The forest had never felt quite like this before.

Ivy Reece Tauria had spent most of her life in the town of Ravenshade, where the trees whispered in the wind and the shadows danced just a little too long.

She had wandered these woods since she was a child, yet today, they felt different. Heavier. As if the air itself was thick with something unseen.

She shouldn't have been out here alone. Her mother had always warned her about the deep woods. There were stories ones about things lurking where the light couldn't reach. But Ivy had never been one to listen to old wives' tales. And besides, the feeling in her gut wasn't fear.

It was curiosity.

Something had drawn her here, an invisible pull guiding her feet along the overgrown path. She stepped carefully, boots sinking slightly into damp earth, the scent of pine and moss filling her senses. The deeper she walked, the quieter the world became.

No birds.

No rustling leaves.

Only the sound of her own breathing. And then, she saw it.

Not the door.

Not yet.

A cat.

A sleek black feline perched on a fallen tree, its emerald eyes fixed on her with an intensity that sent a shiver down her spine.

Ivy knew this cat. She had seen it around Ravenshade for years, always lurking in the alleyways, watching from the rooftops. It never acted like an ordinary stray too elusive, too aware. It had always seemed... more.

And now, here it was. Waiting for her.

"You again," Ivy muttered under her breath, narrowing her eyes. "You're not normal, are you?" The cat blinked slowly, as if unimpressed. Then, without a sound, it leapt down and padded away into the trees.

Ivy hesitated only for a second before following. She had tried before to catch it, to uncover the truth, but it always slipped away. Not this time. Not when the air itself buzzed with an unspoken promise that she was close...so close to something big.

She moved swiftly, weaving between the trunks, her heart hammering with anticipation. The cat's dark form darted ahead, never too far, as if it wanted her to follow. The deeper they went, the thicker the air became, like the forest itself was holding its breath.

Then she saw it.

A door.

It stood alone in the middle of a small clearing, wrapped in tangled briars and jagged thorns. There was no wall, no building just the door, as if it had been plucked from its proper place and left here to be forgotten.

The wood was dark, almost black, its surface etched with symbols Ivy didn't recognize. Vines twisted around the frame like skeletal fingers, and the longer she stared, the more wrong it felt. The cat sat beside it, tail curled neatly around its paws, watching her expectantly.

Her fingers curled instinctively around the ring she had worn since childhood a simple silver band with faint carvings along the edge. It had always been a mystery, something her parents never explained. It never came off, no matter how hard she tried, almost as if it had been made just for her.

She took a hesitant step closer, drawn forward despite every logical voice in her head screaming to turn back.

The wind shifted.

A whisper brushed against her skin.

Come through.

Ivy's breath hitched.

The voice wasn't hers. It wasn't even spoken aloud. It was in her head, wrapping around her thoughts like ivy creeping up an old stone wall. She took another step, heart pounding against her ribs. The air around the door seemed heavier now, charged with something she couldn't name. Then, as if answering her unspoken question, the door creaked open.

Darkness.

Endless and unyielding.

A swirling void of violet mist churned beyond the threshold, as if reality itself had unraveled. The world around her seemed to tilt, and a sudden gust of wind rushed past, making the trees groan in protest. Her fingers clenched the silver ring again, and for the first time in her life, she felt it shift.

Pain lanced through her hand. Ivy gasped, pulling her fingers away.

The ring was glowing. A soft, pulsing light, like embers buried deep in a dying fire. Heat spread from the metal, racing up her arm, making her skin tingle.

She stumbled back, her mind caught between the impossible sight before her and the impossible sensation coursing through her veins.

The forest held its breath. And then, something moved inside the doorway.

A shape, barely visible through the swirling mist. It was small no larger than a cat but its presence sent an unnatural chill down Ivy's spine. She couldn't see its face, couldn't even tell if it had one. But she knew, somehow, that it was staring at her.

Watching.

Waiting.

Her instincts screamed at her to run, but her feet remained rooted to the ground.

The glow from her ring pulsed faster, the light reflecting in the endless dark of the open door. Ivy's chest rose and fell with shallow breaths.

Her mind raced, searching for an explanation, a reason, anything that would make sense of this.

Then the shape moved closer.

The whisper returned, curling through her mind like smoke.

You are not ready.

A force slammed into her chest.

Ivy was thrown backward, her body crashing against the cold forest floor. The wind was knocked from her lungs, and for a moment, she could only lie there, gasping. Her vision blurred. 

The sky above swayed. And when she looked back toward the clearing.

The door was gone.

No briars.

No thorns.

No swirling mist.

Just empty space, as if it had never been there at all.

Her ring was cool again. The glow had vanished, leaving nothing but the smooth silver band against her trembling fingers. Her pulse thundered in her ears as she pushed herself up, glancing around wildly. The forest was silent, the air still thick with an eerie tension.

Had she imagined it?

No. The ache in her hand was too real. The memory of that presence, of that whisper it was burned into her mind.

Something had happened here.

And she had a feeling this was only the beginning.