Page 13 of Panther Heart's Secret Passion

She squinted at the page, then at me, like she was trying to figure out if I was lying. "Work, huh? Well, good luck. Follow the north trail out of town, but it’s a rough hike. You got gear?"

"Yeah, I’m set," I said, though her stare made me second-guess myself. "Anything I should know about the ridge?"

She hesitated, wiping her hands on her apron. "Just stick to the trail. And don’t go poking around where you’re not wanted." Before I could ask what she meant, she walked off, leaving the coffee pot on the table.

I sipped the coffee, bitter and lukewarm, and flipped through the journal again. The sketches of those half-human figures were unsettling, wolves, bears, even birds, all with human eyes. I shook it off, chalking it up to my grandfather’s weird imagination. But that pull in my chest was stronger now, like the forest itself was calling me. I paid for the coffee and headed out, ignoring the stares that followed me to the door.

The north trail was easy enough to find, a dirt path winding into the woods. The air was thick with mist, the kind that clung to your skin and made everything feel muffled. My hiking boots crunched on pine needles as I followed the journal’s map, thecoordinates burned into my head. The forest was dense, old-growth trees towering so high they blocked out the sun. Every now and then, I would catch a glimpse of movement, a deer, maybe, or just the wind, but it made my skin prickle. I had been on plenty of solo hikes, but this place felt different, like it was watching me.

After an hour, I reached a clearing where the map marked Devil’s Backbone Ridge. It was not much to look at, just a rocky outcrop jutting over a steep drop, shrouded in fog. I pulled out the journal, double-checking the coordinates. This was the spot. I stepped closer to the edge, peering down into the mist. The ground looked solid enough, but something felt off, like the air was heavier here. I knelt to examine the dirt, hoping for a clue, maybe a carving, a relic, anything to explain why my grandfather sent me here.

"Hey, you shouldn’t be here," a voice called out, sharp and low.

I spun around, heart pounding. An older woman stood at the edge of the clearing, her gray hair pulled back in a tight bun. She wore a faded jacket and carried a walking stick, but her eyes were what stopped me, wide, almost panicked, like she had seen a ghost.

"Sorry, I’m just hiking," I said, standing up. "I’m an archaeologist. Doing some research."

She took a step closer, her gaze flicking to the journal in my hand. "You look just like her," she whispered, her voice trembling. "You shouldn’t be here. Go back to town."

"Like who?" I asked, my stomach twisting. "What are you talking about?"

But she was already backing away, shaking her head. "Leave this place alone," she said, then turned and vanished into the trees.

I stood there, the journal heavy in my hands. Her words echoed in my head, but I was not about to turn back now. Whatever my grandfather wanted me to find, it was here. I took another step toward the ridge, scanning the ground for anything unusual. The mist was thicker now, curling around my ankles like it was alive. I moved closer to the edge, trying to see through the fog, when the ground beneath me shifted.

It happened fast, too fast to react. The dirt gave way, and I was falling, sliding down the steep incline. Rocks scraped my arms, my backpack snagged on a root, and I scrambled for something to grab. My hands clawed at the earth, but it crumbled under my fingers. I was going to hit the rocks below, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. My heart pounded, my vision blurring as the drop loomed closer.

A roar cut through the mist, deep and guttural, shaking the air. I barely had time to register it before a massive shape burst through the fog, a bear, huge and dark, charging straight at me. Its eyes locked on mine, wild and intense, and I braced for the end. But then, impossibly, the bear’s form shimmered, collapsing into itself. Fur became skin, claws became hands, and a man, a tall, broad man with dark eyes and no clothes, leapt toward me. His arms wrapped around me, pulling me against his chest just before I hit the rocks.

Everything fades as I hear him whisper, "I’ve got you."

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