Chapter 5 The Boundary Line

They didn't give us any kind of send-off when it was time to go.

No drums beating, no elders gathering in the square. Just Elder Corvin standing outside our door as the sun sank low in the sky, shadows stretching out long on the ground. The village looked so normal, almost peaceful, and that made everything feel worse.

My mother was right behind me, silent.

She didn't try to stop me. No arguments. Just a blank expression, as if showing any emotion might break something fragile between us. I wanted to hug her, to say something comforting. But the words just wouldn't come.

So, I followed Elder Corvin.

We walked past familiar houses, past paths I'd walked a hundred times before. But everything felt different now, like I was strolling through a memory instead of the present. People avoided us. Doors were shut. Curtains drawn. Ebonridge had already decided I wasn't one of them anymore.

The farther we went, the quieter it got.

No birds chirping. No buzzing insects. Even the wind seemed to hush, like it was listening. My chest buzzed again, that strange warmth spreading slowly beneath my skin. It wasn't painful; if anything, it felt alert, like something inside me had finally woken up.

I sensed it before I saw it.

The boundary.

Elder Corvin stopped so abruptly that I almost bumped into him. Ahead, the forest loomed thick and dark, trees packed tightly together, their branches twisted like they were hiding something important.

"This is as far as the village goes," Corvin said.

I stepped forward without thinking and then I froze.

The air pressed against me gently, like an invisible wall. Not solid, not painful...just firm. I held my breath as I reached out my hand. I couldn't see anything, but I could feel it.

On the other side of the boundary, the forest waited.

Then I noticed the eyes.

They glowed softly between the trees, amber, gold, pale silver....watching us in complete silence. My heart raced, a flutter of fear, but it didn't settle. Instead, warmth surged through me, steady and grounding.

One shape moved.

A large wolf stepped forward, bigger than the rest, his presence commanding without trying. The moonlight caught in his dark fur, revealing streaks of silver and faint scars on his muzzle. He halted just short of the boundary, standing tall and calm.

Elder Corvin stiffened beside me. "The Alpha," he murmured. "He wouldn't come unless it mattered."

The Alpha's gaze locked onto mine.

The buzzing in my chest flared, sharp and warm, like a spark of recognition. I swallowed hard, unable to look away. His eyes weren't hostile. They weren't angry.

They were... knowing.

Slowly, deliberately, the Alpha lowered his head just a bit.

Not submission.

Acknowledgment.

My breath trembled. "Why does it feel like he knows me?"

Corvin didn't respond right away. His jaw tightened as he watched the forest. "Because some bonds don't disappear," he said softly. "They just sleep."

The Alpha took a step closer, stopping just before the invisible line. I felt his presence like gravity pulling at me...gentle but impossible to ignore. Suddenly, crossing that line didn't feel like a choice I had to make.

It felt inevitable.

The forest hummed softly, like it was holding its breath.

For the first time since the Moon Stone flared beneath my hand, I wasn't afraid of what lay beyond the trees.

I was afraid of what would happen if I stayed behind.

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