Lucian:
The woods felt wrong.
Every step deeper into the trees made my skin crawl beneath my armor, the curse mark burning like a brand against my collarbone. The path twisted in ways that defied nature—branches arching like ribs, the moonlight bleeding through in jagged slashes. There was no scent trail, no bird calls, just stillness like the forest itself was holding its breath.
She walked ahead of me, silent, shoulders tense under her cloak.
Ari.
Witch.
The bond between us tugged like a snare. Every time I tried to pull away, it pulled harder. The mark flared hotter. I told myself I didn’t care what secrets she had left to dig up in this ruin. But I followed anyway.
Because something in me needed answers more than it needed pride.
The ruin loomed at the heart of the woods—a shattered circle of stone and ivy soaked in old magic. Wards I couldn’t read prickled against my senses. My wolf bristled.
“She’s in there,” Ari murmured. Her voice was hoarse like she didn’t want to say it alo
