Chapter 2 - The Weeping Tree

The scream didn't stop. It echoed through Silverthorn like a blade scraping bone, sharp and wet, too raw to be human-but not animal, either. Eden froze by the window of the general store, every instinct in her body screaming to run. But to where? She didn't know this place. She didn't know who to trust. And she didn't know what made that sound. The woman-Mara, she'd finally offered-snatched a wooden cross from the wall and pressed it into Eden's hand. "Don't drop this," she said. "Don't speak. And don't look back, no matter what you hear." "What's happening?" Eden demanded. "They're hunting." Mara shoved open the back door and pushed her into the rain-soaked alley. "Hurry," she hissed. "Find the weeping tree. It's the only place left they won't cross." Eden ran. Her ankle throbbed with every step, but adrenaline drowned the pain. The night was a living thing around her-moaning wind, trees whispering secrets she couldn't hear, footsteps she didn't dare confirm were hers alone. Something moved in the mist to her right. She didn't look. Something howled again-closer now. It cut through her spine like ice water, long and guttural. Not just rage. Hunger. Purpose. The houses she passed were dark, some boarded up, some with windows cracked open just enough for fearful eyes to peek out. No one came to help. No lights turned on. They know better. The map Mara had given her was scribbled on the back of a receipt-crude, frantic, with a single phrase circled in ink: "Weeping tree. Past the Hollow Path. Left at the red stones." She found the stones. Flat, glistening wet, like they'd been bled on. Her heart slammed against her ribs. Behind her, twigs snapped. She ran. Trees closed in around her-closer, tighter, limbs tangling like fingers. The path narrowed until it was no more than deer trail. Her coat snagged on a branch. She tore free. Then-suddenly-silence. The forest just... stopped. No wind. No movement. No sound. Just a single, twisted tree in a clearing, its branches curled downward like arms wringing themselves dry of sorrow. Moss hung from its limbs like tattered veils. At its base: a house. Half-swallowed by the earth, built of stone and old grief. The weeping tree. Eden stumbled toward it, chest heaving. The door creaked open before she touched it. Kade stood there. Soaked. Barefoot. Eyes feral. "I told you not to follow me." "I didn't!" she snapped. "I-" His gaze raked over her. Saw the cross. The fear. The truth in her trembling hands. "Get inside," he growled. She didn't argue. He slammed the door behind them just as something massive slammed into it. Wood splintered. Eden screamed. Kade shoved her behind him, his entire body bristling with tension. "Stay down. Don't speak." The growling on the other side wasn't like a wolf. It was lower. Older. Like a voice that remembered the first time it tasted blood. Kade's muscles coiled. Then-just as suddenly-it was gone. Not gone like it ran. Gone like it was never there. Eden collapsed to her knees. "What was that?" He didn't answer. Instead, Kade turned and walked to a rusted fireplace grate. He pulled something from underneath-an old, leather-bound book sealed in wax thread. He tossed it on the table. "This belonged to your aunt." Eden stared. It was marked with a symbol-three interlocking wolves forming a ring. "I don't understand." "You will," he said. "But you need to know the truth, Eden. About Silverthorn. About the curse. And about me." She looked up at him. "Why now?" His eyes flickered gold. "Because I can't protect you if you keep running blind. And you've already been marked." "Marked?" He sat across from her and opened the book to a page with her aunt's handwriting. Kade Thorne returned tonight. The blood moon rises in three days. If Eden comes, she must not look him in the eye. Not until she's ready. "Ready for what?" Eden whispered. Kade closed the book. "To remember who you are." Then the wind outside howled again-and something scratched at the walls.