Chapter 1 — The Letter and the Legacy

Riley Thorn

The church bells tolled, heavy and solemn, their echoes stretching across the small town like a dirge that refused to fade. Riley Thorn stood at the edge of the graveyard, her arms wrapped tightly around her torso. The biting autumn air prickled against her skin, but the chill wasn’t the reason her hands trembled. She stared at the dark mahogany casket being lowered into the earth, her father’s name etched in gold on the plaque.

William Thorn.

The name had felt so solid, so dependable, for all of her life—until now. It seemed wrong, surreal, that it could be reduced to a single engraved line.

"Such a good man. Always tried to help everyone," murmured Mr. Keller, the elderly neighbor, his voice wavering as he leaned on his cane. "Too kind for this world."

Riley barely nodded, her throat too tight to respond. Murmured condolences brushed past her like falling leaves, detached and meaningless. Neighbors from her father’s hardware store, the elderly couple who lived next door, and even the postman who had known her since she was a child—all offered quiet words of sympathy edged with the same undercurrent: pity. Riley didn’t look at them, didn’t answer. Her hazel eyes, rimmed red from tears, remained fixed on the freshly dug grave.

Her father had been everything to her. Her only family. And now he was gone, taken by a sudden heart attack that had left her spinning in a vortex of grief and unanswered questions. She glanced around, briefly catching snippets of whispered conversations among the mourners.

"She’s all alone now. Poor thing," one woman said quietly to another. "And with that house out there by the forest…"

"You think she’ll sell it?" the other replied, casting a furtive glance at Riley. "Can’t be easy, living so close to those woods."

Riley’s jaw tightened, but she said nothing. Let them whisper. It wouldn’t change anything.

When the service ended, Riley barely noticed the mourners dispersing. The world blurred as she trudged back to the house she had grown up in, her boots crunching against the gravel path. The modest one-story home sat on the outskirts of town, sheltered by an ancient oak tree that cast long, skeletal shadows across the lawn. She hesitated on the doorstep, hand resting on the tarnished brass doorknob. It felt wrong to enter without him there to greet her.

As she pushed the door open, the faint scent of coffee greeted her—his coffee, brewed each morning like clockwork. The walls, lined with faded photographs and shelves crammed with books, felt like a museum of a life now closed off to her. Her feet carried her to the kitchen automatically. Her eyes lingered on the mug he’d left on the counter that morning, as if he’d just stepped out and would return any moment. But he wouldn’t.

The silence pressed in. She dropped her keys on the table by the door, the sound unnaturally loud in the stillness, and wandered aimlessly until she found herself in his study.

The room was small and cluttered, with stacks of papers, tools, and trinkets scattered across the desk and shelves. The scent of wood polish and old books enveloped her, familiar and comforting in a way that made her chest ache. She sank into the worn chair behind his desk, running her fingers along the grain of the wooden surface.

She hadn’t been in here much, not since she was a child sneaking in to steal a chocolate he kept hidden in the drawer. Her father had always been private about his work, his past. Now, that silence felt suffocating. The weight of the mysteries he had left behind bore down on her, compounding her grief.

Blinking away tears, Riley began sorting through the desk, her movements mechanical. Bills, receipts, an old pocketknife—mundane things that gave no insight into the man she thought she knew so well. Frustration rose in her chest, mingling with grief. She wanted answers. Answers to questions she hadn’t even known to ask while he was alive.

Her hand brushed against the back panel of the bottom drawer, and she froze. It felt loose. Curious, she wiggled it free, revealing a hidden compartment beneath. Inside was a single envelope, sealed with wax and stamped with a crescent moon insignia.

Riley’s breath caught as she lifted it out. The paper was thick, the kind that felt ancient, as though it held more weight than its physical form. Her name was written on the front in her father’s unmistakable handwriting.

She hesitated, the raw ache in her chest deepening. This was it. The last communication from him, the last thing he would ever say to her. For a moment, she considered leaving it unread, as though keeping it sealed would keep some part of him alive. But the questions gnawed at her, relentless.

Breaking the seal, she unfolded the letter with shaky hands.

*Riley,*

*If you are reading this, then I am gone. I’m sorry for the secrets I kept from you, for the truths I didn’t share while I had the chance. I thought I was protecting you. Perhaps I was wrong. That is a question I will carry with me to the grave.*

*You are not who you think you are. Nor am I. Our family—our bloodline—is tied to something ancient, something powerful... and cursed.*

Her heart pounded as she read on, the words blurring slightly from the sting of unshed tears.

*You are the heir to the Lunar Wolves, a pack of beings who stand between humanity and the magic of the forest. I was one of them once, before I turned my back on that life to protect you. But no one truly escapes the forest. Not forever.*

*There is a curse that binds the forest and the wolves. It has shaped their lives—and ours—for generations. I fear I have only delayed the inevitable. Now, it falls to you to choose your place in this legacy. To find the pack, you must enter the forest. They will not trust you easily. You must earn it. The curse must be broken, or it will destroy us all.*

*I wish I could guide you, but this is your journey now. You are stronger than you know, Riley. Trust yourself.*

*With all my love,

Dad*

Her hands were trembling so violently that the letter slipped from her fingers and drifted to the desk. She stared at it, unblinking, as though it might vanish if she looked away.

The Lunar Wolves. The forest. A curse. It sounded ridiculous, like something out of a fairy tale. Yet, deep beneath her disbelief, there was a flicker of recognition, a whisper in the back of her mind that told her this was real.

Her father’s pendant sat on the desk next to the letter—a crescent moon etched into its surface, identical to the seal on the envelope. She picked it up, the cool metal grounding her as the weight of the revelations pressed down on her.

She didn’t know what to believe, what to feel. Grief, anger, confusion—they swirled together, overwhelming her. Why had he kept this from her? Why hadn’t he told her the truth when he was alive? She wanted to scream, to demand answers from the empty room.

Instead, she sat in silence, the faint sound of the wind brushing against the windows. Her fingers tightened around the pendant.

The forest.

Everyone in town knew the stories about it—the dark, sprawling woods that bordered the village, whispered to be home to strange creatures and restless spirits. No one went in. Not unless they had a death wish.

And yet, her father’s words echoed in her mind. *You must enter the forest.*

Riley rose from the chair, the letter clutched tightly in one hand, the pendant in the other. She moved through the house, her steps purpose-driven now. A bag—she would need one. Supplies. A flashlight. Whether or not she believed the letter, she had to know. She couldn’t sit here, drowning in questions and doubt.

As she packed, her thoughts drifted to old Mrs. Harper’s voice, low and ominous. "The forest isn’t natural. It’s alive. And it doesn’t like us."

Riley shivered, but her resolve didn’t falter. She pulled on her boots, her father’s letter tucked safely into her jacket pocket. The pendant hung around her neck, its weight both reassuring and foreboding.

The sun was setting as she approached the edge of the forest. The trees loomed like sentinels, their gnarled branches silhouetted against the fading light. The air felt different here—thicker, charged with something she couldn’t name. The wind whispered through the trees, too soft to catch the words but unmistakably there.

She hesitated, her breath visible in the cooling air. The pendant warmed faintly against her skin, as though urging her forward.

“Okay,” she whispered to herself. “Okay.”

And then, with one final glance back at the life she was leaving behind, Riley stepped into the forest.

The trees swallowed her whole, and the world changed.