Beneath the Bloodwood

Seren’s POV

The Bloodwood never slept.

Even in the dark hours before dawn, the forest pulsed faintly — roots whispering beneath the soil, sap glowing red as if carrying the last heartbeat of something divine.

Seren sat with her back against the stone wall of the hollow, eyes half-closed, listening. The sound wasn’t wind; it was breath. The entire forest exhaled and inhaled around them, alive in ways no living thing should be.

Across the narrow chamber, Theron stirred in his chains. The faint light from the bleeding roots caught in his hair, turning it copper-red. “You’re awake again,” he said hoarsely.

“I never really sleep,” Seren murmured.

He smiled grimly. “No one does here.”

Their prison had once been a temple — she could feel it in the architecture, the arches carved with lunar symbols now overgrown by the living roots of the forest. What had been holy was now devoured.

For months — maybe more, time had lost meaning — they had survived on whatever the rogues brought, their bodies sustained, but their strength slowly siphoned. The forest didn’t starve them. It fed on them.

Seren pressed a trembling hand to her chest, feeling the pulse of her daughter’s bond — faint but growing stronger with each passing day. It came in waves: warmth, power, the echo of moonlight. She tried not to weep when she felt it.

“She’s alive,” she whispered.

Theron looked up. “You’re sure?”

“Yes.” Seren’s voice broke on the word. “And stronger than I’ve ever felt her. Whatever has awakened in her… it’s beyond what we feared.”

Theron shifted, the sound of chains clinking against stone. “Then we need to hold on. Until she comes.”

“No.” Seren’s gaze snapped to him, fierce and pained. “If she comes here, she’ll walk straight into him.”

Silence settled, heavy as stone.

The air changed — cooler, charged. The faint hum of the Bloodwood deepened, resonant like a slow drum. The red light in the roots flared brighter, painting their faces in crimson.

Theron froze. “He’s listening again.”

Seren swallowed hard, spine stiffening. “He never stops.”

The whisper came then — not through the air, but through the mind.

Low. Gentle. Almost tender.

“You still speak her name with love.”

Seren’s blood ran cold.

“You should be proud, moon-born. The child carries what you never could.”

She pressed her hands over her ears, as if that could shut him out. “Stop.”

The voice chuckled softly, ancient and weary.

“I cannot stop. Not while she breathes. She is my echo, as much as yours. I see her now — silver and flame, walking the day you once feared. And she feels me, though she does not yet know my name.”

“Veylan,” Seren hissed. “You stay away from her.”

“Would you deny her the truth of what she is?”

“She is not yours!”

The roots shuddered. The glow in the chamber dimmed and flared again like the beat of a great heart. Theron lunged forward, gripping Seren’s wrist through his chains. “Seren! Don’t let him in!”

But his voice was already in her thoughts, softer now, like an old grief.

“She will come for you. She will come for both of you. And when she does, you will see — I do not want her broken. I only want her whole.”

The air stilled. The forest quieted, as if holding its breath.

Seren sagged against the wall, trembling. The glow from the roots faded to a dull crimson.

Theron watched her, chest heaving. “He’s getting stronger.”

She nodded numbly. “He feels her. The ceremony — her power will flare with it. That’s what he’s waiting for.”

Theron’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Then the moment she binds herself to Braxton, he’ll find the path.”

Seren lifted her gaze toward the bleeding canopy above, where no sunlight reached. “Then we have to find a way to warn her.”

“From here?”

Her jaw tightened. “If the moon can see this place, so can I.”

She closed her eyes, forcing her breath to steady. For a moment, she let her power stretch outward — a thin, silver thread weaving through the roots. It wasn’t enough to break free, but maybe enough to send a single flicker through the bond that tied her to her daughter.

A pulse of light shimmered faintly through the forest — there and gone in an instant.

Far away, under the clean blue sky of the day to come, Emry paused mid-step, her heart stuttering for a beat she couldn’t name.