The Forest Encounter

The cottage was too quiet.

Nyra slept soundly, her breathing soft in the dark. The fire had gone out hours ago, but Selene couldn’t sleep. She lay awake, her blanket tangled around her legs, her skin burning like fire was trapped beneath it.

She turned over. Then again. Curled up. Stretched out. Nothing helped.

Her body wouldn’t calm down.

It wasn’t the air. Or the bed.

It was him.

She saw his golden eyes whenever she closed hers. She heard his voice in her head: Not yet.

Selene pressed her wrist to her chest. He had grabbed her there during the ritual. There was no bruise, but she could still feel the heat of his hand like it was burned into her skin.

Her breath shook.

She hated how her body reacted  the restless ache, the heat crawling lower. Shame burned through her. She tried to fight it, pressing her thighs together, whispering, “No,” into the dark.

Nyra moved in her sleep, mumbling. Selene froze until her cousin settled again. Then she lay back down, staring at the ceiling. The heat didn’t fade. It only grew.

Every time she moved, she remembered him — his bare chest streaked with blood, the way he trapped her without even touching her, his mouth close enough to kiss her but never doing it.

She bit her fist to stop the sound that wanted to escape her throat.

She should have been afraid. She was afraid. But her body betrayed her.

She wanted something she shouldn’t.

“Selene?”

Her cousin’s voice made her jump. Selene sat up quickly, pulling the blanket over her.

Nyra rubbed her eyes and looked at her, sharp even half-awake. “You’re not asleep.”

Selene forced her breathing to slow. “Neither are you.”

Nyra’s eyes flicked to her wrist. “You’re restless,” she said quietly. “Like our mothers were.”

Selene froze. “Don’t.”

“You’ve been burning since the Ritual,” Nyra went on. “I can feel it.”

“It’s nothing.”

“It’s him.”

The silence between them was heavy.

Nyra leaned closer. “He marked you without claiming you. That’s the curse. It hides in your blood until you can’t tell if what you feel is fear or want.”

Selene wanted to deny it, but the ache in her body made lying useless.

Nyra grabbed her hand. “Listen. If you give in, you’ll be bound. You’ll carry the goddess’s prophecy like the others. And you’ll die for it.”

Selene’s chest tightened. Carry the prophecy. The words stuck in her mind like a thorn.

“Maybe I don’t get to choose,” she whispered.

Nyra’s eyes glistened. “Then fight harder. Once he claims you, there’s no going back.”

Dawn came gray and cold.

Selene couldn’t stay inside. She slipped from her cot and left quietly, pulling her cloak tight around her shoulders. The air outside was still. Mist curled around her feet as she walked toward the forest.

The woods were dark and quiet, the trees tall and wet with dew. She breathed deep, letting the cool air calm her. For a moment, she felt free.

Then everything went silent.

No birds. No rustling leaves.

The forest held its breath.

Selene froze.

Something moved through the mist large and silent.

A wolf stepped out. Its fur was black as night, its eyes glowing gold.

Selene’s back hit a tree. Her hands clawed at the bark. “No…” she whispered.

The wolf walked closer, slow and sure. Its paws barely made a sound, but Selene could feel each step in her chest.

The mist shifted and the wolf changed. Its body stretched and twisted until a man stood there.

Dorian Veyrath.

Bare chest. Bare feet. Cloak around his shoulders. The same golden eyes, hot and dangerous.

Selene’s heart pounded.

He circled her slowly, close enough that she could feel his warmth.

“You came into the woods alone,” he said, voice low. “Brave or foolish?”

“Leave me,” Selene said, trying to sound strong.

Dorian stepped closer, placing one hand against the tree beside her head. His scent filled the air smoke, iron, something wild.

“You don’t want me to leave.”

Her knees shook. “I’ll never be yours.”

His smile was slow and sharp. “Not yet.”

He leaned closer, caging her between his arm and the tree. His heat rolled over her. She couldn’t breathe right.

“You hate me,” he said softly, his breath brushing her cheek. “But your body doesn’t.”

“You’re wrong.”

“Am I?”

He moved closer until his chest brushed hers. Her heart raced in answer.

“I won’t be your Luna,” she said.

“You already are,” he murmured. “You just don’t know it yet.”

Her knees trembled. His face lowered, his lips almost touching hers. She froze, breath caught, waiting wanting hating herself for it.

But he didn’t kiss her.

He stopped just before, his breath mixing with hers, golden eyes watching her struggle. Then he smiled.

“You’ll beg me for this,” he whispered. “Soon.”

Selene’s heart jumped. Anger and shame burned in her chest.

He stepped back, the mist swallowing him. Only his eyes remained, glowing like pieces of the moon.

“I’ll never beg,” she said.

He smirked. “Not to me, little wolf. To yourself.”

Then he was gone.