dreaming of a man with eyes like flames. And just now, I compared a wolf's eyes to his."

Elly's expression changed instantly. "What do you mean?"

I took a sip of my coffee. "Right before you arrived, I was getting firewood from the woodshed. And I swear, Elly... I saw something. A wolf. But not a normal wolf. This thing was enormous. The size of a bear. Reddish-brown fur. And those eyes..."

I paused, remembering that gaze. "Its eyes were just like the man in my dreams. Glowing. Amber-colored. It just stood there, looking at me. Then it vanished."

The moment the words left my mouth, Elly's face went pale. She set down her glass with trembling hands and reached for me. She grabbed the hem of my sweater and pulled it aside, exposing my collarbone and upper chest. She touched my skin gently, as if searching for something beneath it.

"Hey! What are you doing, Elly?" I cried out, pulling back.

Her shoulders dropped with a relieved look. She let go of my sweater and sat back on her heels. "Sorry. I apologize," she said quickly. "I just... needed to check something."

I was frozen. "Check what exactly?"

She bit her lip. "Do you have a fever? High fever can cause hallucinations. I was checking your temperature."

I laughed. "Elly, I'm a nurse. I would know if I had a fever high enough to cause hallucinations. Also, wouldn't checking my forehead be more effective than looking at my chest?"

She smiled. "You're right. Of course. That was silly of me." She looked away.

But I saw it clearly now. The lingering fear in her eyes. The tension in her shoulders. She was afraid of something. And it was connected to what I had just told her.

Then she turned to me with forced cheerfulness. "Hey! Let's play a game. How about scary story time? I'll start."

I shook my head. "Seriously? Aren't we a bit too old for that?"

"Come on," she insisted. "It'll be fun. Besides, you're in a creepy mountain cabin in the middle of winter. Perfect setting."

I sighed dramatically and sank deeper into the couch. "Fine. But if I have nightmares, I'm blaming you."

Elly's expression turned serious. "They say that long ago, blood-drinking demons lived in this valley. Not metaphorical demons. Real ones. They hypnotized people. Enslaved them. Tortured and killed them for sport. The demons built their kingdom on human suffering."

Despite my sarcasm, the story caught my attention. "Go on."

"The witches were an ancient bloodline with sacred magic. But they could not defeat the demons alone. So they created something new. Something powerful enough to protect both themselves and humanity. They merged three ancient forces: the power of a demon, the body of a wolf, and a witch who gave herself willingly to complete the transformation."

I could not help myself. "Let me guess. Like every story like this, there's a foolish girl who sacrifices herself for some man."

Elly shot me a look that clearly said shut up. But I just shrugged.

"What? Why is there always a woman throwing herself into danger to keep some man or Frankenstein creature alive? That's basically sexism."

Elly rolled her eyes but kept going. "The Börü lineage was born. The wolf clan. Every wolf was bound to a witch woman. They were connected by both a curse and a love powerful enough to transcend death. Together, they overthrew the demons. Humanity was saved. The witches became the mates of the wolves. The wolves became the protectors of all."

She paused. Her voice dropped to nearly a whisper. "But then... the woman of one of the wolves betrayed him."

Now she had my full attention. "Really? I wasn't expecting a Lilith to come out of this story. What did they do? Shun her? Burn her at the stake? They definitely punished her. How progressive for enlightened supernatural beings."

"Eva, please," Elly said seriously. "The wolf's woman fell in love with a human man. But she was deceived. The man she loved was a hunter. She betrayed her own kind for him. She broke the ancient magic that bound the witches and wolves together. The midnight seal. The one that gave the wolves their immortal forms and their ability to shift. It shattered. The wolves became trapped in their immortal wolf bodies. Unable to die. Unable to truly live. The witches were scorned by humanity because of this betrayal."

"And the man she loved? The hunter? What did he do?"

Elly's voice grew darker. "The hunter... after getting what he wanted, he and his hunter lineage began systematically destroying the witch bloodline. They slaughtered them. Hunted them down one by one. They also killed the ordinary people who supported the witches and wolves. Their goal was never love. It was only power."

A chill that had nothing to do with the cold crept through me. An inexplicable sorrow settled over my heart. Something in this story was wounding me in a way I could not understand.

I looked at Elly. "You didn't tell me this story just for fun, did you?"

She swallowed hard and nodded.

"Rose's daughter," I said slowly as the pieces fell into place. "That's why they call me Rose's daughter with such hatred. Because of some ridiculous old legend?"

Elly reached out and took my hand. "Eva, listen to me. People can be shallow, narrow-minded, and cruel. But legends... don't always lie. Promise me one thing. If you ever see anything that could prove this story is real, you'll come to me and ask for help."

I studied her face. She was smiling, but beneath it I could see genuine fear and worry.

"Alright. I promise. But tell me one thing. Where do you fit into this story?"

"I'm a guardian," she said simply. "My family has always been guardians. We protect the ancient bloodlines. Both the wolves and the witches. We believe in the balance. The peace. The harmony they bring. We remember their sacrifice."

I wanted to dismiss all of it as small town superstition. But looking at Elly's sincere face, I noticed something important. She believed it. Completely. And whether the legend was real or not, I trusted her.

"I'm glad you're here, Elly. Even if you're a little crazy, it's wonderful to have you beside me."

The tension on her face dissolved into laughter. "Same goes for you, Eva Rose!"

An hour later, Elly's rear lights disappeared down the mountain road. I was alone again with the crackling fire and my tangled thoughts.

I poured a glass of my grandmother's homemade wine. I had discovered the stash in the pantry while cleaning. I took my glass and settled into the velvet armchair by the fireplace.

I closed my eyes and let the memories wash over me. My grandmother always had a Turkish song she used to sing. She would hum it while hanging ornaments on the Christmas tree. While her worn hands braided my hair. Her voice was always filled with love and longing.

I never knew what the words meant. But I had learned the sounds. The melody. It was hauntingly beautiful. Sorrowful and passionate at the same time.

Now, with the wine warming my blood and the firelight casting dancing shadows on the walls, I found myself humming those same words.

"Yar elinden ölüm, olacak benim sonum. Sonu yok bu, Aşk-ı kıyamet..."

Death by the hand of my beloved shall be my end. This love has no end. A love of apocalyptic ruin.

My voice faded into the quiet crackling of the fire. The wine weighed down my limbs and my eyelids. I did not even try to move to the bedroom. The velvet armchair was comfortable. The fire was warm. I was exhausted.

I fell asleep.

But outside, hidden in the pitch black of the winter night, a pair of amber eyes watched the house.

Eyes that carried centuries of pain. Centuries of longing. And perhaps even love.

The wolf had heard every word of that song.

And deep within his cursed form, something ancient and powerful stirred.

The midnight seal had begun to wake...