Chapter 4 VOICES IN THE FOG

The fog crept like fingers over the forest floor, curling through roots and fallen leaves, chilling the air until Lyra's breath came out in small white clouds. Her skin prickled, and her hand tightened on the hilt of her blade. The mist seemed alive. It moved with purpose, as if it had eyes and a mind of its own.

"Lyra... come to me..."

The voice again. Soft. Familiar. It wrapped around her like a blanket from a forgotten time.

Her mother had been dead for years.

Kael stepped in front of her, body tense, eyes glowing faintly gold. "Don't listen to it."

Lyra blinked. "You heard it too?"

"Only a whisper. It speaks to you directly. That's dark magic. Old magic."

She shook her head, backing up. "But that was her voice, Kael. I know it. I would swear on my life."

He didn't move. "That's the point. It wants you to follow. That's how it hunts."

A shriek pierced the air to their right. Not animal. Not human.

Something in between.

Kael spun toward the sound. Lyra flinched.

"What was that?"

"Not of this pack," he said grimly. "And not friendly."

Another whisper floated through the fog, this time deeper, more guttural. Then a series of clicks, like claws on bone.

Kael grabbed her wrist. "We move. Now."

They ran.

The woods warped as the fog thickened. Trees looked older. Gnarled, twisted like hands reaching for the sky. The very ground felt unstable.

"This isn't the same forest," Lyra said between breaths.

Kael grunted. "It shifts. Territory magic. The Hunt distorts the woods to test outsiders. It's not supposed to do this, though."

"You mean it's changing too fast?"

"No. I mean it's not supposed to be able to speak to you."

They reached a clearing where the fog was thinner. A stream cut through the earth, gurgling softly.

Kael crouched and dipped his hand into the water. Then he cursed and pulled it back.

His palm smoked.

Lyra stared. "It's burning you?"

"Witch's veil. Hexed stream. That means someone powerful is interfering."

She shivered. "So this is more than just the Hunt."

He met her eyes. "You were never meant to survive this. Not by the pack and not by whoever is summoning the voices."

*********

Flashback:

A little girl stands in the middle of a meadow, clutching a silver locket. Her mother, a pale woman with haunting green eyes, kneels before her.

"If you ever hear my voice when I'm gone," she says, brushing Lyra's hair, "don't follow it. It won't be me."

"But why?"

Her mother's eyes darken. "Because when the blood moon comes, the dead don't rest."

Back in the forest, Lyra gasped.

"My mother warned me about this."

Kael raised a brow. "Warned you about the fog?"

"About hearing her voice after she was gone. She said... she said not to follow."

Kael tensed. "Then she knew."

"Knew what?"

"That you were Moon-Blessed."

The word echoed between them.

"You keep saying that," Lyra said. "What does it actually mean?"

Kael stood, muscles coiled. "It means your bloodline is ancient. Sacred. Dangerous. It means you were born with a dormant power tied to the moon. Every supernatural being can sense it. That's why the forest is reacting to you."

"But I'm not a wolf."

"No. You're something else. And that scares them."

She swallowed. "Scares you?"

Kael looked away.

"Yes."

Suddenly, a shadow darted across the clearing.

Kael pushed Lyra behind him. "Stay low."

A massive shape exploded from the trees.

Not a wolf.

It stood upright, with limbs too long and eyes too many. Skin like rotting bark. Its mouth split open sideways, rows of needle-like teeth gleaming.

"What in hell is that?" Lyra whispered.

"A Hollow. A corrupted spirit. They don't belong here."

"Then how is it here?"

Kael didn't answer. He shifted mid-sprint.

Fur. Claws. Fangs. A monstrous black wolf tackled the creature mid-air, snapping its neck in one bite.

It vanished in smoke.

Lyra fell to her knees.

Kael shifted back. "That was a message."

"From who?"

He looked toward the mountain ridge.

Toward the ruins no one ever dared to speak of.

"The Hollow Queen."

Lyra blinked. "That sounds made up."

Kael's expression turned to stone. "Pray it is."

**************

Back at Crimson Night Stronghold

Cira stood in front of the scrying mirror, watching the fog twist on the surface.

Elder Thorne entered behind her, staff tapping the stone floor.

"She survived the ambush," Cira said tightly.

"Even the Hollow."

Thorne smiled. "She was never meant to die, Beta. Only to awaken."

"The Alpha won't let her go."

"He may not have a choice. The prophecy is unfolding. The girl must choose a side."

Cira glanced over her shoulder. "And if she chooses wrong?"

Thorne's eyes gleamed. "Then we all burn."

**********

Back at the Temporary Shelter in the Deep Woods

Lyra sat by a small fire Kael built with claw and flint. Her arm throbbed from the earlier bite, and she held it close.

"You should sleep," Kael said, watching the trees.

"Can't."

"The pain?"

She shook her head. "The voice. What if it comes again?"

"Then I'll be here."

She looked at him. "Why are you helping me now? You rejected me."

He was quiet for a long moment.

"Because I didn't expect to feel anything. But I do. And I hate it."

"What do you feel?"

Kael didn't answer.

He moved closer instead.

Not touching. Just near enough for her to feel the warmth of him.

Her breath hitched.

"You're scared of me," she whispered.

"I'm scared of what you could become."

She reached out, barely touching his hand.

"Then stay close. Help me figure it out."

His eyes dropped to their hands. Then, reluctantly, he laced his fingers through hers.

"One night," he said. "Then we see."

Just beyond the tree line, hidden in shadow, something watched them.

It didn't breathe.

It didn't move.

But its eyes burned red.

And it whispered in an ancient tongue,

"A spell long forbidden"

A call to awaken an old enemy

One that wore Lyra's face