The forest stood like a dark wall at the edge of Muntenia, its branches interlocking overhead like the ribs of some great slumbering beast. The morning light barely touched the ground beneath the pines; the shadows there were thick, old, and strangely unmoving.
Sophia hesitated at the tree line.
Darian didn't.
He walked ahead with a controlled, almost silent stride, every step betraying more of what he truly was—even if he still refused to name it. Sophia watched the way he moved: how the forest seemed to part for him, how the snow hardly crunched under his boots, how even the cold wind shifted around his shoulders instead of against them.
It was like the woods recognized him.
"Stay close," he said, not turning.
"I am."
"Closer."
She took a few steps until she was nearly beside him. His hand brushed hers—accidental, but grounding.
The deeper they walked, the quieter the forest became.
No birds.No crackling branches.No whisper of wind.
Just breath.Just heartbeats.
Just them.
Sophia rubbed her arms. "It feels… wrong."
"It's supposed to," Darian said. "This part of the forest is claimed."
"Claimed by what?"
He paused, eyes narrowing at a set of faint tracks branching off the path.
"Not what," he murmured. "Who."
Sophia felt a chill slip down her spine.
He knelt beside the tracks—large, claws dragging through the snow, but not like the creatures from last night. These were different. More deliberate. Slower.
"Something was here recently," he said. "Watching the house."
Sophia swallowed. "Why? What do they want from me?"
"That's what we're going to find out."
They continued deeper, the shadows tightening. The trees grew older here—gnarled trunks, bark split in long, deep grooves like scars.
After several minutes, a faint shape appeared between the trees. Sophia slowed.
It was a stone archway.
Old.Weathered.Cracked by time.Half swallowed by the forest.
Vines tangled around it like skeletal hands. Snow covered its base, but the symbols carved into the stone were unmistakable.
Sophia felt her skin prickle.
"They match the ones carved near the house," she whispered.
Darian's jaw tensed. "I know."
"What is this place?"
He didn't answer right away. Instead, he stepped beneath the arch, testing the air as though expecting it to bite. When nothing happened, he motioned for her to follow.
Sophia stepped under the archway.
The forest changed instantly.
The air grew warmer.The light dimmed.The snow thinned until patches of dark earth peeked through.
She glanced up. The sky was no longer winter-gray—it was heavy, tinted faintly green, swirling like clouds reflected in deep water.
"What is this?" she whispered.
"A boundary," Darian said. "Between the forest you know… and the forest you were never meant to see."
Sophia's heart pounded.
"So what's on this side?"
Darian looked at her with a gravity that tightened her stomach.
"Old things," he said. "Older than this town. Older than me."
The wind shifted.
A low sound drifted through the trees—a murmur, almost like a voice humming from beneath the ground. Sophia pressed a hand to her chest, breath catching.
"I feel something."
Darian turned sharply. "Where?"
"In my ribs. Like a vibration."
He swore under his breath. "Then we're already close."
"Close to what?"
He didn't answer.He didn't have to.
Because the forest began to move.
Branches swayed though there was no wind. Snow slid off limbs with soft thumps. A shape darted between trees—too tall, too thin, too fast.
Sophia grabbed Darian's arm. "What was that?"
"One of the watchers."
"Watchers?"
He scanned the shadows. "Scouts. They mark territory. And they don't approach humans unless—"
A soft, melodic sound filled the air.
Not a growl.Not a scream.A call.
Sophia stiffened, eyes widening. "That sound— I heard it the night I arrived."
Darian's face went pale.
"Don't follow it," he said urgently.
"I'm not—"
But something tugged at her.
A gentle, invisible thread winding around her ribs, urging her forward. Her breath caught as her feet shifted on their own, drawn toward the sound.
Darian grabbed her hand.
His grip was firm, but she felt her body leaning, tempted, as though the forest were whispering to her through the wind.
"Sophia," he said, voice low but sharp. "Look at me."
She tore her gaze from the trees.
When their eyes met, the pull lessened—but didn't disappear.
"What's happening to me?" she whispered.
Darian's expression held fear for the first time since she'd met him.
"You're resonating."
"With what?"
"With the thing that chose you."
Sophia's mouth went dry.
"Is it… human?"
"No."
"Is it like you?"
His jaw tightened. "Nothing is like me."
"But you know what it is."
Darian hesitated.
Then nodded once.
"What is it?" she pressed.
He exhaled slowly, as though saying the words might summon the thing itself.
"It's the one creature I hoped you'd never meet."
Sophia felt her heart drop.
"And it's coming," Darian said.
As if on cue, the forest fell dead silent.
Then—
A distant, echoing crack—like a tree splitting in half.
Sophia flinched.
Darian stepped in front of her, muscles coiling.
"Stay behind me," he ordered.
"What is it?"
His eyes darkened.
"The Caller."
Another crack.
Closer.
Sophia grabbed his coat. "Darian—"
He reached back, squeezing her hand once.
"I won't let it take you."
The forest trembled.
A shadow moved between the trees—massive, graceful, wrong.
Sophia swallowed hard. "What does it want?"
Darian drew in a long, steady breath.
"You."