Moonlit Enchantment

Chapter Twenty Six

In the dead of night, a figure stood at the edge of the dark woods, his silhouette casting a jagged shadow over the trees. He scanned the silence with narrowed eyes, the air thick with tension and the bitter tang of failure.

Alone and undeterred, he pressed into the forest, each step purposeful. The crunch of leaves under his boots echoed like bones cracking beneath his heel, stark against the hush. The task ahead was murky, elusive. But it didn’t matter.

Failure was not an option.

With every stride, he plunged deeper into the darkness, frustration simmering under his skin like an itch he couldn’t scratch. The moon cast an eerie sheen through the tangled canopy, doing little to ease his rising fury. The branches clawed at his coat like grasping fingers, mocking him with their resistance.

A snarl built in his throat, and finally, he snapped—tilting his head back with a feral howl that ripped through the night. The sound echoed through the woods, low and guttural, a hunter’s call to whatever still lurked in the shadows.

Somewhere else, under the dense lattice of Fae enchantments, Sabrina stood in the kitchen, humming as she chopped vegetables. The scent of sizzling stir-fry filled the cozy cottage, mixing with the pine-sweet air drifting through the open window. Outside, she could hear Dmitri working, the scrape of wood and his muttering as he adjusted a branch on the cat tree he was building for Archie.

“You know,” he called through the window, his tone light, “if someone had told me a year ago I’d be handcrafting furniture for a cat, I’d have laughed in their face.”

He was cut off by a sound—low at first, then rising into a chilling howl that sliced through the stillness like a blade. Sabrina froze, the knife paused mid-slice. Her heart jumped.

“What was that?” she called out, her voice tight with alarm.

Dmitri’s silhouette stilled. His head turned sharply toward the woods. In an instant, he was at the door.

Sabrina reacted quickly, whispering a spell as she waved her hand. The door shimmered, then solidified with a soft hum—an invisible barrier locking the cottage tight. With swift movements, she drew the curtains and extinguished the lights with a snap of her fingers, plunging the room into protective darkness.

At her magical altar, she grasped a crystal pendant and held it tightly. Closing her eyes, she focused. Seraphina… we need you.

Within moments, golden light shimmered in the air. Seraphina’s graceful form materialized in the center of the room, her four sisters appearing beside her in a halo of color and stillness.

“Sabrina,” Seraphina greeted gently, her voice like wind through ancient trees. “What has called you to us so late?”

“I’m sorry,” Sabrina said quickly, stepping forward. “But there was a howl. Something’s in the woods—something that doesn’t belong.”

Dmitri joined her, jaw tight. “It sounded familiar,” he said quietly. “I don’t know why. I just know I’ve heard it before.”

Seraphina studied him for a long moment, her expression unreadable. “You may be more right than you know. That cry was not random—it was searching. For you, perhaps. Or for what you’ve become.”

A tense silence fell.

Sabrina squared her shoulders, then smirked. “Whatever’s creeping around out there better be ready. I just cleaned the floors, and I’m not dealing with muddy paw prints and dark omens in the same week.”

Dmitri raised a brow, lips twitching. “That’s the spirit. Intimidate them with your broom and your very firm cleaning schedule.”

She gave him a look. “Don’t tempt me. The broom’s got better aim than most spells.”

He chuckled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Still. That howl wasn’t just a warning. It was a message.”

“Or a memory,” Seraphina murmured. “One that needs unraveling far from this place.”

She stepped forward, her expression solemn. “This cottage, charming though it is, is no longer safe. You must come with us to the mountains—to a hidden glen beyond reach of Radú or his beasts. There, we may plan without fear of who listens.”

Dmitri glanced around their home—his gaze lingering on the books stacked by the hearth, the well-loved cushions, the firelight fading beneath Sabrina’s cloaking spell. “I hate making you leave this place,” he said softly.

Sabrina didn’t miss a beat. “I’m not leaving a place. I’m going where you go. That’s the only part that matters.”

Dmitri’s eyes flicked to her, then down to Archie, who padded into the room with an indignant trill, tail high.

“I finally make peace with the cat,” Dmitri said with mock exasperation, “and now we’re uprooting his entire life. He’s never going to forgive me.”

Sabrina scooped Archie into her arms. “He’ll cope. Probably. In, like, a decade.”

“Great,” Dmitri muttered. “Guess I’ll start packing apology snacks.”

Archie yawned dramatically and climbed into the enchanted satchel Sabrina set out by the door, making himself at home with the unbothered air of someone clearly above the drama.

Seraphina’s golden aura flared brighter, signaling her readiness. “Time presses onward. Stand close.”

Sabrina took Dmitri’s hand. “Ready?”

He squeezed back. “Not really. But let’s do it anyway.”

With Seraphina at the center and her sisters weaving protective sigils in the air, the enchantment began. The room swirled in golden light and magic thick as honey. Sabrina, Dmitri, and Archie vanished with it—drawn toward distant mountains, and the truth they could no longer hide from.