The trees whispered her name before she crossed the boundary.
"Elara…"
Not in words, but in the creak of the bark. The rustle of leaves. The thud of unseen paws pacing just out of sight. She had always known the Shadowlands were alive—but tonight, they were hungry.
Her breath fogged in the cold air. Elder Mirra had left her at the stone altar, just like the others before her. No goodbyes. No blessings. Only silence, and the sound of a horn in the distance, signaling that the Hunt had begun.
She wasn't meant to survive. None of the girls did.
Elara stepped beyond the altar, into the forbidden woods.
The ground was soft, and the deeper she went, the darker it grew. Not just from the trees above—but from something older, something watching. Her Mark throbbed beneath her skin, hot and glowing faintly through her thin shirt. She winced, gripping her side.
"Stop it," she whispered. "Not now."
The air shifted. Behind her, a branch cracked.
She spun.
Nothing.
Then—a growl. Low. Deep. Dangerous.
Not human.
Not fully.
A shadow moved between the trees. Massive. Silent. Eyes gleaming silver.
Elara froze.
An Alpha.
Her legs trembled, instinct screaming at her to run, but the Mark pulsed again—and for a moment, everything stopped. Even the growl.
The creature stepped into the moonlight.
Not a beast.
Not yet a man.
Something between. Taller than any man she had ever seen, with a bare chest streaked in dark blood, claws half-formed, face shifting between wolf and human. He was beautiful and terrifying and furious.
"You smell like moonfire," he said, voice gravel and heat. "And death."
Elara swallowed hard. "Then stay away."
He laughed. A cruel, amused sound. "You walk into my forest, little flame, and give orders?"
She didn't move. "Are you going to kill me?"
He stepped closer. "Not yet."
And then—he disappeared.
Not vanished. Moved. Faster than her eyes could track.
His hand slammed into the tree beside her head, claws piercing bark.
"I don't know what you are," he growled against her throat, "but you're not just a sacrifice. You're something else. Something dangerous."
Elara didn't flinch. Her Mark flared. "So are you."
For a moment, they just breathed. Him, wild and boiling. Her, trembling and defiant.
Then he pulled away, eyes dark.
"Run, girl. Run while you still can. Before the others find you."
"The others?"
He smiled, sharp and knowing. "There are three of us. And only one will win you."
He vanished into the woods.
The ground shook.
The Hunt had begun.