WILLOW'S POV.
I didn’t remember falling asleep.
One moment, I was sitting on the edge of my bed, my jacket still half on, the bandage around my ribs pulsing faintly with heat. The next, the world blurred around me—the edges of my room melting like wet paint.
And suddenly, I was standing in the woods.
At first, everything looked… normal.
Silent.
Still.
The moon was out, spilling silver light through the trees. Mist curled around my ankles like smoke, and the air smelled faintly of rain and something else I couldn't place. I turned slowly, frowning.
“Lily?” I called.
No answer.
Only the soft whisper of the wind brushing through dead leaves.
I took a step forward, my boots crunching faintly against the forest floor. The mist thickened, and the world around me shifted with it—trees
