Chapter 1 #2
The thought sent a familiar ache through her chest. All these years spent trying to earn her mother's attention, of being the responsible one, the caretaker, the daughter who stayed.
Always the odd one out, especially after David came into their lives when Allegra was born.
Four years of watching them be a real family while she orbited the edges.
Then one fight about money and he was gone—no goodbye, no explanation.
June shattered, and suddenly Briar was needed again. Needed, but never quite seen.
She should have left when she turned eighteen like any normal person. She should have gone to college somewhere far away, built a life that didn't revolve around managing her mother's fragile mental state.
But she couldn't. Not when Allegra needed her and she was the only thing standing between her little sister and June's cycles of neglect and overwhelming guilt.
Briar had even swallowed her pride when Allegra got sick, calling David's old number, leaving messages.
His actual daughter was dying and he couldn't even text back.
The familiar landmarks began to appear. The rusted mailbox that marked the Henderson property, the burned-out shell of an old barn, the sharp curve where the mountain dropped away into shadow.
Twenty-five years. Her mother had spent twenty-five years spinning tales about this place, about bargains made in blood and shadow.
Briar had driven to the only location that made sense, the exact spot where their car had careened off the highway, where her father died and her mother claimed to have been saved.
The forest loomed before her, ancient Hemlocks standing sentinel against intrusion into their shadow realm.
Behind them, old growth maples and black cottonwoods stretched skyward, their branches twisted into arthritic claws that seemed poised to snatch any soul foolish enough to venture close.
The sensation of being watched pressed against Briar's skin, raising goosebumps despite the afternoon warmth.
Even with the sun hanging high, the space beyond the tree line swallowed light whole. Darkness pooled between the trunks, thick and viscous. The wrongness of it churned in her stomach with each breath of too-sweet air that drifted from the depths.
The memorial cross tilted at a drunken angle, white paint flaking away.
Offerings littered the ground around it—plastic flowers bleached colorless by sun, a moldering teddy bear, rain-warped photographs.
The inscription carved into the wood had weathered but remained legible: Stars Cannot Shine Without Darkness.
Briar traced the letters with trembling fingers, the rough grain catching at her skin.
"I wish you were here, Dad." The words scraped past the tightness in her throat.
"Mom says you always had the answers, that you could find light in anything.
I try, but lately..." She pressed her palm flat against the wood. "I can't do this alone anymore."
Tears blurred her vision before she realized she was crying. She swiped at them roughly, angry at her own weakness. "Sorry. I promised Allegra I'd be strong. She's dying, Dad. The doctors don't know why. And Mom thinks—God, she actually believes something in these woods can save her."
The silence stretched between her words and the empty air, broken only by the distant call of a crow and the whisper of pine needles overhead.
Briar pressed her forehead against the weathered wood of the cross, breathing in the scent of old rain and decay.
Part of her wanted to stay here forever, suspended in this moment where she could pretend her father might actually answer, where the weight of impossible choices didn't crush down on her shoulders.
But Allegra was waiting, and time was a luxury they'd already run out of.
So she straightened, wiping the last of the tears from her cheeks, and turned toward the forest that had haunted her mother's stories for as long as she could remember.
Wind erupted from nowhere, violent and purposeful.
Autumn leaves whirled up in a cyclone of crimson and gold, whipping her hair across her face.
The trees groaned, bending away from something she couldn't see.
Through the chaos of debris and shadow, movement flickered at the forest's edge—a figure dissolving back into darkness before her eyes could focus.
Her heart slammed against her ribs. The wind pulled at her clothes, her hair, trying to drag her toward the trees. Yet the forest itself remained still, untouched by the gale that battered everything else. The wrongness of it made her teeth ache.
Cold bloomed in her chest, spreading through her veins. She stumbled back toward her car, but the wind died as suddenly as it had risen. In its wake, the scattered leaves had arranged themselves into a perfect path leading directly to the tree line.
"You're losing it." She kicked at the leaves, sending them flying. They swirled through the air, then settled back into the exact same pattern. She kicked them again. Same result. The path reformed with mechanical precision, as though it were waiting.
Her keys weren't in her pocket.
Panic flared as she searched the ground around the memorial, dropped to her knees to comb through dead grass and gravel. Nothing. She'd had them just minutes ago, had used them to drive here, had—
A metallic jingle drew her attention to the forest edge. There, glinting in a shaft of reluctant sunlight, her keys dangled from a low branch just past the tree line.
Every instinct screamed danger. Keys didn't move on their own. Leaves didn't form paths. Wind didn't blow in only one direction. But Allegra's face swam before her, pale and fading, and her mother's desperate words echoed: Find him. Beg if you must.
She approached the forest edge slowly, each step a betrayal of common sense. Just grab the keys. Three seconds. In and out.
Her foot crossed the threshold between sunlight and shadow.
The world lurched sideways. Temperature plummeted twenty degrees in an instant, her breath misting in air gone thick and syrupy.
The stench hit her—rot and green growth and something sickly sweet that coated the back of her throat.
Above, branches knitted together with deliberate intent, weaving a canopy that devoured light.
Her keys had vanished from the branch.
She spun back toward the road, but vertigo sent her stumbling. The highway shimmered and warped, her car a distant smudge of color through bending air. She took a step toward it and found herself exactly where she'd started.
A branch snapped in the underbrush. Heavy and deliberate.
Bear, her panicked mind supplied. Black bears were common here. Make noise, make yourself big, back away slowly. But when she opened her mouth to yell, only a whisper emerged, the sound swallowed by oppressive quiet.
Another crack echoed through the trees, this one sharper, closer. To her left.
Briar's breath caught as she slowly turned her head. Nothing but shadows and the gentle sway of branches. But the forest had gone unnaturally quiet. There was no birdsong, no rustle of small creatures in the underbrush. Even the wind had stilled.
Movement flickered in her peripheral vision. To her right.
Her pulse hammered against her ribs as she whipped around, but again found only empty forest. Whatever was out there was staying just beyond the edge of sight, circling her with predatory patience.
The rational part of her mind whispered that it could be deer, or elk disturbed by her presence.
But bears didn't hunt in coordinated pairs, and deer didn't move with such deliberate stealth.
Another branch snapped. Behind her this time.
Terror flooded her system, washing away all pretense of calm. Whatever was stalking her through these woods, she didn't want to meet it face to face.
She ran.
Thorns tore at her jacket like eager fingers. Branches whipped across her face, leaving lines of fire. Behind her, something crashed through the underbrush, not chasing but herding, driving her deeper into the green maze.
The ground betrayed her with every step, soft needles giving way to hidden roots, moss-slick stones, holes that seemed to open beneath her feet. Her breathing came in ragged gasps that burned, the too-thick air drowning her lungs.
Whatever it was, it was toying with her. The very idea sent fresh terror through her veins. Whatever pursued her could have caught her easily. This, she realized, was sport.
The toe of her sneaker caught in the curve of a root, sending her sprawling. Her palms scraped raw against bark, knee striking something sharp enough to tear through denim. She rolled, scrambling backward, expecting to see a bear or maybe a mountain lion preparing to attack.
But there was nothing.
Silence fell with crushing weight, her own harsh breathing was muffled, absorbed by trees that seemed to watch her. She pushed to her feet on shaking legs, turning in a slow circle.
Empty forest stretched endlessly in every direction, each tree identical to its neighbor. Waiting.
"Lost already, little thief?"
The voice poured through the silence, smooth and dark, laced with amusement. It came from everywhere and nowhere, rising from the earth itself.
"Who's there?" She hated how her voice cracked.
Shadows moved wrong in the corner of her eye, too fluid for darkness, and she whirled toward it, finding only empty spaces between trees that somehow seemed deeper than before.
"People know where I am. They’ll come looking if I’m not back soon."
Laughter rolled through the forest, low and rich, raising every hair on her body. "Liar."
He didn't step from behind a tree. He materialized from the forest itself, shadow becoming solid, bark becoming skin, green growth becoming fabric.
Tall and lean and moving with liquid grace that belonged to nothing human.
His clothes seemed cut from midnight and moss, shifting between states, as though reality were unable to pin down what he was.
Long white hair threaded with small bones and living vines framed a face that hurt to look at. It was too beautiful to be human, too perfect to be safe. Angular cheekbones, skin pale and luminous, and a mouth set in a smile that was too sharp to be anything but cruel.
But his eyes. God, his eyes. Deep water green with gold flickering in their depths, ancient and patient and hungry. They fixed on her with the interest of a predator who already knew how the hunt would end.
"Who are you?" The words emerged barely above a whisper.
He began to circle her, and she found herself turning to track his movement. Where his feet touched earth, flowers bloomed in fast-forward: birth to death in seconds. Vines reached toward him, leaves unfurled at his passing.
"I am Eliam." The name rolled off his tongue with power that could reshape reality. "Lord of this realm. Master of the Wild Hunt. King of Shadows and Growing Things." His smile revealed teeth just slightly too sharp to be human. "And you... you're finally here."
"I don't—what do you want?"
"Want?" He moved closer, and she fought the urge to retreat.
This close, she could smell him—dark earth and green growth and something wild that made her mouth water even as her mind screamed danger.
"You stumbled into my forest, little thief.
Crossed my threshold uninvited. Took what was mine.
" His gaze dropped pointedly to her empty hands.
"The question is: what do you want badly enough to risk the consequences? "
"My keys. I just need my keys. My sister is sick—"
"Dying." The word fell soft and gentle between them. "Yes, I know. Death and desperation cling to your skin." He reached out, fingers hovering near her cheek without touching. The almost-contact sent electricity skittering across her nerves. "Just like your mother, all those years ago."
Ice flooded her veins. "How do you know about my mother?" Even as she asked, Briar knew the answer, even if she couldn’t bring herself to acknowledge it.
"She bled into my earth. Fractured spine, punctured lung, life draining out with each heartbeat.
" His hand dropped, and where he'd almost touched, her skin burned cold.
He sighed in the way a person might when recalling a fond memory.
"She begged so prettily. For her life… and for yours.
" Something dark flickered across his perfect features.
"Debts were made. Promises spoken. Did she tell you that part of her fairy tale? "
"You're insane."
"Am I?" He gestured lazily, and the dead oak beside them exploded into bloom.
Flowers bloomed in impossible colors that had no name with perfume so intense it made her dizzy.
"Your sister lies dying of no earthly illness.
Your mother sends you to find someone who doesn't exist. And yet you still refuse to believe what is right in front of you. .."
“Because this is—you can’t be real.”
He smiled again, and she saw the inhuman grace of it, the predatory beauty. "Is that so? Here you are. Here I am. What proof do you need, little thief?"
Every rational explanation her mind scrambled for, hallucination, drugs, elaborate hoax, crumbled against the reality of those impossible flowers, their scent making her thoughts swim.
"If you're real," she said, forcing the words through grit teeth, "if you're what she thinks you are, can you help Allegra?"
"Of course…”
Briar’s heart skipped.
“But everything has a price in my realm."
He stepped closer and she stumbled back, her mind barely registering the movement until rough bark scraped against her shirt.
She glanced over her shoulder at the massive trunk now pressed against her back.
When had that gotten there? The tree hadn't been behind her moments ago—she was certain of it.
When she turned back, he had closed the distance between them, suddenly near enough that she found herself trapped. The bark felt warm through her shirt, something vast and alive breathing beneath the surface.
"Magic flows both ways across a bargain," he said, his voice low and measured. "The question is..."
He leaned in, lips nearly brushing her ear. His breath was cool against her skin, carrying the scent of rain and dark promises. Her traitorous body shivered, caught between terror and something else entirely.
"What are you willing to sacrifice?"
The words hung between them, heavy with implication. Around them, the forest held its breath, waiting for her answer. Waiting to see what price she'd pay for love.