Chapter 3 — Forest Encounter

Hendrix

The late afternoon sun hung low in the sky as Hendrix Dalton navigated the winding path that bordered Moonveil Forest. Golden light streamed through the canopy of ancient oaks, painting shifting patterns on the forest floor. She zipped her jacket against the unexpected chill in the air, her boots crunching against layers of scattered leaves. The silence pressed against her, muffled yet heavy, broken only by the occasional rustle of unseen creatures.

She hadn’t planned to take the shortcut. Her original intention had been to stick to the familiar path that led directly back to town, where Stacey’s teasing questions and Miranda’s quiet scrutiny would await her. But solitude had called to her, louder than the nagging voices of concern. And the forest—this forest—had beckoned her in a way she couldn’t explain.

At first, it had been a faint pull, like a thought at the edge of her mind. But it grew stronger with each step closer to the towering trees, a magnetic force that thrummed under her skin and quickened her pulse. Why did it feel so familiar? Why did it feel so wrong? Unease coiled tightly in her chest, clashing with the inexplicable need to keep going. She wasn’t sure which would win.

The deeper she ventured, the more the forest seemed to shift. The vibrant reds and yellows of autumn dulled to muted shadows, and the air grew heavier, thick with an electric charge that prickled along her skin. The towering trees, once serene in their stillness, now loomed like silent sentinels, their gnarled forms twisting in the fading light. Even the birds had fallen silent, their absence unsettling.

Hendrix slowed her steps as she reached a narrow clearing, the ground soft and uneven with damp moss. The temperature plummeted, and the faint hum in the air grew sharper, almost alive. She stopped, her hazel eyes scanning the shadows. A chill ran down her spine. Something wasn’t right.

Her fingers tightened around the strap of her bag as her breath quickened. “Hello?” she called, her voice cutting through the dense quiet like a knife. The sound seemed to ripple outward, carried and then swallowed by the dark.

No answer.

But the sensation of being watched sharpened, gnawing at the back of her neck. Her heart pounded, and she turned slowly, her eyes darting between the deepened shadows that seemed to creep closer. Her fingers grazed the cool metal of the pendant resting at her collarbone—the delicate crescent moon Miranda had given her days earlier. The charm felt warm now, a faint, steady heat that pulsed against her skin like a heartbeat.

And then she saw them.

Amber eyes, glowing faintly, burned from the shadows across the clearing. They pierced the darkness, sharp and unblinking, their golden light flickering as though reflecting fire. Hendrix froze, caught in their predatory gaze. These weren’t human eyes. Their intensity sent every nerve in her body screaming to move, to run. But her legs refused to obey, rooted to the ground as fear clawed its way up her throat.

A shadow unraveled from the darkness. A wolf—massive, its pelt a striking blend of rusted copper and deep auburn—stepped into view. Its sheer size was monstrous, dwarfing any wolf she’d ever imagined. Muscles rippled beneath its fur as it prowled forward, its movements impossibly fluid, unnervingly deliberate. The air itself seemed to hum with its presence, the charged energy vibrating along Hendrix’s skin.

“No,” she whispered, her voice trembling as she stumbled back. Her boots skidded over the damp moss, but the wolf didn’t stop. Its burning gaze bore into hers, fierce and unnervingly intelligent, as though it could see straight through her.

The pull she’d felt earlier roared to life, wrapping around her like invisible chains. Its force was overwhelming, magnetic and all-consuming, tugging her forward even as her instincts screamed to retreat. Her fingers clutched the pendant tightly, its warmth intensifying, spreading through her palm like liquid fire.

The wolf’s gaze flicked briefly to the pendant. Its ears twitched, and a low growl rumbled from deep within its chest, vibrating through the clearing like distant thunder. The sound reverberated through Hendrix’s ribs, freezing her blood. She stared at the creature, her breathing shallow, her mind racing to understand the connection—why it stopped, why it was fixated on the pendant.

Before she could process the thought, the wolf’s head snapped toward the treeline. Its ears swiveled, its entire body suddenly rigid with tension. A deeper growl escaped, more menacing this time, filled with warning. Hendrix’s pulse thundered in her ears as her gaze followed the direction of its attention.

A figure emerged from the shadows, tall and commanding, his presence cutting through the charged atmosphere like a blade. Derek Veiler. His silver-gray eyes gleamed with an unnatural intensity, twin shards of moonlight catching the dim glow filtering through the canopy. Dressed in a dark button-down and leather jacket, his imposing frame seemed to meld with the forest’s shadows, as though he were part of it.

“What the hell are you doing here?” His voice was low but sharp, slicing through the air with an edge of barely restrained anger. Beneath the harshness, though, there was something else—urgency, and something that tangled with it. Concern.

Hendrix opened her mouth, but no words came. Derek’s attention shifted to the wolf, and for an instant, something unspoken passed between them. The wolf growled softly, its fiery gaze lingering on Hendrix before it stepped back into the shadows. Its amber eyes glowed until they, too, disappeared, leaving the clearing cold and desolate.

The charged energy snapped, the silence crashing back like a tidal wave. Hendrix’s legs wobbled as Derek strode toward her, his movements purposeful, his expression carved from stone. She stumbled back instinctively, but the intensity in his gaze pinned her in place.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he said, his voice tightly controlled. “How many times do I have to tell you? Stay out of the forest.”

Hendrix’s fear simmered just beneath the surface, but his commanding tone lit a spark of defiance in her chest. “I didn’t come here on purpose,” she snapped, her voice shaking. “I was just—taking a shortcut.”

“This isn’t a place for shortcuts,” Derek snapped, his silver-gray eyes flashing. “It’s dangerous.”

“I noticed,” she retorted, her fear twisting into frustration. “What was that thing? That wolf?”

Derek’s jaw tightened, the muscle ticking as he regarded her in silence. For a moment, she thought he wouldn’t answer. Then he exhaled, running a hand through his dark, tousled hair. “It’s not something you need to concern yourself with,” he said, the edge in his tone softening slightly but not disappearing. “Knowing would do you more harm than good.”

Her hazel eyes blazed with defiance as she crossed her arms. “And why should I trust you? You keep warning me, but you never tell me why. I’m not some scared idiot who’s just going to—”

“You’re not ready for the truth,” Derek cut in, his voice sharper now, though his control never wavered. “You think you want answers, but if you knew what was out here, what’s at stake—you wouldn’t be so eager to ask.”

His words weighed heavy in the air, sinking into her chest. She wanted to argue, to push back, but the look in his eyes stopped her. It wasn’t anger or irritation she saw—it was fear. Fear for her, and something deeper she couldn’t quite name.

The silence that followed was suffocating, thick with unspoken tension. Hendrix dropped her gaze to the mossy ground, her fingers brushing the now-cool pendant at her neck.

“I need you to promise me,” Derek said suddenly, his tone quieter but no less commanding. “Promise me you’ll stay out of the forest.”

She hesitated, the pull she’d felt earlier still a faint whisper in her chest. It called to her, soft and insistent, but Derek’s voice—low and deliberate—left no room for refusal. “Fine,” she muttered grudgingly. “I promise.”

Derek exhaled, his shoulders relaxing slightly. “Good. Now go,” he said, his voice firm but not without a trace of relief. “I’ll walk you back.”

Hendrix opened her mouth to protest, but the forest’s shadows felt heavier now, more hostile. She turned reluctantly, her steps deliberate, aware of Derek falling into stride beside her.

Neither of them spoke as they left the clearing, the oppressive quiet of the forest pressing against her back. But even as the familiar sights of town came into view, Hendrix couldn’t shake the feeling that the pull wasn’t done with her yet. It waited, patient and unrelenting, whispering that this was only the beginning.