Chapter 1
The woman jumped from her bed, heart pounding. She strained to listen—there it was again. That sound. “No… no… this can’t be happening,” she whispered, panic in her voice, as she rushed into the next room. She glanced at the one-year-old boy sleeping peacefully in his crib, then turned her eyes to the small white bed across the room. The little girl was still asleep, curled under a blanket, her breathing soft and slow. “She’s only three,” the woman murmured, lifting the girl into her arms. “They can’t take her. She’s just a baby.” “Samantha?” a sleepy male voice called from behind her. “What are you doing, love?” “Carl,” she said in a hushed voice, opening the window. “They’re coming for her. I can hear them. I can’t let them take her. Watch Elias—I’ll take her to safety.” Without waiting for a reply, she jumped through the window and took off toward the forest beyond. Her bare feet pounded the earth as the sounds behind her grew louder, closer. “Mama?” the little girl asked sleepily, her voice muffled against Samantha’s shoulder. “Where are we going?” “Just hold on, baby. Mama won’t let them take you. You’re safe with me.” “What is scared, Mama?” Samantha’s eyes welled with tears. “Something you’ll never feel,” she whispered. “Now hold tight.” She ran faster. Samantha knew this forest like the back of her hand, but now, everything felt foreign. Nothing was where it should be. “Where the hell is the river? I can’t smell the water…” she muttered, voice tight with panic. “Take a left, Mama. It’s behind the clearing where we had a picnic last week,” the little girl said calmly. Samantha turned sharply and burst into the clearing. She stopped, sniffing the air. They were close. Too close. They were surrounded. A low growl built in her chest as she clutched her daughter protectively. “She’s not yours to take. She’s my baby. Mine!” From the shadows of the trees, twelve white wolves emerged, encircling her. One stepped forward. “Stay away from us!” she shouted. “I will fight you to the death for her—and you know I’m not bluffing.” The lead wolf halted, then slowly shifted into a human form. His hair was as white as snow, and his eyes held an unsettling kindness. “Samantha,” he said gently. “She needs to come with us. Now.” Samantha dropped to her knees, sobbing. “She’s my baby. How can you ask me to give her up? I love her—I really love her.” “If you truly love her,” the man said, stepping closer, “then you’ll let her go.” Her hands trembled as she set the little girl down. She took the child’s hands and stared into her brilliant grey eyes. “My beautiful baby girl… I love you.” Her voice cracked. “I will always love you. And Daddy loves you too. So, so much. You don’t have to go. I can—” “But Mama,” the girl interrupted softly, “I saw this in my dream. I know I have to go with them. It’s okay.” She cupped Samantha’s face with her tiny hands. Samantha, tears falling freely now, unclasped the golden chain from around her neck—a single charm dangling from it—and fastened it around her daughter’s. She kissed the girl’s forehead. The old man stepped closer and lifted the child into his arms. “So much power in such a little body,” he murmured, transfixed by her eyes. The girl turned to look at Samantha, still kneeling, clutching her chest. “I will remember you, Mama. You, Daddy, and Elias,” she said, touching the pendant at her neck. As the moonlight touched it, the image of Artemis, the Greek goddess of the hunt, shimmered to life. “How appropriate,” the old man whispered, touching the charm. “It’s time. We’re already late.” The group of thirteen disappeared into the forest’s shadows. Samantha’s anguished howl filled the night. Back at the house, Carl stood at the window, staring at the moon. “You better be watching over my daughter, Goddess,” he said quietly. “I’ll take care of Sam and Elias.” A single tear fell onto the small white teddy bear he held—her only reminder. Everything else—her clothes, her scent, her photos—was gone. She was gone.Trixie’s Point of View I’ve seen a lot of bad ideas in my life, but standing in front of a glowing flower in a cursed cave with unresolved relationship drama? This might be the dumbest. It’s pulsing now—bright, then dim, then bright again. Like it’s breathing. Or laughing. I take a step back. “Okay… that’s not normal.” Michael rolls his eyes. “It’s a flower, not a bomb.” The moment he says it—of course—the ground shudders under our feet. “Oh, for the love of—” I don’t even finish the sentence before cracks start splintering up the cave walls like veins made of lightning. The light from the flower flares white hot, blinding, making all of us flinch. When the light fades, I realize we’re not standing in a cave anymore. We’re standing in a room made of mirrors. Everywhere I look—my reflection. Endless, stretched, warped in places like funhouse glass, but worse. They ripple like water when I move. And then… They start to change. The reflections don’t show me anymore. They sh
Parker’s Point of View It’s too quiet. We stand around that glowing flower like guilty suspects at a trial, pretending the air isn’t thick enough to choke on. Michael’s bouncing slightly on his heels, like he wants to get this over with. Sonia’s coiled like a whip ready to strike. Trixie… won’t even look at me. Honestly? I don’t blame her. Finally, Michael breaks the tension the only way he knows how—with unnecessary, loud confidence. “Well. This has been fun. Can we grab the cursed shrub and go before I scream again?” Sonia’s voice cuts through like a thrown knife. “Don’t even start.” Michael throws his arms wide. “What? Did I bring the creepy fog? Did I invite the shadow clones to the party?” “You—” Sonia takes a step toward him, voice dangerously calm, “—kissed Trixie. I saw it. Don’t play dumb with me.” Michael’s jaw tightens. “That wasn’t me. That was black magic.” “And yet, it felt real,” she spits. “I don’t care if it was a hallucination or a projection from some dar
Sonia’s Point of View I don’t like caves. Correction—I hate caves. I hated them before this mess, and I hate them even more now that they come with fog, whispering voices, and enough bones on the floor to qualify as a historical massacre site. The worst part isn’t even the darkness. It’s Parker’s breathing next to me—tight, controlled, like he’s about three seconds from snapping completely. We haven’t spoken much since stepping inside. What’s there to say? We’re both pretending we’re braver than we are, and I’m not in the mood to unpack that emotional suitcase right now. After a few more steps, I stop. “Wait.” Parker’s instantly alert. “What? What is it?” I rummage in my pocket like a raccoon desperate for loose snacks and instead come up with—“Ha.” A flashlight. I forgot I shoved this thing in here before we left the castle. I flick it on. A weak, flickering beam cuts through the thick dark like a tiny sword made of batteries and bad decisions. Parker leans in. “That’s i
Parker’s Point of View I don’t think I’ve ever been this tired in my life. Physically? Sure. Mentally? Absolutely. But this—this is different. This is soul-tired. Like the whole cursed forest is chewing on my bones, one bite at a time, just to see when I’ll finally snap. We don’t stop moving, though. Sonia’s beside me, steady and sharp, eyes darting around like she’s counting enemies before they appear. And I’m right there with her, matching her stride, pretending I’m not falling apart inside. I should be focusing on the fog, the forest, the magic—but all I can think about is what I saw. Trixie. Kissing Michael. Laughing. Choosing him. I know it wasn’t real. I know it was a trick. But it still feels like someone took a crowbar to my ribs and pried my chest open for fun. I can’t even begin to imagine how Sonia’s holding it together. Finally, Sonia breaks the silence. “Parker.” Here we go. She doesn’t look at me, just keeps walking. Focused. Dangerous. “I have a question,” sh
Sonia’s Point of View The first thing I notice is the cold. Then the fog. And then the screaming rage boiling under my ribs when I open my eyes and see Michael across the clearing. Not dead. Not worried. No panic in sight. No—he’s busy. With Trixie. They’re leaning against one of the twisted black trees, tangled together like they don’t even remember the world’s ending. His hand’s in her hair, her hands are on his chest, and I swear to every celestial being that’s ever existed—if I weren’t frozen in shock, I’d rip his arms off and beat him with them. “You absolute bastard,” I breathe. They don’t hear me. Of course they don’t. Too busy playing let’s-ruin-Sonia’s-life in high definition right in front of me. “MICHAEL!” I shout, storming forward, fists clenched, magic sparking under my skin like fireworks ready to blow. Still nothing. Just more kissing. More hands. More betrayal. I’ve murdered people for less. “Oh, you think this is funny?” I snarl. “Wait until I get my hands
Parker’s Point of View When I wake up, I know something’s wrong. Not because of the fog—that’s expected by now. Not because of the cold creeping into my bones, or the way every single hair on the back of my neck is standing up like a warning siren. No. It’s the silence. And the fact that I’m alone. I sit up slowly, dirt clinging to my jacket, head pounding. The clearing is empty. No Trixie. No Michael. No Sonia. Just… me. Trixie? I try through the mindlink. Nothing. I close my eyes and focus harder, reaching out like Theo taught me to. Trix? Answer me. Where are you? Sonia? Anyone? Only static. Panic starts chewing at the edges of my stomach, but I shove it down. Panic doesn’t help. Thinking helps. And right now the only thought I have is find them. And then—I hear her. Trixie. Her voice, clear, sharp, annoyed as ever, floating through the fog like a lifeline. “—would you stop for once—ugh, Michael—” I sprint toward it, stumbling over roots and bones, ignoring the stin