Elias remained in the cave for several days, recovering under Lyria's care. Though she remained distant, speaking little, he could feel the silent bond growing between them. Every night, she disappeared into the forest, and every morning, she returned with food and fresh bandages for his wounds.

But Elias was not just healing physically—he was changing. He no longer feared the forest. Instead, he listened to it, feeling its pulse, sensing the life moving unseen in the shadows. And through it all, Lyria was there, watching him with those golden eyes that held secrets of centuries past.

One evening, as the moon rose full and bright above the trees, Elias found her sitting by the river that ran near the cave. Her bare feet rested in the water, her silver hair cascading down her back like moonlight made flesh. She did not turn as he approached.

"You don't have to keep avoiding me," he said, sitting beside her.

"I am not avoiding you," she replied softly. "I am protecting you."

Elias frowned. "Protecting me from what?"

She hesitated, then met his gaze. "From myself."

The words sent a shiver down his spine. He studied her carefully, the way her fingers traced patterns in the water, as if lost in thought.

"You don't want me to stay," he said at last.

Lyria's eyes darkened. "It is not about what I want, Elias. It is about what must be."

A heavy silence settled between them. Elias had always believed in logic, in reason, in finding answers in books and stories. But nothing in his past had prepared him for this—a woman who was not fully human, a connection that felt deeper than anything he had ever known.

"Then tell me," he said. "Tell me why this is so impossible."

Lyria exhaled, the sound almost pained. "Because I have seen this before. A man who fell in love with something he could not understand. A love that burned too brightly, too fiercely, until it destroyed them both."

Elias stiffened. "Who was he?"

She looked away. "Someone I cared for. A long time ago."

A sharp ache settled in Elias's chest. He didn't know why the thought of Lyria loving another man unsettled him so much, but it did.

"Did you love him?" he asked.

She smiled, but it was sad, almost bitter. "It does not matter now. He is gone, and I am still here. Cursed to watch the world change while I remain the same."

Elias clenched his fists. "But you don't have to be alone."

Lyria turned to him then, her golden eyes shining with something raw and unspoken. For a fleeting moment, Elias thought she might say something—something that could shatter the fragile barrier between them.

But before she could speak, a distant sound shattered the quiet of the forest.

A howl.

Not the cry of a wolf—but of men.

Lyria tensed, her body going rigid. Elias stood, his heart pounding.

"They're coming," she whispered.

And then, like a shadow dissolving into the night, she was gone.

---

The Hunt Begins

Elias ran through the trees, his instincts screaming at him to move faster. He had seen the torches, heard the voices. The hunters from Eldermere had come, just as Lyria had feared.

Panic surged through him. He had to find her before they did.

The forest was alive with movement—men crashing through the undergrowth, their shouts echoing in the night. Elias's pulse thundered in his ears as he weaved through the trees, his body still weak from his wounds but fueled by something more powerful than pain—desperation.

Then he saw her.

Lyria stood at the heart of a moonlit clearing, her silver hair flowing behind her, her golden eyes locked onto the approaching men. She did not run. She did not hide.

Elias burst into the clearing, panting. "Lyria! You have to go!"

She did not move. Instead, she turned to him, her expression unreadable. "They will not stop."

He grabbed her arm, his grip firm. "Then let's run!"

But before she could answer, the hunters arrived.

A dozen men, armed with bows and spears, surrounded the clearing. Their leader—a burly man with a scar running down his cheek—stepped forward, his eyes narrowing at the sight of Elias standing beside the wolf-woman.

"So the rumors were true," the man sneered. "The Moonbound Witch has bewitched one of our own."

Elias's chest tightened. "She's not what you think she is."

The hunter laughed. "Oh? And what would you call a creature that walks as a woman and hunts as a beast?"

Lyria's muscles tensed, but she did not move. She was waiting. Watching.

The hunter raised his bow. "It does not matter. She dies tonight."

Elias moved without thinking. He stepped between Lyria and the hunters, arms outstretched. "No!"

The hunter's eyes flickered with surprise. "Move, boy."

"No." Elias's voice was steady, stronger than he felt. "If you want to kill her, you'll have to kill me too."

The hunters hesitated. Whispers passed between them.

The leader's expression twisted with disgust. "She has cursed you, hasn't she? You're no longer one of us."

Elias clenched his fists. "I was never one of you."

The hunter raised his bow, aiming directly at Elias's heart.

For the first time, fear crept into Lyria's golden eyes. "Elias, move."

He didn't.

Then, everything happened at once.

The arrow flew.

Lyria lunged.

A blinding light exploded from her body, and suddenly, she was no longer human.

The great silver wolf crashed into Elias, knocking him to the ground just as the arrow whizzed past his head. Snarls erupted around them as chaos consumed the clearing.

Elias rolled onto his side, coughing, his vision spinning. Through the haze, he saw Lyria—no longer a woman, but the beast she had always been—standing over him protectively, her fur bristling, her fangs bared.

The hunters hesitated, fear flickering in their eyes.

But the leader did not back down. He nocked another arrow, aiming directly at the wolf's heart.

Elias's blood ran cold.

And then, something inside him snapped.

A growl rumbled deep in his chest—one that did not belong to any man.

Heat surged through his veins, his vision sharpening, his muscles tightening. He felt something ancient awaken within him.

And as the moonlight bathed him, Elias realized the truth.

He was changing.