The cursed forest loomed like a monstrous shadow, its trees twisted as though writhing in eternal agony. Their gnarled branches clawed at the dark sky, and the air was heavy with an unnatural stillness that clung to Lyra's skin like damp fog. Every sound seemed amplified—the crunch of her footsteps on brittle leaves, the distant howl of an unseen predator, and the relentless hammering of her own heartbeat.
Lyra trudged forward, her body trembling from exhaustion and hunger. It had been days since she was cast out, though she had lost track of time in the oppressive darkness. The forest seemed alive, its silence broken only by rustling bushes and the occasional snap of a twig, sending her heart into overdrive.
She hadn't eaten since the scraps of bread she'd stuffed in her pocket before leaving the pack, and even those were gone now. Her stomach growled, a sharp, aching reminder of her vulnerability. The cold was worse—biting and unyielding, it seeped into her bones, making her limbs stiff and her thoughts sluggish.
But it wasn't just the physical pain that wore her down. It was the memories.
Darius's cold gaze haunted her, his voice sharp and final as he rejected her. "You're not fit to stand by my side. You are weak." The words echoed in her mind, slicing through her resolve like a blade. She clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms.
"I'm not weak," she whispered into the dark, her voice trembling as much as her body. "I'll prove it. I'll prove it to all of them."
Yet, even as she said the words, doubt gnawed at the edges of her resolve. She was alone, without the protection of the pack, without guidance, without him. How could she survive when every shadow seemed to hold a threat?
The thought was interrupted by a distant howl, low and guttural. It sent a shiver down her spine, her wolf stirring uneasily within her. She wasn't alone, and that realization was far from comforting.
Lyra quickened her pace, her senses on high alert. The forest seemed to close in around her, the trees leaning closer, their twisted forms creating a labyrinth of shadows. The air grew colder, heavier, and each breath felt like inhaling shards of ice.
Suddenly, a rustle behind her froze her in place. Her breath hitched, and she turned her head slowly, every muscle in her body tense.
The underbrush parted, and a pair of glowing red eyes emerged from the darkness. A rogue wolf.
Its massive frame stepped into the moonlight, its fur matted and black as ink. Saliva dripped from its snarling maw, its teeth glinting like daggers. The low growl that rumbled from its throat sent vibrations through the ground beneath her feet.
Panic surged through Lyra's veins, her wolf screaming at her to run, to flee, but her legs felt rooted to the spot. The rogue's growl grew louder, more menacing, and it crouched as though preparing to pounce.
Lyra's breath came in ragged gasps, her heart pounding so loudly she thought it might burst from her chest. The forest seemed to hold its breath, the silence deafening save for the rogue's guttural snarls.
Move, Lyra. Run!
She turned and bolted, the sound of snapping twigs and rustling leaves erupting behind her as the rogue gave chase. Her lungs burned as she sprinted through the forest, the branches clawing at her skin and hair like unseen hands. The rogue's heavy footsteps thundered in her ears, growing closer with each passing second.
She stumbled over a root, her body crashing to the ground with a sharp cry. Pain shot through her ankle as she scrambled to her feet, but it was too late. The rogue was upon her.
Its massive paw swiped at her, catching her shoulder and sending her sprawling back to the ground. The impact knocked the wind out of her, and she gasped for air as the rogue loomed over her, its red eyes gleaming with predatory hunger.
Time seemed to slow as Lyra stared up at the beast. Its growl was deafening, a primal sound that vibrated through her chest. She felt the hot spray of its saliva on her face, its breath reeking of decay.
Is this how it ends? The thought flashed through her mind, sharp and cold. She clenched her fists, her nails digging into the dirt beneath her. She didn't want to die here, not like this.
A strange warmth bloomed in her chest, faint at first but growing stronger, spreading through her body like liquid fire. It was the same feeling she'd felt at the stream, but this time, it was more intense, more urgent.
The rogue lunged, its jaws snapping inches from her face.
"No!" Lyra screamed, the warmth in her chest surging outward in a blinding burst of light.
The rogue yelped, recoiling as the moonlight energy erupted from her body, forming a shimmering barrier between them. The light pulsed, its radiance casting the rogue into stark relief, its matted fur and gleaming teeth suddenly fragile under the celestial glow.
The beast snarled, shaking its head as though trying to dispel the light, but it hesitated. For the first time, Lyra saw something other than bloodlust in its eyes—fear.
She didn't waste the moment. Scrambling to her feet, she turned and ran, the energy still flickering faintly around her like a protective aura. The rogue didn't follow, its growls fading into the distance as she put as much space between them as possible.
When she finally stopped, her legs gave out beneath her, and she collapsed onto the forest floor, her chest heaving as she gasped for air. The light had faded, leaving her in darkness once more.
Her shoulder throbbed where the rogue had struck her, and her ankle ached with every movement. Tears pricked at her eyes, but she refused to let them fall.
"What is happening to me?" she whispered, her voice trembling. The warmth in her chest was gone, replaced by an emptiness that felt almost worse than the fear.
She wrapped her arms around herself, shivering as the cold seeped back in. The forest was silent again, but the encounter had left her rattled.
Lyra's thoughts swirled in a chaotic storm—fear, anger, confusion, and something else she couldn't quite name. The power she'd felt was terrifying and exhilarating all at once, but it left her with more questions than answers.
Was this the reason Darius had rejected her? Did he sense this… strangeness within her? The thought sent a fresh wave of bitterness coursing through her.
She clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms. "I'll survive," she murmured, her voice steeling with determination. "I don't need him. I don't need anyone."
But even as she said the words, the doubt lingered. The forest loomed around her, its shadows pressing in, and for the first time, Lyra truly felt the weight of her isolation.
The rogue's glowing red eyes flashed in her mind, a stark reminder of how close she had come to death. Her heartbeat quickened, the memory of its snarls and the heat of its breath sending chills down her spine.
She took a deep, shaky breath, trying to steady herself. The power she'd unleashed had saved her, but it also terrified her. What if she couldn't control it next time?
Lyra forced herself to her feet, wincing as pain shot through her ankle. She leaned against a nearby tree, her breath coming in shallow gasps.
The forest was quiet again, but the unease lingered. Every shadow felt like a threat, every sound like the approach of another predator.
And yet, despite the fear, despite the pain, a spark of determination burned within her.
"I will survive," she whispered into the darkness, her voice firmer this time. "I will prove them all wrong."
The wind rustled through the trees, carrying her words into the night. Somewhere in the distance, another howl echoed, but this time, Lyra didn't flinch. She straightened, her jaw set, and took a step forward.
The forest was a test, and she would face it head-on.