Chapter 3 — Escape to the Glade

Amity

The forest unfolded before Amity like a labyrinth, its ancient trees rising as if they had been waiting centuries to trap unwary wanderers. Moonlight slid through the canopy, fractured and restless, casting shadows that twisted and curled across the underbrush like living things. The night air stung her flushed cheeks, still damp with tears she refused to acknowledge. Each step sent whispers of motion through the foliage beneath her boots, but it wasn’t the sound of the forest that kept her heart pounding. It was the storm roiling in her chest—anger, confusion, and a piercing sense of betrayal clawing for space.

Kassi’s voice haunted her, sharp and measured even when it had softened in the Hollow Keep. Always calculated. Always holding something back. Amity had learned to hear the silences between her aunt’s words, the truths buried too deep for anyone but the most determined to unearth. Tonight, though, the weight of what Kassi hadn’t said—of all the things she wouldn’t say—was unbearable. Whatever Kassi was hiding, it wasn’t just tearing the pack apart. It was tearing Amity apart.

Running wasn’t a choice; it was instinct. But even as her legs carried her deeper into the woods, she felt the pull of something more deliberate, more primal. The Moonlit Glade. It wasn’t just a place she knew—it was a place that knew her, though she couldn’t explain how. The thought of its stillness tugged at her chest, a low hum that drowned out the accusations in her head. Maybe the glade could offer something her family wouldn’t. Maybe it held answers. Or maybe it was just far enough from the Hollow Keep to let her breathe.

The brambles tore at her sleeves as she pushed through a dense tangle of undergrowth, their thorns dragging against her skin with greedy insistence. When she broke free, she stumbled into a clearing flooded with silver light, and the air seemed to shift around her. The Moonlit Glade was alive tonight. The ancient circle of moss-covered stones stood like sentinels, their surfaces veined with a faint, otherworldly glow. The hum in her chest deepened, echoing in the stillness, and the silver light that bathed the clearing felt both welcoming and unyielding.

Amity’s amber eyes drifted to the Moonstone Pendant resting against her collarbone, the faint light beneath its surface pulsing softly. Rhys had given it to her when she was small, a talisman of comfort she had once clung to after nightmares. Now its glow was unsettling, as though it had a will of its own. She pressed her fingers against the stone, seeking the reassurance it had once given her. Instead, a sudden rush of warmth seared through her palm, and the world tilted.

Visions assaulted her, sharp and merciless. A blood-red moon loomed over a forest bent and broken under its light. Wolves ran beneath it, their howls swallowed by the roar of a storm tearing the sky apart. Shadows writhed at the edges of her vision, twisting and reshaping until they formed a figure cloaked in darkness. Its hand reached out, long fingers curling toward her, and its voice—silent yet deafening—seemed to whisper her name.

The glade spun back into focus. Amity staggered backward, clutching at the pendant as though it could anchor her to reality. Her breaths came shallow and uneven, the ache in her chest almost unbearable. What was this place doing to her? What did the visions mean? The glade’s hum grew louder, more insistent, and she stumbled toward the nearest stone, bracing herself against its cool, unyielding surface. “What’s happening to me?” she whispered, her voice trembling under the weight of the unknown.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

The voice came from the shadows at the edge of the glade, smooth and low, each word curling through the air like smoke. Amity froze, her fingers instinctively tightening around the hilt of the dagger at her belt. She turned sharply toward the sound, her eyes scanning the darkness.

A figure stepped into the clearing, his movements slow and deliberate. Moonlight caught on his features—sharp cheekbones, storm-gray eyes, and a faint scar tracing the line of his jaw. His dark clothes seemed to absorb the light, leaving him half-shadowed, but there was nothing subdued about his presence. He moved like a predator, each step measured, purposeful.

“Who are you?” Amity demanded, her voice steadier than she felt. She drew the dagger, its silver blade catching the moonlight in a brief flash.

The stranger tilted his head, a faint smirk curving his lips. “You’re not great at greetings, are you?” he said, his tone light but edged with something she couldn’t quite place. “Zephyr Nyx. And you must be Amity Lycanthos.”

Her name sounded strange coming from him, spoken as if he knew it better than he should. “How do you know my name?” she asked, her voice sharp with suspicion.

“I know many things,” Zephyr replied, his gaze steady. “More, I suspect, than you’ve been told by your dear Queen.”

The mention of Kassi sent a fresh wave of anger surging through her. “If you’re here to threaten me, you’ll regret it,” she snapped, stepping forward, the dagger glinting between them.

Zephyr chuckled softly, the sound carrying no malice but an unsettling amusement. “Threaten you? No. I’m here to warn you, Amity. You’re caught in a game far more dangerous than you realize.”

“Let me guess,” she said, her tone laced with sarcasm. “You’re here to talk in riddles like everyone else?”

He studied her for a moment, his smirk fading into something softer. “Your Queen made a pact—a deal with forces she couldn’t control. And now that deal is coming due.”

The words struck like a physical blow. Amity narrowed her eyes, tightening her grip on the dagger. “What does that have to do with me?”

“Everything,” Zephyr said simply, his storm-gray eyes darkening. “You’re the price. The prophecy Kassi is so desperate to bury—it centers on you. On your blood. Your power.”

The truth clung to his words like shadows, and Amity hated how much sense they made. “You’re lying,” she said, though the tremor in her voice betrayed her resolve.

“Am I?” Zephyr stepped closer, his voice low and impossibly calm. “Tell me—have you felt it yet? The pull? The whispers? The way this place seems to come alive when you’re here?”

Her hand brushed against the pendant again, its glow brighter now, pulsing in rhythm with the glade’s hum. The cadence matched the frantic beat of her heart. She shook her head, refusing to surrender to the fear clawing at her. “That doesn’t mean—”

“It does,” he interrupted, his tone firm. “Hades marked you the moment Kassi made her pact. And now he’s coming to collect.”

The name chilled her to the bone. Hades. She had seen him at the Wolf Moon Ball—his presence suffocating, his words dripping with menace. Even then, she had felt his attention fixed on her, though she hadn’t understood why.

“Why are you telling me this?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. “If you’re working for him, why warn me?”

Zephyr’s expression softened, a flicker of something raw crossing his features before he masked it again. “Because I’ve seen what he does to people like us. To those who fight him and those who serve him. The choices he offers aren’t choices at all.”

Amity wanted to believe he was lying, but the weight of his words settled too heavily in her chest. She studied him in silence, searching his face for cracks in his calm exterior. What she found there unsettled her—pain, regret, and something that almost looked like hope.

“You should leave this place,” Zephyr said finally, stepping back into the shadows. “The glade won’t save you. If anything, it will only make you more... visible.”

“To who?” she demanded, taking a step forward. “Hades? Kassi?”

“To everything,” he replied, his voice fading as the darkness swallowed him. “Be careful what you seek, Amity. The truth has a way of cutting those who aren’t ready for it.”

Then he was gone.

The glade fell silent once more, its hum tapering to a faint whisper. Amity sank to her knees, her thoughts spinning. The pendant against her chest pulsed steadily, its rhythm grounding her even as the storm within her grew fiercer. Whatever lay ahead, there was no going back now. The truth was waiting, and she intended to find it—no matter what it might cost.