FORBIDDEN RUIN

Morning came gray and cold.

Selene had barely slept after the nightmare. When she did, she dreamed only of chains clanking in the dark and golden eyes watching her, patient as death.

She woke to the sound of Mira stirring the hearth fire.

“Get up, girl,” the old healer grunted. “We need feverfew and nettle. The pups had coughs again.”

Selene blinked through the haze from her eyes. Her limbs felt heavy, but she swung her feet off the cot and forced herself up. She shrugged on her heavy cloak and laced her boots while Mira clattered in the small kitchen.

The older woman gave her a sharp look. “Don’t wander.”

“I won’t,” Selene lied.

---

Outside, the wind had died, leaving the forest hushed. The settlement was barely awake. Thin lines of smoke curled from a few chimneys. Wolves in human form patrolled the edge, silent guards whose eyes flashed with suspicion even at their own kin.

Crescent Vale was peaceful in theory. In truth, it felt like a fortress.

Selene trudged toward the tree line, basket over one arm. She forced herself to breathe slowly, repeating old calming exercises. She was here to gather herbs, nothing more.

But something tugged at her chest like a leash.

MATE.

The word scraped across her thoughts.

She shook her head violently. No. She’d promised Mira. She wouldn’t go near that place again.

But her feet knew the path.

---

At first, she tried to avoid it, picking along the usual safe routes. She gathered nettle with gloves, snipped stems of feverfew, and tucked them neatly away. The forest was beautiful in the pale light: trunks slick with dew, moss glinting like emeralds. Birds cries overhead above the sky.

Normal. Harmless.

But the wind changed.

And she smelled it again.

Wild. Warm. The memory of fur. The crack of chains.

She turned before she could stop herself, heart thundering.

And there almost hidden among the trees stood the old path.

It was overgrown, nearly choked with brambles. Most of the pack wouldn’t even see it anymore. But she did.

Selene’s breath caught.

Don’t answer it. Mira’s warning rang in her ears.

But she took a step forward.

---

The forest swallowed her.

The path twisted, old stones poking through the earth like bones. Every footfall was muffled by thick, rotting leaves. She walked quickly at first, telling herself she’d just check. Just see it from a distance.

But the ruin called.

She felt its presence, like a giant holding its breath.

When she broke through the last screen of trees, she froze.

It lay in a small clearing, bathed in an uncanny shaft of sun that pierced the clouds. The stone platform was cracked and blackened, runes weathered to near-obscurity. Moss and vines crawled across it.

But the chains were real.

Huge links, iron turned reddish-brown with old blood. She counted six of them, each riveted into the stone.

And they were broken.

Selene gasped.

Last time she was here—weeks ago—they were whole. She remembered them clearly, each one tight and humming with old magic.

Now, they dangled limply.

Something was here.

Something that wasn’t here anymore.

---

She felt bile rise in her throat.

The forest seemed to lean in, listening.

She backed away, heart racing.

That’s when she saw the paw prints.

Enormous. Clawed.

They were sunk deep into the mud around the platform, circling it in mad loops. As if something had paced and raged.

Then leading away.

Selene’s knees wobbled.

It’s real. Gods, it’s real.

You freed it.

---

A low growl vibrated in her skull.

She clamped both hands over her ears, but it wasn’t sound. It was inside her.

“Selene.”

The voice was richer this time. Almost gentle. But it held teeth.

She spun, eyes scanning the trees wildly.

Nothing.

But she felt it.

Watching.

Hunting.

---

She ran.

Her basket banged against her hip. Branches tore at her cloak. She didn’t care. She sprinted down the path she’d so stupidly followed, heart slamming in her chest like it would burst.

Roots tried to trip her. Shadows reached for her.

But she didn’t stop until she crashed out of the trees onto the wider pack trail.

There, she collapsed to her knees, panting.

Silence fell again.

Except for the whisper in her mind:

“MATE.”

She whimpered and shook her head.

---

Eventually, she forced herself upright. She wiped her face with shaking hands. She checked her basket, herbs scattered and crushed.

No matter. She’d lie to Mira. Say she fell.

But she had to go back.

She stumbled toward the village, forcing one foot in front of the other.

Halfway back, she met Mira on the trail. The old healer’s eyes narrowed instantly.

“You look pale as a corpse,” she snapped.

“I—I fell.” Selene’s voice cracked.

Mira grabbed her wrist. “You went there.”

Selene’s eyes filled with tears.

“Don’t lie to me.”

Selene’s shoulders slumped.

Mira’s face tightened with fear and anger. “Foolish girl! The ruin’s protections are old. Weak. Something was bound there for a reason!”

Selene wiped her nose on her sleeve. “The chains were broken. It’s not there anymore.”

Mira recoiled as if slapped.

“Broken?” Her voice was hoarse.

Selene nodded miserably.

Mira closed her eyes. Her lips moved in prayer.

Finally she opened them, old and tired. “You need to prepare. Tonight we ward the cottage. And you do not leave it. Do you hear me?”

Selene nodded, fresh tears falling.

Mira squeezed her arm roughly. “You don’t understand what you’ve done.”

Selene couldn’t argue.

Because deep inside, under the fear, something trembled in anticipation.

A thread tied tight.

A voice that purred:

“Soon.”

---

Far away, in the deepening forest, golden eyes opened.

Chains lay shattered at its feet.

It sniffed the air, catching her scent.

And it smiled.