The fire in our hearth had burned down to embers, casting only the faintest glow across the wooden floorboards. Outside, the night pressed in like a held breath, heavy and unmoving. I hadn’t expected him to co.
But I felt him before he knocked.
The door creaked open, and there he stood. Darius. Still wearing yesterday’s shirt, dust clinging to his boots, jaw set with sothing deeper than anger or pain—fear.
I didn’t speak.
Neither did he, not at first. He just looked at , like he was counting every breath I took, every beat of my heart, desperate to morize before the world took away.
Then, finally, he stepped inside.
"I had a dream," he said, voice low.
I looked up from where I sat, lacing the last strap on my pack. "What did you see?"
He closed the door behind him. "The Vale. Or sothing close to it. Black vines that moved like snakes. Eyes in the trees. Screams from underground."
I nodded once. "You saw what waits for ."
He crossed the room, kneeling in front of . His hands gripped mine, rough and warm. "Luciana, don’t go."
I smiled softly, but my chest ached. "Darius..."
"I’m not trying to stop you because I’m afraid of prophecy," he said. "I’m trying to stop you because I know what *lives* in the Vale. Wolves go missing there. Legends say creatures crawl beneath its roots—things that don’t fear moon or magic. So say they feed on our kind."
"I know."
He shook his head. "No. You *think* you do. But I’ve spoken to wanderers, rogues, even an old seer once. They all said the sa thing—*no one returns unchanged*. And most don’t return at all."
I rested my hand against his cheek. "That’s why I must go. Because sothing evil *is* growing there. If I don’t face it, we’ll be the ones who disappear—our daughter, this land, everyone."
He closed his eyes for a long mont, and when he opened them again, they were glassy. "Let co with you. Just halfway. Just to the border."
I exhaled, torn. "You know that’s not how this works."
"Screw what the prophecy says."
"You said that last ti."
"And I ant it."
I stood, and he rose with , close enough that I could hear his heartbeat, fast and uneven. "If you follow ," I said gently, "you might curse the path. You might bring the darkness with you. I can’t take that risk."
He stared at . "And what if *you* don’t co back?"
I reached up, fingers brushing his jaw. "Then you raise Erya to be stronger than ."
"No." His voice broke. "Don’t talk like that."
"Then believe I will return."
His hands gripped my waist, pulling close. "I already lost you once—when you left Thornridge. You ca back, yes, but you were changed. Harder. Wilder. The forest took a piece of you then. What if the Vale takes everything this ti?"
I smiled through the tears forming in my eyes. "Then rember like this. Standing here, not running, not afraid."
"Don’t lie. You are afraid."
I nodded. "Terrified."
He kissed then—deep and desperate and slow, like he could buy ti with every second our lips t. I tasted salt between us, and I didn’t know if it was from my tears or his.
When we parted, I held his face in both hands.
"Fate’s already at my door, Darius. I can hear it knocking."
He stared into , searching, begging. "Then let walk with you. Just until dawn."
I nodded.
---
We left the house in silence, the moon still high above the trees, stars scattered across the ink-black sky like shards of glass. The forest was quiet—too quiet, as if the world itself was waiting.
Darius didn’t speak again until we reached the edge of the glade, where the trees thickened and the air grew colder.
"This is where the path splits," I said.
He looked out into the forest, then back at . "I hate this."
"I know."
He reached into his pocket again and pulled out a small carved token—a wolf’s head etched from bone. "Take this. It’s old. My father gave it to when I first shifted."
I ran my thumb over it. "Thank you."
"Don’t thank . Just co back."
I looked up at him, heart pounding. "You’ve been the best part of this journey, Darius. But this part... I walk alone."
He nodded, then took a slow step back. "Then walk well, Luna."
At that, I turned, slinging the pack over my shoulder, and stepped into the trees.
---
The forest swallowed quickly. The further I walked, the heavier the air beca. Even the moonlight struggled to pierce the thick canopy above. Each step was a promise, each breath a vow I couldn’t unmake.
Behind , I knew Darius watched. I didn’t look back.
Not because I didn’t want to—but because I had to believe this path needed certainty, not regret.
The trees whispered above . Not words, not quite—but sound. Breaths. Echoes of sothing older than my blood, older than wolves and wars and shattered lands.
This was the Vale’s mouth, and I had just stepped inside.
And still, my legs moved.
---
It wasn’t long before the path vanished.
There were no markers, no roads—only instinct. Only the pull of sothing deep and ancient threading through my bones. The land itself seed to hum, like a heartbeat rising from the roots below.
Sowhere ahead, I knew the trials waited.
Sowhere ahead, fate would show what it truly wanted.
But I would not flinch.
Because even if I never returned—this was the choice I made when I first opened my eyes in Thornridge, when I first shifted beneath the moon, when I chose to lead not as a Luna, but as a woman of fire and howl and heart.
The forest began to shift.
A low growl echoed in the distance.
I clutched the token Darius gave , held it close to my chest.
And I walked deeper, into the unknown.
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