Damien's POV
The forest was breathing.
Not with life, but with something older, something that watched, waited, whispered.
Each gust of wind carried a pulse, a low murmur that pressed against my chest like a heartbeat that didn't belong to me. The air smelled of wet earth, blood, and something metallic, like the memory of steel.
Every shadow seemed alive. Every rustle of leaves sounded like a warning. My boots sank into the soil, soft and damp from the night's dew, and with every step, I could feel the weight of the moon above me. Its light bled through the trees in streaks of white and crimson, bathing the mist in a ghostly glow.
Adrian's energy lingered here. I could feel it.
It pulsed under my skin like wildfire, threading through my veins, whispering mine, mine, mine.
The deeper I went, the stronger it grew. The forest itself felt like a living thing, the trees bending toward me, their branches whispering secrets only the damned could hear.
