Emily awoke to the scent of pine and earth, her body sprawled on a mossy bed in a Black Forest. She'd never done this before but knew from her grandmother's journals that ley lines wove through the world like invisible rivers, capable of crossing not just time but distance.
Her mind raced with questions.
Where was she?
Was it safe?
Could she ever go home?
The night was dark, and the ley lines pulsed through the trees like veins of power, nearly palpable after her crossing, though she could feel her connection to them waning. Her gown was ruined, the silk shredded by thorns, lace hanging in tatters from her hips. It was still somehow beautiful, a ghost of its former glory. She mourned it briefly—custom Dior wasn't cheap. But Emily was clever, and with a few deft maneuvers, she tore and tied the fabric into something passable. The dress now clung to her curves with a wild elegance.
A howl pierced the night, sending shivers up her spine, the hairs on her arms rising. The sky above was vast, streaked with unfamiliar stars, and her attention snapped to a flicker of movement in the trees. A low growl rumbled nearby, and her pulse spiked. Golden eyes gleamed in the dark, circling her—wolves, their fur glinting like silver under the moonlight. Not just any wolves, but massive creatures, their paws large enough to crush bone.
She sucked in a sharp breath and stepped back, tripping on her heels. She cursed under her breath.
How could I be so stupid, coming out tonight of all nights, so wildly unprepared? She thought, heart pounding as the creatures closed their circle.
They didn't pounce, though, to her fleeting relief.
She pushed herself to her knees, her diamond bracelet catching on a root, cursing her overdressed habits. A simpler outfit might've survived the portal, but Emily never did simple. Even now, dirt-streaked and disheveled, she carried herself with regal poise. Fear clawed at her, but she refused to let it break her. She rose, electric and alive, as if the ley lines had awakened something within her.
These wolves weren't ordinary. Their bright yellow eyes held an intelligence she couldn't quite name, their movements too deliberate, too precise. The largest, a massive creature with fur as dark as midnight, stepped forward. It paused, its gaze steady, as if weighing whether to scare her or savor the chase to come.
She couldn't outrun it, not in this outfit, not in these heels. She thought coldly.
The largest beast's breath was warm against her face now, too close, its wet nose gleaming, its teeth massive in a way that sent a shiver through her. It was not a shiver of cold, but of something deeper, stirring in her blood like a forgotten whisper.
"Please don't hurt me," she whispered, her voice steady despite the heat pooling in her chest and ice forming in her finger tips.
The wolf's head tilted, its golden eyes locking onto hers, as if it understood.
The ley lines beneath her thrummed, their energy syncing with her heartbeat, amplifying a sudden, inexplicable connection to the beast.
Then, a vision struck—vivid and disorienting: moonlight, where ley lines crossed beneath a city. She cried out, her knees buckling as the vision overwhelmed her. Her mind swirled with questions:
Is this a dream?
Or something the ley lines had woven into her soul?
The wolves didn't move, their eyes fixed on her as she crumpled, their presence both a threat and a strange comfort. The large midnight wolf stepped closer, its flank brushing her side, steadying her trembling form. But the weight of the vision was too much. Darkness swallowed her again.
In the haze of unconsciousness, she drifted through fragments of dreams.
Or were they something else?
She felt carried through ancient forests, the wolves' warmth enveloping her, their movements silent but purposeful. The ley lines sang beneath, guiding the pack toward a destination shrouded in mist.
Was she dreaming now, or was this real?
Her body felt weightless, suspended between worlds, her thoughts tangled in the vision's riddle. The wolves' eyes glowed in her mind, their intelligence a puzzle with no answer.
The dream shifted, revealing a circle of stones under moonlight. The stones are covered in sigils pulsing with power.
Then she saw a figure that might be human, but not quite. It was watching her from the shadows, its eyes glinting with a secret she couldn't grasp.
When her eyes fluttered open, the wolves had shifted, but the midnight wolf sat closest, its gaze unwavering but unreadable, as if it had guarded her through her collapse.
The ley lines hummed beneath her, softer now, like a lullaby. This was real. She had crossed through a portal to this strange forest, alone, surrounded by wolves.
Her gown, a tattered masterpiece, clung to her with wild beauty, no longer fit for a ball but perfect for this untamed place. She readjusted the torn lace with a defiant flick, refusing to let the wild strip her of her poise.
The wolves watched, their eyes glinting with something like amusement—or recognition.
She rose slowly, her legs unsteady but her spine straight, the heiress in her refusing to falter. The midnight wolf stood with her, its shoulder brushing her hip, the touch sending a jolt through her—not just from the ley lines, but from something primal that made her skin flush despite the cold night air.
Her light dress offered no warmth, and she had no idea if she could return through the portal or if the wolves would let her try. She felt the night air cool her skin where his midnight black fur had been keeping her warm, the loss of heat noticeable.
A noise sounded in the distance, not a wolf's howl but something else, something that raised the hackles of the pack and chilled her blood further. The wolves tensed, their ears twitching, their bodies bristling with a sudden alertness. The midnight wolf's gaze snapped toward the sound, a low growl rumbling in its throat. Emily's heart raced, her fingers tightening around her small clutch, the only remnant of her former life. Whatever was out there was enough to unsettle these giants, and that thought alone made her stomach twist.
The pack began to move, nudging her forward with gentle presses of their noses, urging her deeper into the forest. She didn't resist. Whatever was capable of alarming these giants wasn't something she could face alone, armed only with her clutch and a small bag of supplies. She cursed her own folly again—coming unprepared, treating this as a fanciful adventure.
She had treated the ley lines like a game no more serious than croquet.
But this was no game.
The ley lines pulsed beneath her feet, whispering of paths and portals, of a world where she was more than the overdressed heiress who'd stumbled through the Glastonbury rift. She felt overwhelmed. It was an unfamiliar feeling for her, a heiress. In her world she was all-but-royalty. Being at anyone's mercy (except her parents) was nearly a foreign concept.
The forest seemed to shift as they moved, the trees parting to reveal glimpses of ancient stone markers, their surfaces etched with sigils that mirrored those in Glastonbury. Another portal, perhaps, or a nexus of ley lines stronger than any she'd felt before.
Why could she feel them? The question flickered through her mind as she stumbled forward, her heels sinking into the earth, the wolves' warm bodies pressing close to keep her upright. Many stood nearly as tall as her on all fours, their presence both a shield and a cage.
The pack's pace quickened, and Emily's heart pounded with fear and anticipation. The midnight wolf was agitated, exchanging sharp glances with another large male nearby, their silent communication heavy with tension. She didn't know how she knew, but she could sense the males from the females, their dynamics playing out in subtle growls and shifts of posture.
Was this instinct, or something the ley lines had awakened in her? She Thought.
The visions might be dreams or something else? Her brain felt foggy still swirling from the portal travel, visions and now from more pressing matters— she was freezing cold and hungry from walking.
The dreams hinted at a knowledge of these paths and even of these wolves. Something about their silent language. But how could that be? She thought to herself that it all seamed familiar but she was getting tired and just couldn't think properly right now. Walking in the cold and in fear had sapped away her energy.
The midnight black wolf glanced back at her, its eyes holding a promise she couldn't yet decipher, a glint of something ancient and knowing.
She met its gaze, her chin lifting, her ash-blonde curls falling defiantly over one shoulder. Whatever this place was, whatever she was becoming, Emily would face it as she always had— dressed to impress, even if her gown was in tatters. She wouldn't flinch, wouldn't show how scared she felt.