Chapter 2 The Forest Knows My Name

Thalia

She had no map. No destination. No plan. Only the forest, and the bite.

Each step deeper into the woods felt like slipping further into a dream, one where nothing made sense but everything felt real. The trees loomed above her like sentinels, their trunks thick and ancient, bark gnarled and blackened with age. Roots jutted from the earth like skeletal fingers, reaching for her boots, trying to trip her, to pull her down into the cold soil.

Moonlight filtered through the canopy in shards, too weak to offer warmth or guidance. Her cloak snagged on thorns, the fabric tugging at her as if the forest itself wanted to keep her. Her breath came in soft clouds, misting the air with each exhale. The chill settled into her bones, but she didn't stop.

She couldn't stop.

Because if she did, the silence would catch up to her.

Not the peaceful kind. Not the kind that welcomed rest.

But the kind that echoed with names and pain. The kind that whispered Cassian. The kind that clawed at her ribs with words like unwanted, unworthy, unchosen.

The mark on her shoulder pulsed-a dull, persistent ache beneath the skin. She gritted her teeth against it. It was like a bruise she couldn't touch, a fire she couldn't put out.

Somewhere beyond the trees, a river babbled to itself, its voice distant and soothing. Birds shifted high in the canopy, unseen. A fox darted across her path, red and sleek, its eyes flashing gold before vanishing into the underbrush.

She didn't pause to admire it. The forest was alive, yes but life didn't always mean safety.

And Thalia didn't trust anything that could breathe anymore.

Once, she'd trusted in something pure: healing. The cool calm of salves and herbs, the quiet satisfaction of knitting wounds and easing pain. Healing had never asked for more than her hands and her heart. It had never bitten her. Never branded her.

But Cassian had.

She could still feel it, that moment. The heat of his skin. The pain as his teeth sank in. The gasp of the crowd. The instant the world changed.

Not with ceremony. Not with affection.

With instinct. Raw and consuming.

She tripped over a root hidden in the loam and fell, her knees striking earth, her hands scraping against bark and stone. Pain flared, sharp and immediate. She sucked in a breath, fighting the sob rising in her throat.

Tears burned behind her eyes. She blinked them back.

Tears were for safe places.

And there were no safe places left.

---

Cassian

He stood at the edge of the forest, long after the last trace of her scent had vanished into the trees.

The wind tugged at his cloak. Behind him, the Crescent compound lay still, the stone walls holding back the weight of the choices he hadn't made.

Roran stood beside him, silent as always, but his presence heavy with judgment.

"She's still alive," Cassian said at last, voice low.

Roran nodded slowly. "You can feel her."

"Yes."

A pause. Then: "Then why didn't you speak for her?"

Cassian's jaw tightened. He didn't answer.

"She's your mate."

"I know."

"You should've fought."

"I couldn't," he said, the words bitter on his tongue. "The Council..."

"Would've bowed," Roran growled, "if you'd roared loud enough."

Cassian flinched. Truth cut sharper than claws.

"She's safer out there."

"Bullshit."

Roran turned and walked away, boots crunching on gravel, cloak snapping in the wind.

Cassian didn't move.

Because it wasn't about her safety. Not really.

It was fear. A fear that hollowed him out even now.

Fear that when she looked at him, she'd see only the monster who bit her. The Alpha who let the Council strip her of dignity instead of claiming her with pride.

He was afraid... that she wouldn't want him anymore.

---

Thalia

By midday, her legs ached, her thighs burned, and her satchel felt like it carried stones instead of herbs and water. Hunger gnawed at her belly, but she ignored it.

She paused at a stream, knelt beside it, and cupped water in her hands. It was cold enough to sting. She drank slowly, then splashed it on her face, scrubbing away the grime and Moonridge's lingering scent.

Her reflection stared back from the rippling water. Wide brown eyes. Tangled black curls. Dirt-smudged cheeks. Lips pressed tight.

"I don't belong to him," she whispered to her reflection.

The mark on her shoulder pulsed in protest.

She stood.

And kept walking.

By dusk, the forest opened up into a clearing. Soft moss blanketed the ground, dotted with wildflowers, violet, pale blue, ghostly white. At the center stood a ring of stones, weathered and worn, as old as the forest itself. Some were carved with runes, their meanings long forgotten.

Magic stirred in the air, subtle but present. Like a hum just beyond hearing.

Every instinct told her to turn away.

But something deeper and older pulled her forward. Past caution. Past pain. Past fear.

She stepped into the circle.

The moment her boot crossed the threshold, the air changed.

It grew warmer. Softer. Safer.

Welcoming.

She sank to her knees. Exhaustion crashed over her like a wave, heavier than anything she'd felt before. Her limbs trembled. Her mind fogged.

She curled in on herself, arms wrapped tight around her body.

"Please," she whispered to the stones. "Just let me rest."

And the forest, for once, listened.

---

Unknown POV

From the shadows of the trees, a pair of golden eyes blinked.

The girl lay cradled in the ancient circle, the moss accepting her as if it had been waiting.

So this was her.

The one from the prophecy.

The healer's daughter. The marked one. The unchosen Luna.

A smile curled beneath the edge of a black hood.

Finally.

She had come to them of her own accord.

The Syndicate would want to see her. Would want to test her.

But first... he would.

He melted back into the trees, his smile growing.

Let's see what you're made of, girl.

---

Thalia

She woke to humming.

Not birdsong. Not rustling wind.

A voice.

Soft. Male. Human, maybe.

Her body tensed. She sat up quickly, hand reaching instinctively for the small dagger hidden in her boot, a gift from her mentor, sharp enough to stitch skin or slit a throat.

A figure stood at the edge of the trees, cloaked in black, hood pulled low.

She rose to her feet, blade in hand. "Who are you?"

He didn't speak. Just tilted his head, watching her with unsettling stillness.

"I asked who you are."

Still nothing.

And then, in a blur of movement, he stood before her so fast her heart jumped into her throat.

"You're not what I expected," he said, voice deep and smooth, laced with something too confident to be casual.

She didn't lower the knife. "And you're not welcome."

A slow smile. "You don't even know what you are, do you?"

"I'm no one."

"Wrong," he said, taking a slow step back. "You're everything."

She clenched her jaw. "Go."

"I'm not here for Moonridge," he said, shrugging. "That place is dust compared to what's coming."

Before she could respond, he was gone-vanishing into the forest like a ghost.

And the clearing, once warm, turned cold again.

---

Cassian

Sleep evaded him.

Every time he closed his eyes, he saw her running.

He remembered the moment before the bite, the way her scent had hit him like wildfire, how his wolf surged forward without permission. How he'd reached for her, not with hands or words, but with teeth.

The bite had sealed the bond.

But it hadn't been a choice.

And that was the problem.

He scrubbed his hands over his face, raw with guilt and longing.

He needed to find her.

Not for the Council. Not for politics. Not even to secure his claim.

But because he couldn't feel whole without her.

And somewhere deep inside, he feared the bite hadn't been the beginning.

It had been the trigger.

For something far darker than either of them understood.

---

Thalia

The man in black didn't return.

She waited until dawn, then left the stone circle behind, following a path lined with redleaf trees, the same direction he'd come from. Her pace was slower now, cautious. Not because she feared what lay ahead, but because she didn't know who she was becoming.

The forest changed as she walked. Trees thinned. The undergrowth died away. The wind sharpened.

Until the forest ended.

And she found herself at the edge of Black Hollow.

Ruins. Crumbled stone. Ancient structures overtaken by time. Vines twisted through what had once been pillars. An eerie quiet filled the space.

She stepped forward.

And the moment she crossed into the heart of the ruin, the mark on her shoulder blazed hot.

She gasped, stumbling.

Then a voice came from the shadows.

"So. The wolf-girl arrives."

A man stepped into the fading light. Silver eyes. Crossed arms. A presence like thunderclouds.

"You're late," he said.