The Blackwood camp woke to a heavy mist blanketing the trees, an unusual stillness hanging in the air. It felt as though the forest itself was waiting, holding its breath for what was to come.
Lyla sat near the fire, the small crystal in her hand glowing faintly with an unearthly green light. The energy pulsing from it was steady, almost comforting, yet it carried an underlying tension she couldn’t ignore. The forest’s whispers were faint but urgent, guiding her toward something deeper, something buried within the land itself.
The pack gathered around her, their faces a mix of curiosity and apprehension. Corin stood to the side, his expression unreadable, though his piercing blue eyes rarely left the crystal.
“This crystal is the key,” Lyla began, her voice calm but firm. “To what, I do
