The wards hummed through the night.
I didn't notice it at first, not consciously. It was more like a feeling, a low vibration beneath my skin that made it impossible to relax. The symbols carved into the walls of the small structure glowed faintly, not bright enough to light the room, but enough to remind me they were there for a reason.
To keep something out.
Or to keep something in.
I sat on the narrow bed with my knees pulled to my chest, staring at the door. Lyric had left hours ago, promising to return before dawn. She hadn't said goodbye. That felt intentional.
The boy's last words echoed in my head.
Gold. In the dark. Watching.
I pressed my palms against my eyes, breathing slowly, deliberately. I wasn't gold. I wasn't glowing. I wasn't anything special.
That was what I told myself.
The wards pulsed again, stronger this time, and a sharp ache bloomed behind my ribs. I gasped softly, clutching at my chest. The sensation wasn't pain, not exactly. It was pressure. Like something inside me was stretching, testing its limits.
Stop, I thought. Whatever this is, stop.
The humming faded, leaving the room heavy and still.
I didn't sleep.
When morning came, it brought no comfort. The sky was the same dull gray it always was, clouds hanging low and unmoving. I stepped outside cautiously, half-expecting the forest to surge forward and swallow me whole.
It didn't.
Instead, I found Kael waiting.
He stood a few feet away, his posture rigid, eyes dark and unreadable. He looked like he hadn't slept either. There was a new tension in him.sharper, tighter, like he was holding himself back from something violent.
"We need to talk," he said.
"I thought we already were," I replied.
"Not like this."
He gestured for me to follow, turning without waiting to see if I would. I did.
We walked along the edge of the clearing, the forest looming to our right. The closer we got, the stronger that familiar pull became, humming beneath my skin like a second heartbeat.
"You moved the line," Kael said abruptly.
"I didn't touch anything."
"You came back," he said. "You stayed. You saw what you weren't supposed to see."
I stopped walking. "People are dying."
"Yes."
"And you expected me to pretend I didn't notice?"
He turned to face me. "I expected you to survive."
Something in his tone, raw, almost strained, made my chest tighten.
"The thing hunting," he continued, "feeds on awareness. Curiosity. Fear. Every time you push closer, it responds."
"Then why doesn't it just kill me?" I asked.
Kael hesitated.
That told me enough.
"Because it can't," I said slowly. "Or because it doesn't want to."
His jaw clenched. "Because it's deciding."
The forest shifted beside us. A branch creaked. Leaves rustled without wind.
"I don't want to be locked away," I said quietly.
"You already are," Kael replied. "You just don't feel the bars yet."
That afternoon, the pack sent scouts deeper into the woods.
Against Kael's orders, I followed at a distance. I stayed far enough back that no one noticed me, or maybe they noticed and chose not to stop me. Either way, I kept moving.
The forest felt different during the day. Less threatening. Almost ordinary.
That was the worst part.
We found signs quickly. Too quickly.
More tracks. Deeper than before. Paired with something else drag marks, long and uneven. Whatever had moved through here hadn't rushed. It had taken its time.
I crouched near a tree where the bark had been stripped away, gouged by something sharp and deliberate. Symbols had been carved into the exposed wood.
Not pack markings.
Older.
My breath caught.
I had seen these before.
In my grandmother's books.
"Elara."
Kael's voice snapped through my thoughts. He was standing a few feet away, his expression hard.
"You shouldn't be here," he said.
"I know these symbols," I replied. "They're not warnings. They're invitations."
The forest responded with a low, distant sound too deep to be an animal call.
Kael grabbed my arm. "We're leaving."
We didn't make it far.
The air shifted suddenly, thick and charged. The scouts froze, weapons raised. The forest went unnaturally still.
Then something moved.
Fast.
A blur tore through the trees, striking one of the scouts and hurling him into a trunk with bone-crushing force. Shouts erupted. Steel flashed. The ground shook beneath my feet.
Kael shoved me back. "Run."
I didn't.
I couldn't.
The thing emerged from the shadows not fully seen, not fully hidden. Tall. Wrong. Its eyes glinted in the dim light, reflecting something unmistakably gold.
It tilted its head.
Watching me.
The pressure in my chest exploded.
I cried out, dropping to my knees as heat surged through my veins. My vision blurred, the world warping at the edges. The forest roared, sound crashing over me in waves.
"Elara!" Kael shouted.
I barely heard him.
Something inside me pushed back.
The ground beneath me cracked, splintering outward. The wards I didn't even know were there flared to life, light bursting from my skin in jagged pulses.
The thing recoiled.
Just a step.
But that was enough.
Kael lunged, driving it back with a force that sent it vanishing into the trees. The forest shuddered, then went still once more.
Silence fell.
Kael knelt beside me, gripping my shoulders. "What did you do?"
I was shaking, breath coming in ragged gasps. "I don't know."
But part of me did.
Back at the pack house, no one spoke to me.
They watched.
Whispered.
Measured.
That night, Kael stood in my doorway, his expression grim.
"The line didn't just move," he said. "It shattered."
I swallowed. "What does that mean?"
"It means the forest isn't just hunting anymore," he replied. "It's responding."
"To me."
"Yes."
Fear curled deep in my stomach but beneath it, something else stirred.
Resolve.
"I'm not leaving," I said.
Kael's gaze held mine. "Then you need to learn what you are."
Outside, the forest waited.
And for the first time, I knew it wasn't just watching.
It was preparing.