The Ashwood swallowed Kael whole. Every step he took deeper into the forest was like walking into a living throat, shadows closing around him, branches bending as though to watch. The air pressed heavy, damp, and charged with a hum that gnawed at the back of his skull. His curse stirred greedily at that hum, whispering in tones that felt both alien and familiar, urging him to give in, to let it drink, to stop resisting.
He staggered once, catching himself against the bark of a black-barked tree. The wood was warm beneath his palm—pulsing faintly, as though veins ran through it. He tore his hand away with a hiss, fingers tingling.
"You shouldn't touch the heartwood," Serenya's voice came sharp, low, and unyielding behind him.
Kael turned, breathing hard. She stood a few paces away, bow already strung though not raised. Her pale-green eyes seemed to glow faintly in the dim half-light, like reflections of leaves on water. Every line of her posture screamed control, yet beneath it he saw the tension in her jaw, the flex of her fingers against the bowstring. She didn't trust him—likely never would.
"I didn't mean to," Kael muttered, forcing the curse down into silence. His veins felt too tight, every beat of his heart too loud in his ears. "The forest feels alive."
"It is." Serenya stepped closer, her boots making no sound on the mossy ground. Her hair—a cascade of raven-black—caught the faint glow of fungi clinging to the trunks, painting her in an unearthly sheen. "And it doesn't want you here."
Kael's lips twitched in a bitter smile. "It seems I'm unwanted everywhere these days."
Her eyes flicked to his face, lingered a moment too long, then hardened again. "Don't mistake my warning for pity."
Yet the forest disagreed with her words. Every time Kael drew breath, the trees leaned in, creaking like old bones. He felt their attention like a pressure on his chest. The curse within him responded eagerly, reaching out invisible tendrils, hungering. He clenched his fists and forced it back, sweat beading at his temple.
He stumbled forward, and Serenya moved instinctively, catching his arm before he collapsed. For a moment, their bodies pressed close—his weight against her steadiness, her breath brushing his cheek.
Kael froze, curse roaring at the contact. He forced himself to step back quickly, though his skin burned where she'd touched him. Serenya's hand lingered in the air a heartbeat longer than it should have, before she snatched it back as if scorched.
"You need to control it," she said curtly, though her voice was softer than before.
"I'm trying," Kael whispered, though he wasn't sure if he spoke to her or to himself.
The deeper they went, the stranger the Ashwood became. The canopy thickened overhead until only slivers of dull silver light filtered through. Mushrooms the size of shields sprouted from the bases of trees, glowing faintly in hues of blue and violet. Pools of water reflected not the world above but shifting shapes, flickering images that seemed to belong to another place entirely. Once, Kael swore he saw Lyra's golden eyes staring up at him from a pool's surface before the water shivered and went dark.
Serenya walked ahead, every step deliberate. She moved like one born of this place, her body flowing with the rhythms of the forest. Kael followed, each breath ragged, curse snarling at the unseen energies around him.
At one point, she paused, crouched low, and motioned him still. He obeyed, crouching behind her. Through the undergrowth, a creature prowled—a wolf, or what might once have been one. Its body was twisted, limbs too long, fur matted with shadow. Its eyes burned with the same unnatural hunger Kael felt within himself.
The curse inside him surged, reaching toward the beast as if it were kin. Kael's vision blurred. He gritted his teeth, digging nails into his palms until blood welled.
Serenya's gaze darted back to him, sharp. For an instant, she seemed ready to loose her arrow into him rather than the beast. Then she shifted, aimed past him, and loosed.
The arrow struck the creature's skull cleanly. It collapsed without a sound, shadows unraveling from its body like smoke.
Kael exhaled raggedly.
"You draw them," Serenya said flatly. "Your curse calls to them."
He wanted to deny it, but the truth was undeniable. "Then maybe I should leave."
Her silence stretched. Finally, she shook her head. "If you go alone, you'll die before dawn. And the Ashwood doesn't forgive trespass lightly. You'll tear it apart, or it will tear you apart."
Kael let out a dry laugh. "So I'm damned either way."
Serenya didn't answer. But when he faltered again, she stepped to his side, steadying him with a hand at his back.
They reached a grove unlike any Kael had ever seen. The trees formed a perfect circle, their trunks arching overhead into a woven dome of branches. In the center, a pool glimmered with pale light, though no stars pierced the canopy above. The air thrummed with power, heavy enough that Kael swayed where he stood.
Serenya's voice dropped to a whisper, reverent despite herself. "The Whispering Grove."
Kael felt the curse inside him rear up, frantic, hungry, desperate. His knees buckled, and he dropped to the ground, clutching his chest. The whispers grew louder, not just in his head but all around—voices curling through the air, threading through the branches, rising from the earth itself.
Kael… Kael… you are ours…
He gasped, vision fracturing. His reflection rippled in the pool, but it wasn't his face staring back. It was something darker, something crowned in shadow.
"No," he snarled, forcing the word out. His veins glowed faintly red beneath his skin, pulsing like cracks in stone.
Serenya rushed to him, dropping to her knees. She gripped his shoulders, shaking him. "Fight it! Do you hear me? Fight it!"
Her eyes burned into his, fierce, unyielding. For a moment, the whispers faltered. Kael latched onto her gaze, grounding himself in it—the steadiness, the fire, the raw life. He clung to her as though she were the only thing holding him in this world.
"Serenya…" His voice broke on her name.
Her breath caught. She hadn't expected the sound of her name from his lips to hit her like an arrow to the heart. For the briefest instant, she saw not the cursed man, not the danger, but the wounded soul beneath.
And in that heartbeat, she tightened her hold on him instead of letting go.
Hours passed, though time seemed strange in the Grove. Eventually, Kael's breathing steadied, the curse's flare retreating to a simmering growl. He lay back against the moss, utterly spent. Serenya remained at his side, bow across her knees, though her hand rested near his shoulder as if ready to steady him again.
"You should have left me," he murmured.
Her jaw tightened. "Perhaps."
"Why didn't you?"
Serenya didn't answer at first. Her gaze traced his face, the lines of exhaustion, the stubbornness that still lingered even in weakness. She remembered the way he'd said her name, the way he'd looked at her as if she were light in his darkness.
Finally, she said softly, "Because the forest hasn't decided to kill you yet. And until it does, neither will I."
Their eyes locked, a fragile truce forged in that exchange. The Grove whispered around them, but for the first time, Kael felt he might not be entirely alone in the fight against his curse.
He closed his eyes, surrendering to the rare peace of the moment. Serenya stayed awake, watching him, conflicted but unable to look away.
Above them, the branches whispered secrets only the forest understood.