Chapter 08 (Part 02)

I don’t remember walking back through the door, but suddenly I’m sitting on the old couch in the living room, knees tucked up under me, arms wrapped tight around my body like I can hold myself together through sheer force of will.

The room feels different now. Smaller. Like the walls are pressing in on me.

Elsie moves like she’s walking on glass. Every step is deliberate, careful. She lights a single white candle and sets it on the coffee table between us, then sits in the armchair across from me. The flame flickers, casting dancing shadows across her face.

“I felt like I was burning,” I whisper, breaking the heavy silence. “But not from the outside. It was like something was moving inside me. Under my skin. Pulling me forward like I was attached to a fishing line.”

She nods, and something in her expression tells me this isn’t a surprise. She’s been expecting this.

“That’s how it starts.”

Her matter-of-fact tone makes me want to scream.

“I thought it was in my head,” I say. “The dreams, the way I kept thinking about him. I thought I was just… I don’t know. Losing my mind.”

“It’s not in your head.”

“Then what is it?”

She doesn’t blink. Doesn’t look away.

“You’re bonding.”

The word hits me like a physical blow. I shake my head immediately, voice sharper than I intended.

“No. No, I’m not. I didn’t agree to this. I didn’t choose him. I don’t even know him.”

“That’s not how it works.”

“Then how does it work?” I demand, my voice rising. “Because I’m pretty sure I should get a say in whatever’s happening to my body!”

Her face is too calm. Too composed. Like she’s had this conversation before, maybe with herself in the mirror. Like she’s been preparing for exactly this moment.

“You were marked,” she says simply. “Your blood answered his. The moment you stepped into his territory, the bond began to form.”

“I didn’t step into anything,” I snap. “I didn’t even know he existed until a week ago!”

“You didn’t have to know. The land knows. It recognized you.”

I stare at her, trying to process what she’s saying. It sounds insane. Like something out of a fantasy novel, not real life.

“That’s impossible.”

“Is it?” She leans forward slightly, the candlelight making her eyes look almost golden. “You’ve felt it, haven’t you? The way the forest seems alive. The way it watches you. The way it responds to you.”

I want to deny it, but I can’t. Because she’s right.

The fire crackles quietly in the background, but the only real heat is still under my skin. I feel itchy. Restless. Crowded in my own body. Like my bones are too tight for my soul, like I’m a snake trying to shed skin that won’t come off.

“What does it do to me?” I ask finally, dreading the answer.

Her response is almost a whisper.

“It changes you.”

The words hang in the air like smoke.

I go still.

“It pulls you,” she continues. “Toward him. It’ll keep doing that—slowly at first, but with increasing force. It will get harder to be away from him. Harder to think about anything else. It will affect your mind. Your body. Your instincts.”

She pauses, and I can see her choosing her next words carefully.

“You’ll feel the echo of his emotions. His pain will become yours. His moods will shift your own. You’ll crave his nearness like…”

“Like what?”

“Like air.”

My chest tightens. “Like a drug?”

“Worse.” Her voice is flat, final. “Because you can quit drugs.”

I grip the edge of the cushion so hard my knuckles turn white. The fabric is rough under my fingertips, and I focus on that sensation to keep myself grounded.

“What happens if I say no?” I whisper. “What happens if I fight it?”

She looks at me like I’ve already lost a war I didn’t know I was fighting.

“You already are.”

“No.”

I shake my head hard, so hard it makes me dizzy.

“No, no, no—this isn’t fair.”

Elsie doesn’t speak. She just watches me come undone with the patience of someone who’s seen this before.

“I don’t even know him!” I shout, surging to my feet. The sudden movement makes the room spin, but I ignore it. “He didn’t talk to me. He didn’t introduce himself. He didn’t ask permission. He just looked at me like—like I already belonged to him!”

“You do.”

The words hit me like a slap.

“I’m not some prize!” My voice cracks with fury. “I’m not some thing the woods can just assign to someone! I’m a person! I have rights!”

“Ivy—”

“I didn’t ask for this!” I’m pacing now, my bare feet silent on the worn wooden floor. “I didn’t ask to be marked. Or bonded. Or hunted. I came here to disappear. That’s it. That’s all I wanted! To be left alone!”

The heat under my skin is rising again, spreading up my ribs and across my chest like wildfire. I can feel the mark burning without even looking at it.

“You stepped onto his land,” Elsie says quietly.

“That doesn’t mean I belong to him!”

“In his world, it does.”

I whirl to face her, fists clenched so tight my nails bite into my palms hard enough to draw blood.

“Then his world is wrong!”

She doesn’t argue with me. Doesn’t try to convince me otherwise. She just sits there, watching me rage against something I don’t understand, something I never chose.

“If I walk away,” I say, turning on her with desperate energy, “if I ignore this—if I pack up right now and leave—what happens then?”

Elsie’s face tightens. Something flickers in her eyes. Pain, maybe. Or memory.

“Tell me,” I demand.

She stands slowly, like her bones ache. Crosses the room to the window and stares out at the fog-wrapped forest.

Then, very quietly: “You’ll both feel it.”

I blink. “What?”

“The bond. You’ll feel it tear. Like a part of you’s been cut open from the inside. Like someone’s reached into your chest and ripped something vital out with their bare hands.”

Her voice is distant now, like she’s speaking from experience.

“It doesn’t kill you,” she continues. “Not right away. But it leaves a hole. One that never closes. One that bleeds for the rest of your life.”