The forest bled into twilight as they crossed the veil.
Mist coiled low across the ground, silver and soft, curling around their boots like whispers that refused to fade. The air on this side was colder and sharper somehow as though the world itself had stopped to listen.
They'd been walking for hours. The faint hum of the veil still lingered in their bones, a low vibration that made the edges of reality blur.
Lucien walked ahead, silent as ever, every step purposeful. His coat stirred with each breeze, shadows sliding off his frame like a second skin. Behind him, Melody followed with Asha and Kael, while Darian trailed at the rear, always watchful, his hand never far from the blade strapped to his hip.
It was Asha who broke the quiet first.
"So," she said, her voice lilting, breaking the monotony of their steps. "Tell me something, city girl. What's it like living in a world that's forgotten what hunts it?"
Melody blinked, her voice soft but steady. "Loud. Bright. Always pretending to be safe."
Kael gave a short laugh. "Sounds like hell."
She smiled faintly. "You get used to it. Or you pretend to."
Asha gave her a sidelong glance. "You talk like someone who's been pretending for a long time."
Lucien didn't look back, but his pace slowed almost imperceptibly as if her words had hooked his attention.
Melody hesitated. There were stories she had never told anyone. But somehow, out here, beneath the ghostlight sky and among people who shouldn't exist, honesty felt easier.
"I grew up in the city," she began quietly. "No family. No roots. Just noise and faces that changed every few years. Foster homes that never lasted. The only thing that did was my camera."
Asha tilted her head, her expression softening.
"I started taking pictures when I was twelve," Melody continued. "Street corners. Strangers. Things that didn't make sense but felt important. I guess… I was trying to find proof that I existed."
Kael's teasing tone had gentled. "You were human back then?"
"Still am." She looked up at the faintly glowing horizon. "At least, I think so."
Darian's voice cut through the quiet, low and certain. "No mortal carries the mark of the goddess."
Melody touched the crescent scar faintly visible at her collarbone. It had stopped burning hours ago, but it never stopped feeling alive. "I didn't choose this," she murmured. "Before I met Lucien, I didn't believe in gods, curses, or destiny. I believed in evidence. In light and shadow."
Lucien's voice came, soft but sharp. "And yet, they found you."
She met his gaze when he turned slightly. The air between them seemed to thrum for a heartbeat, something unspoken, remembered.
"I was a photojournalist," she went on, forcing her attention forward. "I chased stories. Crime scenes, accidents, whatever the city tried to hide. The night I met you, Lucien… I thought I was covering a murder. I didn't realize the story was mine."
Asha's eyes widened slightly. "You mean?"
"I saw him," Melody said. "Standing over a body under the Hollow Moon. I thought he was the killer."
Kael gave a low whistle. "That must've been awkward."
Melody gave a dry laugh. "You have no idea. I followed him, thinking I was being clever. But when I looked up, the moon turned red and then it wasn't the city anymore. I was standing in a forest. This forest."
Her voice trembled at the memory, and for a moment, the only sound was the wind moving through the trees.
Asha reached out and touched her arm lightly. "The curse called to you. It always finds its way back."
Lucien didn't speak, but Melody saw his shoulders tighten, his jaw set against something invisible.
"I kept dreaming of this place," Melody said softly. "Even before I met him. Wolves under the moon. A temple. A woman crying in a language I didn't know. I thought I was losing my mind."
"You were remembering," Asha whispered.
"Maybe," Melody murmured. "Or maybe the curse never really let me forget."
No one replied. The forest stretched out endlessly before them, lit only by the twin moons rising higher in the sky. The mist began to glow faintly blue as they walked, catching around their ankles like liquid starlight.
Hours passed or maybe minutes. Time was strange here. Then, as they reached the ridge, the trees thinned, and the world opened beneath them.
Melody stopped dead.
The sight stole her breath.
A vast valley sprawled below, blanketed in silver forests and black stone peaks. Rivers gleamed like molten stars, threading through the land in veins of light. Far in the distance, ruins shimmered beneath the moon's towers half-broken but still reaching for the heavens.
Asha's lips parted in a soft exhale. "Vaeloria," she whispered. "The heart of our realm."
Kael gave a crooked grin, though he couldn't hide the awe in his voice. "Didn't think I'd ever see it again."
Melody's eyes shone, the reflection of the moons flickering in them. "This is the werewolf realm?"
Lucien turned toward her, the wind catching his dark hair. His voice was quiet but carried through the chill. "Vaeloria. Once the kingdom of the moonborn. Now what's left of it."
The beauty of it was haunting. Ancient bridges arched over misty abysses. Pale lights moved through the ruins like spirits remembering their homes. The stars above felt closer here, heavy and watchful, as if they too were part of the curse.
Melody stepped forward slowly, her heart racing.
"This feels familiar," she said, almost to herself. "Like I've walked here before."
Lucien's gaze followed her, unreadable. "You have."
Her hand brushed her neck, the crescent mark pulsed once, faint and warm beneath her skin.
Asha noticed it and tensed. "Lucien… her mark."
It shimmered softly, a glow that seemed to hum in tune with the realm itself.
Melody pressed her palm over it. "It's reacting to something."
"The heart of Vaeloria," Lucien said, voice low. "It recognizes her."
"The altar," Asha murmured. "It's waking."
Darian stepped closer, his expression grim. "If the altar stirs, the Hollow won't be far behind."
Melody looked between them, confusion and unease twisting in her chest. "What does that mean?"
Lucien met her gaze. "It means the goddess who cursed you has felt your return."
The wind seemed to shift, colder now, carrying a distant echo like a sigh that had waited centuries to be heard.
Melody stared down into the mist-choked valley, where the ruins glimmered faintly like bones beneath moonlight. Somewhere down there, something ancient was stirring.
Something that remembered her.
Lucien turned to the others, his tone suddenly commanding. "We keep moving. The veil's open, but not for long."
They began their descent in silence, shadows stretching long behind them.
Melody followed, one last glance cast at the glowing horizon. The mark on her neck burned softly, in rhythm with her heartbeat
like a reminder,
or a warning.
And as the mist swallowed their path, she couldn't shake the feeling that she was walking toward a story she'd already lived once before
and hadn't survived.