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 pointedlyto 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.”
