Chapter Two: The Boy in the Forest
The next morning, the world was perfectly normal.
Birds chirped. Cars honked. The cafeteria at Briarwood High still smelled like reheated meatloaf and cheap disinfectant. Elara sat at her usual table by the window, pretending to eat her sandwich while her best friend, Rina, rattled on about her crush on a senior boy named Theo.
"Elara, are you even listening?" Rina poked her arm with a plastic fork. "You've been in la-la land since yesterday."
Elara blinked. "Sorry. Just tired."
Tired didn't even begin to cover it. She hadn't slept. Not really. Every time she closed her eyes, that voice returned—deep, ancient, echoing through her skull like a storm trapped in a bottle. She'd woken up gasping for breath, her fingertips glowing faintly, the pages of the grimoire still open beside her bed.
And then there was the moon.
It had shimmered again last night. Not just violet, but gold around the edges—like something inside it was stirring. She'd tried to convince herself it was her imagination, maybe a trick of the light. But in her bones, she knew better.
"Elara, seriously." Rina leaned in, concern overtaking her usual sarcasm. "Is it your mom?"
Elara nodded slowly. "Yeah. Just… stressed."
It wasn't a lie. Not completely.
When the final bell rang, Elara practically sprinted out of the building. She didn't wait for Rina. She didn't check her phone. Her body moved on instinct, cutting across town and down the old train tracks, through the overgrown trail behind the cemetery. She didn't stop until she reached the edge of the forest.
And that's when she saw him.
A boy—barefoot and shirtless—stood just inside the shadow line where the trees met sunlight. He looked to be around her age, though taller, lean, and wild in a way that made the hair on her arms rise. His skin was pale as moonlight. His hair fell in black tangles around his face. But it was his eyes that stopped her in her tracks—violet, glowing faintly like amethysts set in shadow.
And then she saw the horns.
Small, curved, and sharp—jutting out from beneath his hairline. Real. Not costume. Not human.
He didn't move. Just stood there, watching her with a strange sort of calm, like he'd been waiting.
"You called me," he said.
Elara took a step back, pulse thudding in her throat. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Yes, you do." His voice was low, melodic, and uncomfortably intimate—like he was speaking directly into her mind. "You opened the book. You spoke the name. You brought me here."
"I—I didn't mean to summon anyone," she said. "I was just trying to help my mom."
His head tilted, the way a predator might study uncertain prey. "Intent doesn't undo the magic."
Elara's legs tensed, ready to bolt.
"You're not in danger," he added, reading her perfectly. "Not from me."
"Right," she said, voice tight. "Because horned forest boys with glowing eyes are famously trustworthy."
Something like amusement passed over his face. "You gave me form. Woke me from a long sleep. And now… we're bound."
Elara didn't wait to hear the rest. She turned and ran, the sound of her heartbeat louder than the wind. She didn't look back.
But as she crossed the train tracks and the cemetery faded from view, she couldn't shake the feeling that something had followed her.
Not a monster.
A boy.
And she had called him into the world.