stolen by a wolf saved by fate

Elira I had always believed the world ended at the fence. A crooked, vine-covered barrier encircled the clearing I called home—made of wood too old to remember its origin, bound together by rusted nails and whispered warnings. Beyond it lay the forest: wild, dark, and forbidden. To me, it was also beautiful. Each morning, I rose with the sun and pressed my fingers to the glass windowpane of the little cottage, watching the light stretch its golden fingers across the tree line. Birds nested in the canopy. Squirrels skittered along the branches. Sometimes, if I was lucky, a fawn would appear at the edge of the thicket, eyes wide and body trembling as though the forest itself breathed through it. The cottage was small—two rooms, a hearth, and shelves stacked with worn books and dried herbs. I’d lived here as long as I could remember, cared for by a woman I only knew as Aunt Maren. Maren rarely spoke of the world outside. When she did, her voice grew tight and her eyes distant. “Out there is danger, child. Men who wear faces like ours but are beasts underneath. Stay inside the fence. Promise me.” And I had. For eighteen years, I had obeyed. I learned to read by firelight. I sang to the stars when I was lonely. I grew herbs in the garden. I knew how to stitch, how to bake, how to read the stars when the skies were clear. I nursed wounded animals back to health with trembling hands and whispered lullabies. My favorite was a fox with a mangled paw I named Ash. He still visited now and then, watching me from the trees with curious amber eyes. Though I lived in isolation, I never felt empty. My soul overflowed with quiet hope, with love for things that couldn’t speak—flowers, birds, stars, rain. I never resented my solitude. But I had questions. Questions Maren never answered. Why was l forbidden from leaving? Why did my dreams burn with images of silver eyes and glowing moons? Why did my heart ache at night as though something—or someone—was missing? This afternoon, the wind carried something strange. I could feel it in my soul, something bigger than this jungle. The forest beyond seemed closer somehow, like it had crept nearer in the night. I was kneeling by the garden, coaxing a wilted lily back to life with careful fingers and soft humming, when the breeze shifted. It wasn’t just air—it was a scent. Sweet. Smoky. Wild. I lifted my head. Something tugged at my chest. The air was too still. The sun too quiet. My fingers tightened around a stem of lily as I looked toward the fence. I wiped my hands on my apron and wandered toward the fence. My bare feet brushed through dew-damp grass. The wind playing with my hair, long and chestnut brown, as if urging me forward. “Just one look,” I whispered. The forest beyond loomed like a dream—twilight trapped between trees. For years, I’d watched it from afar, imagining what it felt like to stand beneath those ancient boughs. .The air changed the instant I crossed. It was heavier here. Wilder. Alive. My skin prickled as if the trees themselves were watching me. Yet… it was beautiful. Light filtered through the canopy above in gold and green streaks, painting patterns on the mossy floor. A white moth fluttered past her cheek, and far in the distance, water trickled somewhere unseen. I took a breath—and smiled. “What was so dangerous about this?” Why had I been kept from it? I could feel the air thickened. The birds went silent. Even the insects stilled. I took another step. The light dimmed, swallowed by the canopy overhead. My breath hitched, not in fear—but in wonder. Moss carpeted the earth, soft and cool beneath my feet. Leaves whispered like voices above me. A white moth drifted past my cheek. It felt like magic. Then I heard it. A growl—low, guttural, and close. From the shadows ahead, two eyes blinked open. Amber. Burning. Wrong. My legs refused to move. An other growl cut through the air, low and primal. Then he was on me. I screamed, but it was silenced by a hand—clawed, strong, cold. My feet lifted off the ground as I was yanked backward, dragged deeper into the forest, my vision spinning with leaves and fear. Panic flooded my chest. My fists beat against his arms, but it was like striking stone. “No no no—this isn’t real—this can’t be—" “Quiet,” the voice rasped against my ear. Male. Rough. Too close. “She’s real,” a harsh voice rasped near my ear. “Finally found you.”