The moon hung high above the castle, bathing Princess Amaya's chambers in a soft silver glow. Within the room, the fire had died down to embers, and the night was still. Amaya lay beneath the weight of thick, silken blankets, her breathing slow, her brow slightly furrowed. She was deep in sleep, caught in the tender grasp of slumber. And yet…
"Amaya…"
The whisper came like a breeze, gentle, low, yet clear. She stirred slightly.
"Amaya…"
Again. Softer. Closer. Even in sleep, her brow creased deeper, and she shifted beneath the covers, rolling from side to side.
"Amaya…"
Now the whispers overlapped. Layer upon layer of different voices, young and old, male and female, each calling her name like an ancient lullaby sung through time. The voices echoed and curled through her head like smoke, making it impossible for her to grasp and harder to ignore. She tried to wake up, her soul tugging at her body, but sleep held her down. The room slowly began to fade away. Her breath hitched. And then, the vision began.
She was no longer in her bed but drifting down the long corridors of the palace. She moved as though carried by the wind, her body weightless, her feet gliding without touch. She passed the grand tapestries, the moonlit hall, the dimly flickering sconces lining the walls. The world around her seemed to blur, too fast, too quiet, too surreal.
But then the pace slowed. She was approaching the courtyard, the great open center of the palace where the moon always shone the brightest. The wind rustled the leaves of the towering trees. She floated past the moonstone fountain and into the path that led to the edge of the woods. Something had called her here, luring her out of her bed.
She stopped, breathless, and turned in a slow circle, trying to understand. What was the vision trying to reveal? Who was calling her from her sleep? And then, two green eyes blinked open from the shadows of the forest. She gasped. They weren't human. Her heart pounded. Her chest rose and fell rapidly. She looked around, desperate to escape, but her body wouldn't move. It was as if she were frozen in place by those glowing eyes.
Then, from the darkness beneath the gaze, a hand emerged, thin, long-fingered, not belonging to any creature she recognized. It was not human. It was not a wolf. It certainly was not a Lycan either. Then a voice whispered from the shadows, close but not quite present.
"Come find me."
Amaya woke with a sharp gasp, sitting bolt upright in her bed.
Her breath came in shallow pants, and her heart thudded loudly against her ribcage. She looked around her room, the soft moonlight streamed in through the balcony window, illuminating the floor in slanted lines. The fire had long since died. She placed a hand over her chest, trying to steady herself. But the whisper still echoed in her head.
"Come find me."
Amaya swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood. She glanced toward her chamber door, briefly considering waking Selene. But Selene wasn't a fighter, she wasn't a protector. If something did lie in the woods, something dangerous, Selene couldn't help her. As a matter of fact, the reverse would be the case.
Then there was Darkota. Her sworn protector. The knight her father assigned after the tournament. Always at his post just outside her chamber. Ever silent. Ever watching.
But Amaya didn't trust him, not fully. Not with this. This wasn't a royal errand or a political summons. This was something else. Something… older.
She crossed to the balcony, opening the tall window doors. The night breeze met her with a cold kiss, and she stepped into the moonlight. Her bare feet touched the cold stone, but she did not shiver. With a steadying breath, she allowed the change to come.
Her form shimmered beneath the moon, her bones cracking gently, reshaping into her wolf form. Brown fur the color of a dark night covered her body, and her eyes glowed faintly gold.
She crouched low, then leapt from the balcony—straight into the nearby tree that had often served as her escape route as a child. She climbed down swiftly, silently. Her paws touched the earth, and she looked up once more at the castle, just to be sure no one saw her.
Then she was off. She ran across the quiet courtyard, through the hedges, past the moonstone fountain. The wind rushed past her ears. Her paws pounded against the grass, then the soft forest floor. She knew this path. It was the one from her vision. The woods loomed around her, dark, mysterious, and old. Her breath formed clouds in the cold night air as she slowed to a cautious trot.
Come find me. She heard the whisper again, this time clearer, more directed. Then—
"Amaya."
She spun around, a low growl in her throat. Her ears pinned back.
Then she saw them, the green eyes. Just like in her vision. Nestled in the bushes, unblinking. The creature stepped out. Amaya's golden eyes narrowed as she studied it.
It was no taller than a child, with naked, gray-green skin. Its limbs were long and thin, almost brittle-looking. Its face was small, round, with those massive green eyes that glowed faintly. No fur, no armor, no recognizable mark of origin. It wasn't a rogue. It wasn't a wolf. It wasn't a Lycan. It was something else entirely.
Amaya shifted back into her human form, her feet landing softly on the forest floor. Her long hair tumbled down her shoulders. She crouched before the creature, studying it more closely now.
Its skin shimmered slightly, as if it were part of the forest. As if it didn't quite belong to the physical world.
"It's good to see you, Princess," the creature said in a high, clear voice.
Amaya's eyes narrowed. She crouched further, bringing herself to its height. Her voice came out low, carefully.
"What are you?"