Chapter 7
The Glitch in the Frame
(Callie’s POV)
The camera doesn’t lie—
but tonight, I wish it would.
The glow from my ring light hits my skin just right, my hair falling perfectly after an hour of curling and “effortless” styling that was anything but. The villa hums behind me—soft jazz, ocean breeze, everything Bacnotania promised in brochures. My glass of rosé sits half-drunk beside the laptop, and I force a practiced smile.
“Hey, moon babies!” I greet, my voice bright, rehearsed. “It’s your girl Callie Veyra, live from the paradise of Bacnotania!”
Hearts explode across the screen.
🌺 “Queen is glowing!”
🐚 “Bacnotania looks insane!”
🌕 “How’s island life, Luna?”
Luna. Again.
That nickname started as a joke months ago. Now, seeing it spammed across the comments sends a strange chill down my spine.
“I’m surviving,” I say with a laugh. “Though I swear this island has its own mood swings. One minute it’s calm, the next, my Wi-Fi’s possessed.”
A wave of laughing emojis fills the feed. I keep talking, babbling about beach cafés and secret coves, all while trying to ignore the unease crawling under my skin. Maybe it’s exhaustion. Maybe it’s… something else.
The last few nights, I’ve been dreaming strange things—moonlight dripping like silver rain, wolves howling in sync, my own reflection moving when I didn’t. But I don’t tell them that. They follow me for escapism, not for honesty.
“Okay, let’s see your comments,” I say, reading them off. “What do you guys want to see next? More underwater reels? Night market tour? Spa day?”
Then it happens.
The chat goes wild.
🚨 “OMG what’s behind you?”
👀 “Girl there’s someone in the mirror!”
😨 “Did y’all see that???”
I freeze.
Behind me, on the vanity mirror, something flickers—a shape, faint but there. For a split second, I swear I see silver eyes staring through the reflection. Not human. Not right.
The room feels colder.
My heart slams against my ribs, but my influencer instincts kick in. Smile. Stay charming. Pretend.
“Haha! Guys, chill!” I wave it off, laughing too loudly. “That’s just my shadow! Or maybe Bacnotania’s ghosts trying to collab?”
The chat explodes with more comments.
🔥 “That was not a shadow!”
🌙 “Replay 0:23—IT MOVED.”
🐺 “Luna, that looked like a WOLF.”
I turn slowly, my laughter faltering. The mirror’s empty now. No figure. No eyes. Just me—Callie Veyra, queen of filters, pretending not to shake.
I end the stream quickly, muttering some excuse about connection issues, then collapse onto the bed, my hands trembling.
Silence. Except… there isn’t.
Somewhere outside, I hear a faint sound—a low growl, muffled by the wind.
I get up, walk to the balcony. The sea is a dark sheet of glass, the horizon swallowed by clouds. The wind tastes sharp, metallic.
Then—footsteps. Soft, measured.
I spin around. “Who’s there?”
Nothing. Just the curtains swaying like ghosts.
“Get a grip, Callie,” I whisper to myself. “It’s a villa, not a horror film.”
My phone buzzes.
A message. No name, no photo. Just a handle: LUNABORN
> “You shouldn’t be here, Luna.”
I blink, reread it.
What the hell—
Before I can reply, the lights flicker. The power cuts out. Darkness swallows everything, leaving me face-to-face with my own reflection in the glass door—only it’s smiling back when I’m not.
I stumble backward, heart racing. “No. No. No—”
“Callie?”
The voice is low, rough, familiar. Kael.
He’s standing at the door, half-shadowed, eyes gleaming faintly in the dark.
“How did you—?”
“I saw your livestream,” he says, stepping closer. His voice vibrates with authority, the kind that feels like command and warning all at once. “Something was in that room with you.”
“I didn’t see anything—”
“Yes, you did.”
The air shifts. He’s close enough that I can smell him—cedar, smoke, danger. My pulse trips. “You can’t just barge in here!”
“I told you not to stay alone in this villa,” he growls, his jaw tight. “This place… it wakes things.”
I shove past him, anger blooming to mask the fear. “You sound insane, Kael. ‘Wakes things’? What are you even talking about?”
His hand catches my wrist before I can move farther. “Callie, stop pretending.”
There’s something in his voice—pleading, desperate. His thumb brushes my pulse. I don’t pull away.
“I saw your eyes on the livestream,” he says, voice softening. “For a moment, they weren’t brown. They were silver.”
My breath catches. “You’re imagining things.”
“Am I?” His tone lowers to a whisper, as if confessing to the dark. “Or are you finally seeing what’s been waiting inside you all along?”
I yank my hand free, refusing to let the heat in my chest win. “You’re crazy.”
“Maybe,” he says, taking a step closer. “But I’m the only one who can keep you alive.”
The lights flicker back on.
The mirror on the wall—cracked. Thin lines running like spiderwebs across the glass. And in the center of the break, faint and glowing—two silver fingerprints.
I stare, frozen.
Kael follows my gaze, his expression darkening. “It’s starting,” he murmurs.
“What is?” I whisper.
He looks at me—eyes storm-gray, filled with something both dangerous and unspoken. “Your awakening.”
Before I can speak, the window bursts open, the wind howling like an animal’s cry. The power dies again. The room goes black.
Somewhere in the dark, something growls—low, hungry, real.
Kael steps in front of me, body tense. “Stay behind me, Callie.”
I want to scream, to run, but I can’t. Because part of me—deep inside—recognizes that sound.
It’s the same one from my dreams.
The one calling my name.
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