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Garrick grinned, slow and venomous. His hair was longer now, tangled with twigs and bone beads. Magic clung to him like a second skin—feral, corrupted, wild.

“Funny,” he said. “That’s what I told myself when I left this cursed place.”

Rollo moved closer, eyes locked on the other man’s twisted shape, the heat of his own magic starting to burn under his skin. “Why come back then? Why poison the land? What do you want?”

Garrick tilted his head, hair matted and shadowed eyes gleaming. His smile was thin, ugly.

“What was always mine,” he hissed. “Respect. Fear. And her.”

The words landed like a punch to the gut.

Something in Rollo cracked—low and hard in his chest.

“You don’t say her name.”

Garrick chuckled, slow and deliberate, like a wolf savoring the kill. “Didn’t need to. You brought her up all by yourself.”

Rollo’s fists clenched.

Garrick’s voice dropped to a mocking purr. “You think this is about you? About your little sanctuary and your oaths? No, no, Rollo. This started whenshecame back. Her magic always sang louder than yours. Alwaysfeltlike something real. Something wild.”

He stepped closer, and the ground beneath them hissed like it disagreed with his very presence.

“She was wasted here. Then she left, and I thought... fine. The forest’ll forget her.” His jaw ticked. “But it didn’t.Ididn’t.”

Rollo’s stomach turned. “You poisoned the land to bring her back.”

“I made the land scream,” Garrick said, his voice almost reverent. “Because if anything could lure her back, it’d be pain. She’s a healer, Rollo. Pain’s her beacon.”

Rollo’s rage deepened into something colder.

“Youusedthis place. You hurt Wren. Hurt the people who trusted you—just to what?Stealher back?”

Garrick’s grin twisted further. “I never had her, not really. You did. But she looked at me once, you know. Back then. At the equinox fire. I caught her staring, just a little too long. She liked power. And Iampower.”

“You’re rot,” Rollo growled.

“She was never bad on the eyes,” Garrick said, ignoring the insult. “But it’s not just that. She’s thekey. Her blood, her magic—it could cleanse or corrupt. Shebelongsin the wild. Not caged in that dusty apothecary like a parlor trick.”

“And you thought she’d chooseyou?” Rollo spat.

Garrick’s smile fell. “I thought she’d see I was willing toburn down the worldfor her.”

“Then you’re more gone than I thought.”

Rollo shifted mid-step—bones snapping, coat bursting through skin, his massive frame landing with a growl that rattled the trees.

Garrick was already moving, his own shift not clean—not smooth like it once had been. The corruption had changed him. His bear was thinner, gaunt around the ribs, eyes too bright with something feral.

They collided in a crash of fur and claws, tumbling through old stones and dead leaves.

Rollo hit first, driving Garrick into a fallen log with enough force to crack bark. But Garrick writhed like smoke, his clawsdragging through Rollo’s shoulder, tearing through muscle and fur alike.

Pain bloomed, white-hot. But Rollo barely registered it.

He threatened Delilah.

That thought drove him harder, snarling, snapping. His claws caught Garrick’s flank, and blood sprayed, dark and foul-smelling.