Wolf Cursed

Chapter 3: Into the Forest of Secrets

The creature’s glowing eyes bore into Ivy, its presence as suffocating as the icy wind that was now coming in through the shattered door. Ivy’s fingers tightened around the hilt of her blade, every muscle in her body taut.

“Where is Killian?” the creature growled again, stepping into the cabin. Its hulking frame cast a long shadow over the small room, and the tarot cards on the table quivered as if sensing its malice.

“He’s not here,” Ivy lied, keeping her voice steady. “And you’re not welcome.”

The creature’s lips curled into something resembling a smile, revealing jagged teeth that gleamed like shards of obsidian. “You reek of his scent. Do you think you can fool me, human?”

Ivy’s mind raced a bit. She couldn’t match this thing in strength, but speed and wit were another matter. Her eyes flicked to the table, where the Moon card still lay face-up, its faint glow pulsating like a warning.

The creature lunged without warning, claws slicing through the air. Ivy dove to the side, rolling to her feet as the table splintered beneath the weight of its attack. She slashed with her blade, the silver edge catching the faint light of the tarot cards. The creature hissed and recoiled, its blackened skin sizzling where the blade had grazed it.

“Silver,” it snarled, its glowing eyes narrowing. “You’ve prepared well.”

Ivy didn’t waste time responding. She darted toward the door, her mind screaming for an escape plan. The creature blocked her path in an instant, moving with a speed that defied its massive size.

“You won’t leave here alive,” it said, its voice dripping with malice. “But I might let you beg for mercy.”

“Not my style,” Ivy shot back, feinting left before slicing at its right flank. The blade met resistance, but the creature’s roar of pain told her she’d struck true. Black ichor oozed from the wound, its acrid stench filling the air.

Before she could press her advantage, the creature lashed out, its claws grazing her arm. Pain flared, but she pushed it aside, rolling backward to create distance.

“Killian!” she shouted, hoping he was close enough to hear. “Whatever mess you’ve dragged me into, now would be a great time to show up!”

The creature laughed, a sound that sent shivers down her spine. “He won’t come. He’s already dead.”

Ivy froze, her breath catching in her throat. No. That couldn’t be true. Killian was too strong, too determined to fall so easily. And yet, doubt gnawed at her resolve.

The creature lunged again, its claws aimed for her throat. Ivy ducked, slamming her shoulder into its midsection with all her strength. The impact sent both of them crashing into the remains of the table, but it was enough to knock the wind out of her opponent.

Before it could recover, Ivy scrambled to her feet and grabbed the tarot deck. The cards felt warm in her hands, almost as if they were alive. She drew one at random, her instincts screaming at her to trust the magic she barely understood.

The card burned bright as she held it up, the image of the Tower illuminating the room. Chaos, destruction, upheaval. The creature recoiled, shielding its eyes from the card’s light.

“What are you?” it hissed, its voice filled with both fear and fury.

“Someone you don’t want to mess with,” Ivy said, stepping forward. The card’s glow intensified, driving the creature back toward the door.

It snarled, its body contorting unnaturally as it fought against the card’s power. “This isn’t over, human. He’ll doom you just as he doomed himself.”

With one final roar, the creature dissolved into a cloud of black smoke, disappearing into the night. The cabin fell silent, the only sound Ivy’s ragged breathing.

Killian returned minutes later, his face pale and his clothes torn. He staggered into the cabin, clutching his side as blood seeped through his fingers.

“You look like hell,” Ivy said, rushing to his side. Despite her words, her tone was laced with relief.

“You should see the other guy,” Killian muttered, collapsing into a chair. His eyes darted to the broken door and the remnants of the table. “What happened here?”

“Your friend dropped by,” Ivy replied, grabbing a towel to press against his wound. “Big, ugly, and not a fan of silver.”

Killian winced but managed a weak smile. “Sounds like a wraith.”

“That’s what you called it earlier. Care to explain why it wanted to kill me?”

Killian’s expression darkened. “They’re drawn to the curse. The more we dig into it, the more attention we attract. And you… you’re connected to this now, whether you like it or not.”

Ivy cursed under her breath. “Perfect. Just what I needed.”

Killian grabbed her wrist, his grip surprisingly strong despite his weakened state. “If you want out, say so now. This will only get worse.”

Ivy met his gaze, her own resolve hardening. “We started this. We’re going to finish it.”

By dawn, the cabin was eerily quiet. Ivy sat at the table, staring at the map of Northern National Park. Her arm throbbed where the creature’s claws had grazed her, but she pushed the pain aside. There were bigger things to worry about.

Killian emerged from the bedroom, looking slightly better but still pale. He carried a small bag and set it on the table.

“What’s this?” Ivy asked.

“Supplies,” Killian replied. “We’ll need them once we’re inside the park. The altar isn’t going to be unguarded.”

“Fantastic,” Ivy said dryly. “More things trying to kill us.”

Killian smirked, though there was little humor in it. “Welcome to my world.”

As they prepared to leave, Ivy couldn’t shake the feeling that they were walking into a trap. The creature’s parting words echoed in her mind: “He’ll doom you just as he doomed himself.”

She glanced at Killian, his jaw set with determination. Whatever secrets he was keeping, they were going to come to light soon. And Ivy wasn’t sure she was ready for the answers.

They entered the forest just as the sun broke over the horizon, its golden light filtering through the dense canopy. The air was thick with the scent of moss and damp earth, and every shadow seemed to shift and writhe as they moved deeper into the woods.

Killian led the way, his movements careful but purposeful. Ivy followed close behind, her blade ready and her senses on high alert. The silence of the forest was unnatural, as if even the animals knew to stay away.

After an hour of trekking, they reached a clearing. In the center stood a massive stone altar, its surface etched with the same symbols Ivy had seen in the photo. The air around it seemed to hum with energy, making the hairs on her arms stand on end.

“This is it,” Killian said, his voice low. “The source of the curse.”

Ivy stepped forward, her gaze fixed on the altar. The symbols seemed to shift and pulse, as if alive. She reached out to touch one, but Killian grabbed her wrist.

“Don’t,” he warned. “It’s more dangerous than it looks.”

Before she could respond, the ground beneath them trembled. A low growl rumbled through the clearing, and Ivy spun around to see shadows emerging from the trees. Dozens of them, their forms shifting and unnatural.

“Wraiths,” Killian said, his voice grim. “They were waiting for us.”

Ivy drew her blade, her heart pounding. “Then let’s not keep them waiting.”

As the wraiths closed in, the altar began to glow, its symbols burning with an intense, otherworldly light. Ivy could feel its power pulling at her, whispering secrets she wasn’t ready to hear.

And in that moment, as the first wraith lunged at her, she realized the forest wasn’t just cursed—it was alive.