The forest did not sleep after the hunt.
It watched.
Lena stumbled through the trees long after the hunters' voices faded, her breath shallow, her thoughts tangled. Every sound felt sharper—the snap of twigs, the whisper of leaves, the distant rush of the marsh. The pendant lay hot against her chest, as if it had fused with her skin.
She didn't remember deciding where to go. Her feet simply knew.
When she reached the clearing, the fog thinned, revealing a circle of ancient stones half-buried in moss. Grandma Mae had warned her about this place once, in a story told too casually to be accidental.
The forest remembers blood.
Lena stepped into the circle.
The moonlight intensified instantly, pouring down like liquid silver. Her pulse throbbed in her ears. A strange warmth spread from her chest through her arms and legs—not pain, not exactly, but pressure, like something stretching awake after a long sleep.
She doubled over, gasping.
Images crashed into her mind.
Her mother, standing in this very circle, eyes glowing softly as she pressed the pendant into Grandma Mae's hand.
Elias, younger, screaming as the curse took hold for the first time.
The forest, ancient and alive, binding itself to the Gray bloodline long before Ashmoor existed.
"This isn't just a curse," Lena whispered. "It's a bond."
A low sound answered her.
Elias stepped into the clearing, his movements cautious, controlled—but strained. He looked more human again, though the glow in his eyes remained.
"You came," he said.
"I couldn't not," Lena replied. "The forest pulled me here."
Elias nodded grimly. "That's how it starts."
He stayed at the edge of the stone circle, as if afraid to cross into it. "You shouldn't have seen me tonight. The curse doesn't wait once it knows you're aware."
Lena straightened, though her legs still trembled. "Then teach me."
Elias stared at her. "Teach you what?"
"How not to lose myself."
Silence stretched between them. The moon crept higher.
"There is no stopping the change," Elias said finally. "Only guiding it. Fighting makes it worse."
Lena clenched her fists. "I don't believe that."
"You will," he said quietly. "When your bones ache and the forest calls your name like it's always known you."
As if summoned by his words, the warmth in Lena's body surged. Her hands shook. She cried out, dropping to her knees as something inside her shifted—not visibly, but deeply. Her senses flared, the world snapping into focus with painful clarity.
She could hear Elias's heartbeat.
Smell the damp earth, the metal of old stone, the fading fear of hunters miles away.
"Elias," she gasped. "Help me."
He crossed into the circle at once.
"Breathe," he said firmly, kneeling in front of her. "Don't resist it. Let it pass through you."
"I'm scared," Lena whispered.
"I know," he replied. "So was I."
The pendant blazed with light. Symbols lifted from its surface like glowing embers, circling Lena's hands. She screamed—not in pain, but in release—as the surge peaked and then slowly ebbed.
When it was over, she collapsed forward.
Elias caught her.
For a moment, neither moved.
"You didn't change," he said softly, awe in his voice.
Lena lifted her head. Her reflection shimmered faintly in a pool of moonlight—her eyes still human, but brighter. Stronger.
"Not yet," she said.
Elias helped her stand. "That means the bond is different for you. Stronger control… but also greater risk."
"Risk of what?"
He met her gaze. "If you lose control, you won't just become the beast."
"You'll become the forest."
A distant horn sounded—the hunters regrouping.
Elias stepped back. "You must go. If they find you here—"
"I know," Lena said. "But I'm not running away."
She looked at the stones, the moon, the endless dark of the trees. "I'm ending this. For you. For my mother."
Elias nodded once. "Then we don't have much time."
As Lena left the clearing, the forest shifted around her—not threatening, not kind.
Aware.
And for the first time, it bowed.