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The evening had settled soft and gold over the treetops, the hum of distant conversation from the longhouse fading into the chirr of insects and the low rustle of the wind.

Seren stood near the tree line, hands resting on her hips, as she was about to follow Hagan to the healer's building.

Threk walked up and stood beside her, unusually quiet.

He was rarely still. Always moving, talking, teasing—fidgeting with some stick or stone or thought. But now, he stared out into the darkening woods like they might whisper something back.

Seren nudged him lightly with her elbow. "Alright. Spit it out."

He blinked, startled from his thoughts. "What?"

"Something is bothering you."

Threk scratched the back of his neck, then looked down at the dirt.

"I've been thinking," he said finally.

She waited.

"Before I left to follow you," he continued. "I dropped everything. Literally. I didn't have much but I left everything behind. I never went back to my cave."

Seren just looked up at him waiting for him to continue.

"I left something. "

Sensing it was something important, Seren raised a brow, "What was it?"

There was a long pause before he answered. His voice was quieter than usual.

"A talisman. It belonged to my mother. She wore it every day until she passed. I'd been carrying it since. Kept it with me always, until..."

"Until you followed me."

Threk nodded.

Seren's brow furrowed. "You want to go get it now?"

He hesitated again. "Yeah. I think I need it back. But the caves... they're far. I have never been here to the township before. I don't think I can find my way back."

"I'll go with you," she said, without hesitating.

"No." The word came sharp. "You're not going anywhere. You know how dangerous it is. You're the reason she's coming."

Seren crossed her arms. "Then I'll find someone to go with you. Just wait. I just need to check something first."

He didn't look convinced, but he nodded .

Seren reached up and squeezed his shoulder. "You followed me two and a half years ago. Let me have your back this time, alright?"

He didn't argue, just nodded.

When she reached the healer's quarters, Hagan was already inside, sitting at Renna's bedside with arms crossed tightly. Two healers hovered nearby, whispering. Renna slept, colour returned to her cheeks, her breath soft and even.

"...not sure what is wrong," one of them murmured. "Strange. Shifters don't get sick like this. Not this fast."

"But she's recovering?" Seren interjected.

"Aye," the other healer replied. "She is resting."

Seren stayed a moment longer, watching the furrow in Hagan's brow, the way he looked down at Renna with worry. They exchanged a short nod of understanding and Seren went to find Dain to go with Threk to find his talisman.

But by the time they got there, Threk was gone.

Veyr was there, not far from the eastern path.

"He left," he said “Said something about a talisman. I told him to wait, but..."

"I'm going after him," said Seren .

Dain didn't question it. Just walked beside her, quiet, steady.

The forest was in bloom, spring draped across the branches like a painter had gone mad with colour. Sunlight filtered through leaves. Insects buzzed lazily through golden shafts of light. And yet, there was tension in the air like the forest was waiting...for what?

They passed the clearing where Seren first met Threk and then made their way up to the river bank. Then, they crossed the shallow part of the river, the water cool around their ankles.

"Where are we going?" Dain finally asked.

"The caves. Beyond the river. Over there..." Seren pointed.

The air changed as they reached the mouth of the caves—cooler, denser. Bear tracks marred the earth, and the ground was churned and broken.

"He came through," Dain murmured.

"But where is he?"

Seren crouched, fingers brushing the disturbed soil. She listened for the animals, a soft, breeze that carried into the trees. Birds fluttered. A squirrel darted away. But none answered. Only silence.

"They saw him," she mused. "I think he scared them away."

Inside, the cave was vast and black. The paw prints led into the bowels of the cave system.

The air pulsed , like the stone itself was breathing in time with the earth.

The deeper they went, the colder it became, the air feeling live a living entity with each step into the dark.

Water dripped somewhere far off, echoing through chambers unseen.

Their footsteps softened as the ground gave way to damp earth and mineral-slick stone.

A single moan echoed through the stone.

They froze and then proceeded more quickly in the gathering darkness.

The cave system sloped ever downward, carving its way beneath the hills like veins through flesh.

Somewhere below, an underground stream whispered its presence, threading through the caverns with unseen currents.

The caves extended for miles in every direction—winding, shifting, unknowable.

Some sections dipped lower still, forming a network of natural catacombs, ancient and vast.

Most of it remained unexplored.

Even the bravest of the scouts hadn't dared map the farthest reaches. Paths narrowed to cracks. Air thinned. There was no light , just an all-encompassing darkness.

Seren felt goosebumps run up her arms.—the way the stone pressed in tighter the deeper they went. The deeper they went, the colder it became. Water dripped somewhere far off, echoing. At the distance , a pale blue glow flickered.

Bioluminescent beetles shimmered on the walls .

Seren reached out, whispering to them not in words, but in instinct.

They responded—tiny lights blinking awake, pulsing like heartbeats.

Soon, the cave was awash in cold blue glow.

She whispered again, gently urging them forward, and the path lit with movement.

The ceiling sparkled like a captive night sky.

"Threk came through here," Dain said, eyes narrowed. "But where is he?"

The air grew cooler as they descended, the cave walls closing in like the ribs of some ancient beast. The tunnel sloped gradually, the stone damp beneath their boots, slick with time and secrets.

When they entered the cavern, Seren stopped cold.

It was breathtaking.

The walls glowed with a golden sheen, lit by a strange inner warmth that seemed to pulse from the stone itself.

Jagged stalactites hung like teeth from the ceiling, mirrored by spires rising from the cave floor—stalagmites that glistened, reflected perfectly in the shallow, motionless water that pooled across the cavern.

The light played tricks on her eyes, making it hard to tell where rock ended and reflection began.

They moved deeper, the air tinged with that strange mix—mint and rot. The scent stung her nose, making her stomach twist. A moan echoed low through the cavern, not loud but wrong, curling up from the stone like breath from a wounded creature.

Then they saw it .

A massive, shaggy shape slumped near the edge of the water. The golden glow made it seem surreal, almost painted into the cave itself. But as they drew near, the smell of blood struck them full in the face.

Seren cried out, running forward. "Threk!"

Blood pooled beneath him, stark red against the golden floor. A brutal slash lay open across his thick neck, the skin flayed, the wound yawning. His eyes were glassy in the low light, his maw open and slack .

Seren dropped to her knees, hands pressed to the torn flesh. "No—no, no, please—"

She called on her healing instinct, the glow pouring from her fingers, coaxing the skin to knit, cell by cell. A faint flicker of his lifeforce pulsed in the air.

"He's alive," she gasped, turning—only to find Dain was no longer there.

In his place stood a wolf. Its form was wrong. Hollow. Like something wearing a body that didn't belong to it.

Seren felt no whispers from him—only silence. A void.

Then a voice drifted from above.

"Looking for someone, little witchling ?" a voice asked from the shadows .

A woman stepped down from a stalactite like a shadow slipping into skin.

She was impossibly beautiful—just as the oracle had said.

Pale, glowing skin. Golden hair. Crimson lips like blood against snow.

She wore a fine tunic, well-made boots, and a golden chain around her neck bearing a strange pendant.

"If you mean your hound," she said, gesturing casually toward Threk, "Steine took care of him. While you were busy chasing fireflies."

Seren rose slowly "Lilja."

The woman smiled, all sharp teeth. "I prefer Lunara now. Of the Starnheim tribe. Show a little respect."

She extended a hand toward the wrong-wolf.

"This is my mate. Highclaw Steine."

"How did you get past the wards?" Seren asked.

Lilja's smile deepened.

"Oh, Seren. I don't think you quite realize where you are. You're well past the wards. The caves... they wind like rivers. You never notice the bend until the current takes you."

Her voice dropped. "You're in my land now."

Lilja stepped closer. "So here's the deal, pet. If you don't want your little bear turned into a rug, you come with me. Now. "

Seren hesitated, looking back—toward the tunnels, the direction they'd come.

"He is gone. He can't help you anymore."

But her limbs were shaking. Her gift drained. Her vision swimming.

She turned once more to Threk. Then to Lilja.

And then she followed.

Behind her, Highclaw Steine padded in silence. Seren sent out a silent prayer that Threk would survive.