Blake's POV

     The three of us decided to take one final lap around town. The search for our missing dog was active but fruitless. We returned to the park, searched the neighborhood once more, but still found nothing. We searched around desperately, and despite our efforts, we decided it was time to go home.

      The crispy night air set a somber, reflective mood as we approached the porch. In the hush of twilight, attentive to my surroundings, the lights automatically glowed dimly as if by magic, crickets chirped animatedly, and a siren whined in the distance.

      Suddenly, a ripple of unrest raced down my spine when I spotted a folded piece of paper on the doormat next to the plotted plants. I wondered who had left it.

       Emma's hands were slippery with sweat where I held onto them. She fixed her gaze to me as I cautiously bent over and picked the note up, unfolding it.

       "Be careful," it read, the handwriting bold and jagged.

      The note was a warning.

      A warning for what?

      "What is this?" I wondered aloud, scanning the darkness around us as if the person who left this behind would show themselves.

      Emma's breath hitched in her throat, and I wasn't sure why she was so frightened. Could it be that the note was meant for her?

      "Emma?" I turned towards her, the note forgotten. "You okay?"

      "Yeah," she replied shakily, the weight of her lie pressing down like a heavy cloak. "I just... I think I should go."

      "Go?" I repeated, confusion lacing my voice. "Emma, you can't just leave."

      She stepped back, casting a wary glance over her shoulder as if the night itself was closing in on her. "No, I mean... I'll stay. I just can't talk about it right now. There are sensitive ears around."

      When she peeked down at my son, I got the memo. She signaled that it wasn't the right time to discuss this matter, because my son was listening to us.

      That's when it clicked that she might have something upsetting or inappropriate to say. I started to worry for her.

       As we stepped into the house, I gently guided my son towards the stairs. "It's bedtime, buddy!" I said softly, ruffling his hair. He nodded sleepily and trudged upstairs without protest.

       How was my son so calm about being sent to his room? I swear, if he were grounded, he'd love it up there.

        Once I heard his door click shut, I turned to her. "You can take a shower if you'd like. I also have clothes you can borrow so you don't have to continue wearing that dress," I offered, trying to keep my tone light. She nodded, but her eyes betrayed her unease.

        After she freshened up and stepped out of the bathroom wearing one of my t-shirts and shorts, I was breathing heavily.

      I didn't know I would like seeing her in my clothes.
       
      She came into my bedroom, because I was looking for clothes to change into. The sound of rummaging through drawers caught her attention. As she entered, the silence was deafening. It had been a long time since I had a woman in here, and I could tell she was having a hard time finding the right words.

       "Sorry, I didn't mean to barge in like this," she said, wringing her hands.

      "It's okay." I paused, folding a shirt. "So, what was it you couldn't say earlier?" I asked gently, hoping to ease her into the conversation.

       "I was worried about what you might think of me when you found out." She bit her lip. "When you saw me arrive on the porch a few nights ago, and first saw me in that dress, I had just come from a party. There was this man there ... he didn't put his hands on me, but he was verbally abusive." Her voice and body trembled. "He threatened me, saying he'd kill me if I didn't strip. He just wanted to look at me. I was just so ... vulnerable. I was trapped under his gaze."

      I moved closer to her, empathy in my eyes. "That must've been terrifying. No one deserves to feel that way." And if I ever saw that man, I'd kill him.

      She nodded, tears glistening in her eyes. "I've been feeling down ever since that night. I didn't want to let it get in the way of you finding your dog ... or being here with you."

      "Look, I'm glad you're telling me this," I said earnestly. "You don't have to carry that alone. I'm here for you."

      She took a deep breath. "I just didn't want you to see me as weak."

      I shook my head. "Vulnerability isn't weakness. It takes strength to be able to share those feelings. You're so much stronger than you or anyone else realizes."

      She sniffled softly. "Thank you. It's hard to believe that sometimes."

      I offered her a reassuring smile. "I think we all stumble in the dark sometimes. Just remember, it's okay to reach for the light."

      "Got it," she smiled. "Enjoy your shower?" she asked, seeing me grab a towel.

       "Yes," I answered. "I'll see you after so we can talk more."

         ...

         I stepped out of the hot steam that enveloped me, realizing I had forgotten my pants. With a towel wrapped around my waist, I stumbled to a halt in my bedroom, finding Emma standing by my nightstand, lost in thought as she gazed at a picture of my family.

         As I approached her, her fingers lightly traced the frame. "So, this is your family?" she inquired.

I nodded, feeling a lump forming in my throat. "Yes, they are."

She turned to look at me, her eyes brimming with curiosity. I couldn't tell if it was because of my bare, wet chest or the photo of my family. Until she asked, "Tell me, what were they like?"

I took a deep breath, the memories engulfing me like the hot steam from my shower that still lingers in the air. "Grace was a little bundle of joy, always curious and full of laughter. She was the heart of our family. Though her time with us was brief, she left a lasting mark on all of our hearts."

Emma leaned in a little closer, her expression softening. "And what about your wife?"

I glanced at the picture on the nightstand again. It was a bright afternoon in the park, with sunlight filtering through the trees, casting a glow on our joy. We had a picnic, played games, and simply enjoyed each other's company. At one point, we met up with Liam's friend, Rodney, and his family, who suggested we take a family photo to capture the moment. Liam's arm was around Grace, and mine was around Annie. That photo helped me find the words my heart couldn't quite grasp. "Annie had this warmth that made everything feel safe. Her smile could light up an entire room. We spent every birthday together doing the wackiest but most memorable things as a family."

Emma's head bobbed, absorbed by my words. "It sounds like you all had a beautiful bond."

"It was." I felt a faint, nostalgic pang in my chest. "But life... it can change so fast."

"Blake, I'm really sorry for what you've lost," Emma said delicately, her voice filled with genuine sympathy. "I never knew my real parents, so the pain isn't as strong for me as it is for you."

"Just because it's not strong doesn't mean it doesn't hurt any less," I replied.

"Did you really mean what you said earlier? That I'm beautiful?" she asked.

"I don't remember saying, 'beautiful'," I replied with a playful laugh. "I think I said, 'that kind of beauty'."

Adoration adorned her face as she inched closer to me. We were both inside my bedroom, yearning to take the next step. Her eyes locked onto mine, and the air between us sizzled with electric anticipation.

The velvety glow of the lamp on the nightstand emanated gentle shadows, and the hearty smell of her conquered the room. I could feel the warmth of her breath as she whispered my name, sending goosebumps all over.

"I can't stop thinking about you," I said to her. Her eyes softened, and a smile danced on her lips. The warmth of her breath mingled with the scent of her dominating the room, creating an intoxicating blend that made my heart race... and my skin crawl. I felt a deep connection and a dark attraction to her, one that could be explained and one that went beyond words, as if we had known each other in another life.

         "I think about you, too, but I feel like you don't really know me. If you knew who I truly was, you wouldn't accept me," she responded to my confession, staring at my shimmering chest and then deep in my eyes.

      I stared back with a heartfelt smile. "No matter what you tell me or who you really are, it won't change how I feel about you. I care about you deeply, Emma, and nothing will change that."

         ...

      Emma's POV

      The secrets are suffocating me, even in my sleep.

      I'm dragged into nightmares by the demons that haunt me, whispering that I'll hurt them when they change.

      And we're approaching that day quicker than a skinwalker under a full moon.

     I'll watch as their faces contort in pain, their bodies twist in fury, and their eyes roll with the intensity of the transformation.

     They'll shift and end up hating me.

     I was warned not to love them, or I'd lose them.

     They've turned it into a game.

     Now, I have to decide how much I'm willing to sacrifice, how much I was willing to give...