The scream broke the silence.
Selene was frozen in place, her hand trembling over the thread she threaded. It returned again, louder and closer. A man's scream, ragged with fear, and the growl of something else.
Her blood grew cold.
She dropped the cloth and ran to the window. The sky above the mountain glowed orange as the Smoke curled through the trees and flames and danced beyond the cliff's edge.
The forest was burning.
"Caretaker!" she called, pushing the door open. "What's happening?"
No answer.
With her heart racing, Selene entered the hallway. The old wooden tower creaked around her and the scent of smoke slid under the walls like a warning.
Another howl echoed—deep, animalistic and too close.
She darted down the stairs, calling again, "Caretaker! Where are you?!"
Still nothing.
The tower wasn't big—The kitchen, the cellar, the old caretaker's quarters, and one big room were all off limits to her. Selene pushed through every room.
He was gone.
The air became denser. She coughed, then doubled over, her lungs being clawed at by the smoke. Her chest burned.
She grabbed and flung the satchel over her shoulder, the one he always kept by the entrance. No plan, no map, no choice.
She had to leave.
Grabbing the iron door doorknob, Selene pulled. It wasn't moving.
It was locked.
No.
No, no, no.
She jiggled it, kicked it, screamed at it.
She's trapped.
A deep growl rumbled from outside the stone walls. Selene's breath caught, she heard it again, closer. Not a wolf, not anything she'd ever heard before.
And then something slammed into the door.
Hard.
The wood cracked and the iron hinges screeched.
She stumbled back, grabbing a rusted fireplace poker. Her arms shook as she couldn't fight and she could barely hold the thing.
Another slam on the door.
Splinters rained onto the floor.
She ran.
Up the stairs, past her room, up again to the attic—the only place she hadn't been in years. Her caretaker always said it was unsafe. He said the ladder was old and she'd fall.
But dying in smoke or claws sounded worse.
She reached the trapdoor and pulled it. Dust choked the air. The wood groaned, but the door lifted. She climbed through and shoved it shut behind her.
The attic was filled with webs, broken crates, and cold air.
And a window.
Selene didn't think as she rushed to it and pulled at the frame but it stuck. She used the poker, jammed it into the crack, and forced it open.
A rush of icy air hit her.
Below, the mountain stretched in darkness and fire lit the horizon. The smell of blood and ash curled around her as the trees screamed with the wind.
And somewhere down there, she had to run.
Selene crawled out the window and onto the shingles. Her hands scraped on broken tiles. She reached the edge and looked down.
It was too high.
She closed her eyes. "Please," she whispered, to whatever was out there. "Don't let me die today."
And she jumped.
She hit the branches hard.
Leaves tore at her flesh and there was a splintering crack—her shoulder hit a branch. She somersaulted, rolled, and hit the undergrowth with a pant.
Pain burst across her side and she could not breathe for a second.
But she was alive.
Selene groaned, pulling herself up even though her legs shook, but they held.
The forest was a blur of smoke and red light. In the distance, the tower groaned.
And then…behind her…came the sound of the door breaking.
She didn't look back but she ran.
Her feet pounded the earth, stumbling over roots and rocks as her breath tore in and out of her lungs. The fire hadn't reached this part of the woods yet, but the heat licked at her back.
How far to the river?
Her caretaker always said, "The river means safety. If ever something happens, run east. Find the river."
So she ran east.
Branches snapped to her left as something stirred in the trees.
She dashed sideways, dashing through thorns but her satchel snagged on a branch. She yanked it free without breaking stride.
Another growl but much closer now.
Not a wolf—Bigger, angrier.
She pushed herself harder as branches whipped her face. Her shoulder screamed with pain, but she didn't stop.
The trees opened suddenly—and the cliff was there.
Too late.
She skidded to a halt, toes digging into dirt as rocks tumbled off the edge. Below, the valley spread wide. A silver river snaked through it like a ribbon of light.
But between her and it—in the miles of forest. Fire and whoever were chasing her.
Another snarl.
But this time, she turned.
And the beast stepped out.
Twice the size of a wolf, all shadow and teeth with red eyes.
Selene froze.
It snarled again, crouching low.
She raised the poker.
The thing laughed, It actually laughed—low, guttural, cruel.
Then it lunged.
Selene closed her eyes.
The air was split by a whistle. During mid-leap, something slammed into the creature.
It flew sideways, yelled, and collided with the trees.
Voices. Footsteps. A howl—not the beast, but a wolf's call.
Selene opened her eyes to see men in black armor rushing toward her. Wolves at their sides.
The creature vanished into the woods.
Selene backed away, still holding the poker.
A tall man stepped forward. His face was sharp. His eyes were ice.
He glanced at her like he'd seen a ghost.
"Lyra?" he inhaled deeply.
She blinked. "What?"
Behind him, another man let out a gasp. It's her. She is still alive.
She shook her head and replied, "No." "I'm not."
She was unable to complete it before her vision became blurry as her knees gave way.
The world turned dark.