The days after the howl were quiet.
Too quiet.
Not the peace of a world rebuilding, but the stillness before a storm—like the forest was holding its breath, like the leyline beneath our feet was coiled and waiting.
And I could feel it.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw it: a door. Not made of wood or stone—but bone. Twisting, ancient, half-forgotten. And it was opening.
The Fracture Beneath
“We’re running out of time,” Mira said, pacing the map chamber.
Alistair looked grim. “The leyline rift has spread. It’s reaching past Ashbourne now—into the Borderlands.”
Kael leaned forward, bracing his forearms against the table. “That’s deep witch territory.”
“No,” I said, heart tightening. “That’s lost witch territory. The Wild Hollow.”
A place none of us dared enter. A place where the o
