Seraphina's POV
The thorns were moving.
I snatched my hand back, heart hammering. The Thornwall wasn't supposed to do that. It was supposed to kill me. Rip me apart. End this nightmare quickly.
Instead, the massive thorns twisted and shifted like living snakes, creating an opening wide enough to walk through.
No, I whispered. This is wrong.
But the doorway stayed open. Waiting.
I looked back at the wasteland behind me—six weeks of starvation, dog attacks, and slow dying. Then at the impossible opening in front of me.
The wall was inviting me in.
My survival instincts screamed that this was a trap. Nothing good came from magic this powerful. The kingdoms had spent three hundred years teaching that the Wildlands corrupted everything it touched.
But I'd also spent six weeks learning that everything the kingdoms taught me was a lie.
I stepped through.
The thorns closed behind me immediately, slamming shut with a sound like breaking bones. I spun around, but there was no doorway anymore. Just solid wall.
No going back now.
I turned to face the Wildlands and froze.
It was beautiful.
Not the careful, controlled beauty of the palace gardens where every flower was placed perfectly. This was wild beauty—raw and alive in a way that made my breath catch.
Massive trees stretched toward the sky, their branches so thick they blocked most of the sunlight. Moss covered everything in shades of green I'd never seen before. Flowers bloomed in impossible colors—purple so bright it hurt to look at, blue that seemed to glow.
The air itself felt different. Heavier. Like it was watching me.
I took a step forward. Then another.
The forest moved.
Trees leaned aside, their branches shifting to create a clear path. Bushes pulled back their thorns. Even the moss seemed to ripple, pointing me deeper into the woods.
Okay, I said to the empty forest. This is definitely a trap.
But what choice did I have? Standing still wouldn't help.
I followed the path the forest made for me.
Animals watched from the shadows. I spotted glowing eyes—too many to count. Wolves, maybe. Or bears. Things that could kill me easily.
But they just watched. None attacked.
My neck prickled with the constant feeling of being observed. Not just by animals. By something bigger. Something that made the air hum with the same magic I'd felt at the Thornwall.
If you're going to kill me, I called out, just do it already. I'm tired of waiting.
The forest didn't answer. It just kept making a path for me, leading me deeper.
I walked for what felt like hours. My feet ached in the remains of my shoes—barely more than scraps of leather now. My stomach growled with familiar hunger. At least in the wasteland, I'd known what to expect. This felt like walking into a predator's mouth and waiting for it to bite down.
Then I heard water.
A stream cut through the trees ahead, the water so clear I could see rocks on the bottom. My throat burned with thirst. I'd learned not to trust anything in the wasteland, but this water looked safe. Clean.
I dropped to my knees beside the stream and cupped water in my hands, drinking desperately. It tasted better than anything I'd ever had at royal banquets—cold and sweet and perfect.
I was gulping down my third handful when the burning started.
Pain exploded across my right arm—hot and sharp like someone was branding my skin. I screamed and jerked back from the water, clutching my arm.
Silver light glowed beneath my skin.
I watched in horror as marks appeared on my forearm. They looked like writing in a language I'd never seen—flowing symbols that seemed to move and shift. They spread up my arm toward my shoulder, each new mark burning as it formed.
Stop! I clawed at my arm, trying to wipe them off. Stop, stop, stop!
They didn't stop.
The marks spread to my other arm. Down my wrists. Across my hands. Silver symbols covering my skin, glowing brighter with each second.
The pain was unbearable. Like fire in my veins. Like my blood was boiling.
I fell sideways, screaming, thrashing on the ground. Trying to escape pain that came from inside my own body.
Through the agony, I felt something else. Something waking up deep in my chest—a presence that had been sleeping my whole life. Power that didn't belong to a human.
Make it stop, I begged through tears. Please, please make it stop.
The marks reached my shoulders. Started spreading across my collarbones.
My vision went white with pain. I couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. Could only feel the burning and the terrible awakening of something I didn't understand.
Then I heard it.
Footsteps. Heavy. Deliberate. Coming closer.
Through my blurred vision, I saw a shape approaching. Massive. Moving on four legs.
A wolf.
But wrong. Too big. Eyes that glowed amber in the shadows, watching me with intelligence that made my skin crawl.
I tried to move, to run, but my body wouldn't obey. The pain had me pinned to the ground.
The wolf stopped a few feet away. It tilted its head, studying me like I was a puzzle it needed to solve.
Then its bones started cracking.
I watched in frozen horror as the wolf's body shifted. Changed. Grew. Bones breaking and reforming. Fur disappearing into skin.
A man rose where the wolf had been.
Tall. Powerfully built. Bare-chested with strange marks covering his neck and arms—marks that looked like the ones burning into my skin. His eyes still glowed amber, inhuman and terrifying.
He knelt beside me, reaching for my marked arms.
I tried to pull away but couldn't move.
His fingers touched the glowing symbols on my skin.
The pain stopped instantly.
I gasped, sucking in air, my whole body shaking.
The man's eyes met mine. His voice was rough, like he didn't use it often. You crossed the Thornwall.
I couldn't speak. Could barely breathe.
The land let you through. He traced one of the silver marks on my arm. Where he touched, electricity shot through my skin. You're marked. The land chose you.
Chose me for what? I managed to whisper.
His amber eyes burned into mine with an intensity that made my heart stutter.
For me. You're my mate.