Sue hadn’t realized how far she’d strayed until the air changed. The forest grew dense in a way that wasn’t just physical—heavier, quieter, like something ancient was listening. The usual sounds of birds and rustling leaves had faded into a deep hush, and even her wolf senses, sharp and practiced, couldn’t place why her pulse had started to rise. She moved slower now, the earth damp beneath her boots, her eyes catching strange markings carved into nearby bark. They weren’t random. They were warnings—old, deliberate, territorial. But by the time she noticed them, it was already too late.

The clearing opened without warning, sudden and perfect, like the forest had made space just for her to be seen. At its center stood a man who didn’t move, didn’t even flinch at her arrival. His body looked relaxed, but everything about him radiated control—bare skin traced with faint, living lines that shimmered like they belonged to the ground itself. His hair hung in loose braids, and his eyes were sharp, unreadable. The vines around his feet seemed to breathe, responding to his presence like they knew him. He didn’t need to raise a weapon, or even his voice. Just standing there, he made it clear: this place wasn’t for her.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he said, and that was all. The moment the words left his mouth, the trees seemed to lean just slightly closer, and a crow above let out a single, sharp caw before taking off.