Ayla followed Rhett through the thick woods. The moonlight barely cut through the branches overhead, but Rhett moved like he knew every step.
"Are you sure this isn't a trap?" she asked, voice low.
"If I wanted to hurt you, I wouldn't bring you this deep," Rhett said over his shoulder.
"Comforting," she muttered.
He glanced back at her, eyes glinting in the dark. "Just stay close."
"I'm not scared of the dark," she said.
"No," he said. "You're scared of what's hiding in it."
She didn't answer that.
Soon, they reached a narrow path between two mossy boulders. Ayla shivered as she stepped between them. The air felt... heavier.
"What just happened?" she asked, looking around.
"You crossed into Pack land," Rhett said. "It's protected. You'll feel it."
"Yeah. Like walking into a dream I didn't ask for."
Rhett stopped suddenly. "We're here."
A clearing opened ahead of them. Small cabins circled a firepit. Shapes moved in the shadows, with people watching.
Ayla tensed. "They don't look happy to see me."
"They're not. You're marked."
"You say that like it's my fault."
"It isn't. But it's still a problem."
A woman stepped forward from the shadows. Tall. Braided hair. Sharp eyes.
"Mira," Rhett said. "This is Ayla."
"So I guessed," Mira said, looking Ayla up and down. "She smells like old stories and bad luck."
"Excuse me?" Ayla bristled.
"You're not what I expected," Mira said.
"Thanks. I get that a lot."
Rhett cut in. "She stays. The mark's on her. The forest chose."
Mira's face tightened. "Then let's hope the forest knows what it's doing."
Ayla whispered, "Do all your friends greet people like this?"
"They're not used to outsiders," Rhett said. "And you're not just any outsider."
She sighed. "Great. I'm special."
They walked toward a cabin near the edge of the clearing. It was quiet, with a warm light flickering inside.
"This was your grandmother's," Rhett said as he pushed open the door. "We kept it the way she left it."
Ayla stepped inside. Dust. Wood. Smoke. Her chest tightened. "I haven't been here since I was a kid."
"Then this belongs to you now."
She glanced around. Then stopped.
"What is that?" she asked.
On the table sat a yellowed envelope. Her name written across the front in neat, slanted handwriting.
Ayla's knees went weak. "That's her writing."
Rhett stepped beside her. "What?"
"She left me a letter…"
With shaking hands, Ayla opened it and pulled out the folded parchment inside. She read aloud:
"My sweet Ayla,
If you are reading this, I'm already gone. Do not be afraid.
The mark found you, as I always knew it would.
The blood debt lives on in our family. You carry it now.
Do not trust the town. Seek the Alpha, he holds the rest of the truth.
And when the red moon rises, remember:
You are a Thorn. A keeper of the wild. A bridge between the cursed and the free."
Ayla stared at the letter. "She knew this was going to happen. She knew I'd be marked."
Rhett took the letter from her gently. "She always knew more than she let on."
"She says you know the truth."
"I know part of it," he said. "And I think it's time you did too."
"Start talking," Ayla said. "Because I'm tired of half-answers."
Rhett sat down across from her. "Your grandmother was part of our circle. She helped us keep the balance between the Pack and the town."
"What kind of balance?"
"There's an old bond between certain bloodlines. Yours. Mine. Others. It kept the wild things in check."
Ayla folded her arms. "And this... blood debt?"
"When one bloodline breaks the pact, another must pay the price. That's the rule."
"So my family screwed something up, and now I'm cursed?"
"Not cursed," Rhett said softly. "Chosen."
Ayla laughed bitterly. "Oh good. That makes it so much better."
He leaned forward. "I know this is a lot. But your grandmother believed you were the one who could fix things."
"She never told me any of this."
"She was trying to protect you."
"Well, that worked out great," Ayla snapped, holding up her marked hand. "Because now I'm glowing."
"It'll fade," Rhett said. "For now."
She looked up. "What happens when the red moon rises?"
"Everything changes," he said. "The veil between worlds thins. The bond calls stronger. Old debts come due."
"Are you always this dramatic?"
"I'm not joking."
Ayla looked into the fire. "So what now?"
"You stay here," he said. "Train. Learn. We prepare for what's coming."
"I'm not a warrior."
"You don't have to be one. You just have to survive long enough to remember who you are."
She turned to him. "And who am I?"
Rhett's gaze was steady. "You're Ayla Thorn. The last of a wild bloodline. And you're stronger than you think."
She looked down at her marked hand. "You really think I can do this?"
"I do," he said. "And you won't be alone."
Ayla blinked. "You'll help me?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
Rhett paused. Then said, "Because your grandmother saved my life once. And because... I think fate brought you back for a reason."
A long silence stretched between them.
"Also," Rhett added, "you're stubborn. That helps."
Ayla gave a small laugh. "So are you."
He smiled. "I take that as a compliment."
Outside, a howl cut through the trees. Low. Echoing.
Rhett stood. "That's not one of ours."
Ayla grabbed the letter. "What is it?"
"Trouble," he said, heading for the door.
"Of course it is," Ayla muttered, following him into the night.