34. The Price of Truth

The light of dawn filters through the foliage, draping the forest in shades of gold and green. Shadow sits beside me, still recovering from his transformation. His arms rest on his knees, head bowed as though carrying the weight of the world. He doesn’t speak, but I know he’s trying to process what just happened.

I don’t speak either. My thoughts whirl like a storm—his beastly form, his words, the danger closing in around us. And yet, beneath the chaos, something unexpected stirs: a strange, quiet calm. As if we’ve finally reached an understanding, though we have no idea what to do with it.

“Do you see now?” Shadow’s voice breaks the silence at last, low and heavy with resignation.

“This is what I am, Eve. This is what I’ve always been.”

“I don’t care.” The answer leaves me before I can think. I kneel before him, cradling his face in my hands. His eyes, burdened with guilt, still burn with the same intensity that’s always drawn me to him.

“I told you I wouldn’t leave—and I meant it.”

Shadow closes his eyes, leaning into my touch like it’s the only thing keeping him afloat. But when he opens them again, there’s steel in his gaze.

“If you stay with me, you’ll have to know everything.” He rises in one swift, almost feral motion.

“No more secrets. No more half-truths. But you have to promise me this—if you decide it’s too much, you walk away. And you don’t look back.”

I search his face, trying to read what he’s not saying aloud. But I know this isn’t just about protecting me anymore. This is about trust—about letting me all the way in.

“I promise.” My voice is steady, though uncertainty flickers inside me like a candle in the wind.

Shadow nods and offers me his hand. I take it without hesitation, and together we walk back toward the clearing where it all began. The air feels charged—not just with the dampness of dawn, but with something deeper: the weight of what’s coming.

The path back is steeped in uneasy silence. The forest, though calm, feels watchful—every shadow, every crunch of leaves underfoot sets my nerves on edge. But Shadow walks as if the earth itself belongs to him, each step certain, unyielding.

“Where are we going?” I ask at last, unable to bear the tension.

“To the heart of the forest.” His reply is clipped, mechanical.

“That’s where my clan gathers. Where everything began.”

The heart of the forest. I’ve heard whispers about that place—warnings passed in hushed tones by the townsfolk. A realm where nature bends to no human law, where beasts rule and men trespass at their peril. And now, I’m being led straight into its jaws.

When we arrive, the clearing opens like a stage torn from a dream—or a nightmare. At its center lies a great circle of black stones, encircled by trees that seem to lean inward like silent sentinels. The air here feels heavier, charged with raw energy.

Shadow halts at the circle’s edge and turns to me.

“Before we go in, you need to understand—this won’t be easy.” His eyes lock on mine, dark with worry.

“My clan… they won’t accept us. To them, a human like you is a threat. A mistake to be corrected.”

“And what do you think?” I ask, holding his gaze.

“I think you’re the only right thing in my life.” His answer is so raw it steals my breath. But then his expression shifts, hardens.

“And because of that… they’ll do everything in their power to tear us apart.”

A shiver runs down my spine, but I don’t falter. Instead, I step closer and take his hand.

“Then let them try. I’m not leaving.”

Shadow studies me for a long moment, searching for doubt. When he finds none, he nods and leads me across the threshold. The moment my foot crosses that invisible line, a chill sweeps through me—as though I’ve stepped into another world.

The clearing doesn’t stay empty for long. One by one, figures emerge from the shadows. Some in human form, others half-shifted, their beastly traits glinting in the dim light. Each carries an aura that makes my skin prickle. Their eyes gleam with distrust, and their murmurs ripple like a tide.

“Shadow.”

A voice like a blade slices through the whispers. From the darkness strides a towering man, broad-shouldered, radiating authority. His hair is streaked with gray, yet his movements are sharp, controlled—a predator in his prime. The crowd stills at his presence.

“What is the meaning of this?”

“Father.” Shadow’s voice is low, almost reverent—but beneath it, a tremor of fear.

“This is Eve. She’s with me.”

The man—the leader, I realize—rakes me with a gaze so piercing it feels like he’s stripping me bare. His eyes burn with the same crimson glow Shadow bears when he transforms, but in him there is no warmth—only judgment.

“A human?” he spits, as if the word itself were poison.

“What game are you playing at, Shadow?”

“This isn’t a game.” Shadow’s voice rings firm, though tension coils tight in his frame.

“I love her, Father. And I won’t let her go.”

The leader laughs—a cold, mirthless sound that rolls through the clearing like distant thunder. Others join in, cruel and mocking. But when his eyes return to me, they gleam with venom.

“This is an insult to the clan. You know the law, Shadow. Humans have no place among us. And least of all…”

He pauses, letting his gaze rake over me with open disdain.

“…a fragile little thing like this.”

The words lash me like a whip, but I refuse to flinch. I lift my chin, swallowing the surge of anger clawing at my throat. I don’t need Shadow to defend me. I can stand on my own.

“I’m not fragile,” I say, my voice steady, sharp as steel.

“And I’m no threat to you. All I want… is to be with him.”

The leader’s brows arch—surprise flickering, if only for an instant. Then his face hardens to stone.

“Then you’ve chosen your fate, human.” He turns to Shadow, his tone colder than frost.

“And you, my son—so have you.”

The words hang heavy in the charged air, a verdict and a challenge all at once. And though danger looms like a blade at our throats, I know this: I’ve taken the first step into war for the man I love.

And I will not turn back.