The air thickened as Selena stepped into the cursed forest.
Her boots sank into the moss-laced earth, every step swallowed by a hush older than time. The trees here were twisted, gnarled like claws reaching for heaven only to be forgotten. No birds sang. No breeze stirred. Only the quiet whisper of leaves murmuring secrets long dead.
Cassius had warned her.
"This place is alive. It remembers blood. Don't speak unless spoken to. And don't lie. She always knows."
The map he'd etched into her palm was already fading. But Selena didn't need it. The forest pulled her deeper, guiding her like a tether to something ancient and waiting. Her chest ached with each breath, the bond to Dante still alive, pulsing faintly. He was resting in the manor, guarded by Cassius—recovering from the beast's possession, yet still vulnerable.
But answers would not come from scholars or spells. Not for what she needed.
Only the Crone held the truth.
