The transition from the beautiful Shadow City to the edge of the Dead Forest was like moving from a dream into a nightmare. As we descended the eastern slopes, the air turned gray and heavy. The trees here didn't have leaves; their branches were twisted and black, reaching upward like the skeletal fingers of a drowning man.
Silas kept his hand locked in mine. He was still pale, but the golden light I had shared with him seemed to have given him a second wind.
"Stay close to me, Elara," he warned. "The Dead Forest doesn't just kill you. it tries to trick you. It feeds on your memories and your fears."
I looked back at the mountain one last time. The Shadow City was still burning with blue ice-fire in the distance. My heart ached for the people I had just met, but the pulse in my stomach—the tiny, golden heartbeat—reminded me why I had to keep moving.
"Why wouldn't they follow us here?" I asked, stepping over a log that crumbled into black dust under my foot.
"Because the Dead Forest is a 'null' zone," Silas explained. "It dampens the scent of werewolves. Thorne and the King of the North rely on their noses to hunt. Here, they are as blind as humans. But it also means your fire and my shadows will be harder to call upon."
We walked for hours. The mist was so thick I could barely see my own feet. Every time a branch snapped, I jumped, thinking it was a Frost-Dragon or a Blackwood warrior.
Suddenly, the mist shifted.
"Elara..." a voice whispered.
I froze. It wasn't Silas's voice. It was deep, rough, and familiar.
"Thorne?" I gasped, turning around.
Standing in the mist was Thorne. But he didn't look like the angry Alpha who had trapped us in the cave. He looked tired. He looked... regretful. He was reaching out to me, his golden eyes full of tears.
"Elara, I'm so sorry," the image of Thorne said. "I didn't mean to reject you. I was scared. Come back to the pack. I'll protect you and the baby. We can be a family."
My heart squeezed. For a split second, I wanted to run to him. I wanted the nightmare to be over. I wanted the man I used to love to be real.
"Thorne?" I took a step toward him.
"Elara, no!" Silas's voice cracked like a whip, but he sounded miles away.
The image of Thorne smiled, but as he got closer, his face began to melt. His skin turned into black mud, and his golden eyes became empty, dark holes. The "Thorne" I saw wasn't a man at all—it was a Spirit-Eater, a creature that takes the shape of your heart's desire to lure you into its mouth.
I tried to scream, but the mist filled my throat. The creature lunged, its muddy claws reaching for my stomach.
Suddenly, a silver arrow whistled through the air, hitting the creature right between its hollow eyes. The Spirit-Eater exploded into a cloud of foul-smelling smoke.
"Idiots," a new voice called out.
Out of the trees stepped a woman. She was short, covered in scars, and wore a necklace made of werewolf teeth. She carried a bow carved from white bone. She didn't look like a Royal, and she definitely wasn't a member of a pack.
"You're lucky I was hunting nearby," the woman said, spitting on the ground. "These woods love the taste of pregnant Royals. You're like a lighthouse in the dark."
Silas stepped in front of me, his claws extended. "Who are you?"
The woman laughed, a dry, raspy sound. "Relax, Shadow-Walker. I'm a rogue. A real one. Not like your fancy guards in the city. My name is Nyx, and I'm the one who's going to keep you alive—for a price."
"We don't have any money," I said, clutching my cloak.
Nyx looked at my stomach and smirked. "I don't want money, Princess. I want the first drop of blood from that child when it's born. That blood is the only thing that can break the curse on this forest and let us rogues go free."
Silas growled, a sound so deep it made the ground shake. "Touch her and I'll end you."
"Save the growling for the guest who just arrived," Nyx said, pointing her bow toward the path behind us.
The mist parted again. This time, it wasn't a spirit.
Thorne stepped out of the shadows. The real Thorne. He was covered in scratches from the cave collapse, and his clothes were torn to shreds. He looked like he had run across the entire world to find us.
He didn't look at Silas. He didn't look at Nyx. His eyes went straight to my stomach.
"It's mine, isn't it?" Thorne asked. His voice was trembling—not with anger, but with a terrifying, obsessive hunger. "The bond... I felt it snap back into place the moment the child's heart started beating. You're carrying my heir, Elara."
He took a step forward, his Alpha aura flaring so bright it pushed back the mist of the forest.
"I don't care about the North. I don't care about the Shadow King," Thorne growled, his eyes turning a predatory gold. "That baby is a Blackwood Alpha. And I am taking my family home."
Nyx raised her bow. Silas called up his remaining shadows. Thorne began to shift, his bones cracking loudly in the silence of the Dead Forest.
I stood between the three of them, my hand on my stomach. I felt a kick—not a soft one, but a sharp, powerful strike of gold and fire.
The baby wasn't afraid. And neither was I.
"Stay back!" I warned, and the ground beneath Thorne's feet began to turn into molten glass.