Elara woke to the smell of damp moss and fading smoke. Riven had built a small fire outside the hollowed trunk where she slept, but something else pulled her attention—the faint groan of the injured man lying a few paces away.
His bandaged side rose and fell erratically. His eyelids twitched before fluttering open, revealing a pair of cloudy, frightened eyes.
"You—" His voice cracked as he tried to sit, wincing. "You're not one of them."
Elara crawled closer, keeping her tone soft. "Easy. Don't move too much. You lost a lot of blood."
The man stared past her, toward the tall, silent figure standing in the shadows. Riven watched them with tense shoulders, his posture protective and animalistic.
"Him," the man rasped. "He's one of them, isn't he?"
Elara stiffened. "He's saved my life twice. Whatever you think—"
"You don't understand," the man breathed. "This forest… it wasn't always like this." He coughed violently, and Riven took a threatening step forward. Elara gently touched his arm, signaling him to stay back.
"What happened here?" she asked the stranger.
His eyes flickered with horror. "A research team came here… scientists, biologists, military-linked personnel. They wanted to solve the extreme climate changes in Lornwood. Create humans that could adapt—stronger hearing, stronger instincts, faster regeneration."
Elara glanced at Riven, who had turned his head slightly, as if listening to a distant memory.
"It failed," the man continued. "The subjects mutated. Became hostile. The forest started changing with them."
"And you think Riven is one of them?" she whispered.
The man nodded weakly.
But Elara didn't back away. She looked at Riven—at the way he was trying to understand their conversation, at the gentle confusion in his eyes.
"He's not like those creatures," she said firmly.
"You don't know what he's capable of," the man hissed. "Those… things… they remember their own. They will come for him. They will come for you."
Riven stepped forward at the sound of her rising heartbeat. His hand brushed her shoulder—a brief, instinctive touch, protective, tense.
Elara swallowed hard, fear and defiance clashing inside her.
If what the stranger said was true… then everything was about to become far more dangerous than she imagined.