The forest had always been quiet near Windhollow. But this—this was different.
Sophie crossed the old rope bridge leading out of town just before dawn. Mist clung to the ground like breathing smoke, and the chill in the air carried the whispers of a place that should never be disturbed.
The trees were darker here, denser. Towering oaks twisted into unnatural shapes, their branches gnarled like claws. A murder of crows followed her for a while, their cries echoing like omens across the sky. Still, Sophie pressed forward.
Her grandmother's shallow breaths echoed in her memory.
Find the leaf and save her. Nothing else mattered.
She walked until the sun was high, using the ancient compass tied around her neck with leather string. North. Always north. Past the Blackroot stream, just as the old tales said. The water here was blackened with moss and strange fungi. It smelled wrong—like rust and something… sour. She didn't drink it.
By the time she reached the Hollow Pines—trees so wide you could sleep inside them—her legs ached. She took out the book, flipping to the page again. The illustration glowed faintly in the light that filtered through the trees.
Miracle Leaf. Healing beyond magic. Found only within the heart of the Jungle Forest.
Sophie knelt beside a rock and caught her breath, nibbling on dry biscuits. That was when she heard it. A low, haunting growl.
She froze.
It came again—closer this time. Not human. Not animal. Something in between.
Heart pounding, Sophie slid behind a tree and held her breath. From the shadows emerged a creature—tall, lithe, cloaked in gray fur. Its glowing amber eyes scanned the trees. It moved on two legs, muscles shifting beneath its skin, its snout twitching as it sniffed the air.
A werewolf.
Not just any. This one wasn't feral. It wore armor.
Sophie didn't move. She barely breathed.
The creature paused, eyes narrowing. It tilted its head… then growled deeply and bounded away, vanishing into the shadows as quickly as it appeared.
Her fingers shook as she clutched the book. They're here, she thought. They're guarding the forest.
It wasn't just stories. The Jungle Forest was theirs.
Suddenly, she wasn't just trespassing into a forbidden place. She was walking into their territory.
But Sophie stood. She had come too far to turn back now.
By nightfall, the woods had changed again. Trees bent inward, forming narrow passageways. Strange flowers pulsed with eerie blue light, and whispers danced through the leaves like voices half-heard in dreams. The air was heavier here—suffocating, thick with enchantment and danger.
Sophie found shelter beneath a crooked willow, wrapping herself in her shawl, blade at her side.
She didn't know she was being watched.
From deep within the woods, a pair of silver eyes tracked her every movement.
Eyes that remembered her scent.
Eyes that burned with the same fury from twelve years ago.