The clearing was silent, but not with the peace of nature. It was the kind of silence that listened. That waited.
Havyn's pulse thrummed in his ears as he stepped closer to the altar. The ancient symbol carved into its surface pulsed faintly, a slow, rhythmic glow that mimicked the beat of his own heart. There was something alive in the markings, something older than language, older than the trees that surrounded them like silent sentinels.
Selene lingered behind him, her silver eyes scanning the twisted forest. Her usual smirk was gone, replaced by sharp tension. She didn't like this.
Neither did Havyn.
But he had no choice.
Something called to him from that altar.
His hand hovered over the stone. The moment his fingers brushed against it, power surged through his veins.
A shockwave erupted from the altar, blasting outward in an unseen force. The trees groaned as if in pain, their twisted branches trembling. Selene let out a sharp curse, stumbling back.
Havyn didn't have time to react.
Because the world around him was already shattering.
Memories That Aren't His
His vision blurred, the colors of the forest bleeding into a deep emerald green. The air thickened, humming with a force that wasn't quite magic, wasn't quite natural—it was something else.
He wasn't standing in the clearing anymore.
He was somewhere ancient.
Towering trees stretched high above, their bark shimmering with strange silver veins. The leaves were too large, their edges curling like delicate parchment, their colors shifting between deep gold and violet.
The sky was unnatural—a storm frozen in time, swirling in slow, mesmerizing spirals of light.
And standing at the heart of this impossible grove was a figure.
Tall. Cloaked in emerald furs. Their features were obscured, shifting like a reflection on rippling water. Their presence was overwhelming, pressing against Havyn's chest like a weight. Power radiated from them, raw and untamed.
Havyn tried to move, but he was held—not by force, but by the sheer magnitude of the being before him.
Then came the voice.
It wasn't spoken. It wasn't even a whisper. It rippled through his very bones.
"You are not the first."
Havyn's breath hitched. The figure took a slow step forward. Their cloak rustled, but there was no wind.
"You are not the last."
The air crackled, as if reality itself struggled to contain the force of their words.
Havyn clenched his fists. "Who are you?" he demanded.
The figure stopped.
Then, slowly, they lifted a hand.
The world shifted again.
For the briefest of moments, Havyn wasn't in the grove. He was somewhere darker—somewhere drenched in shadows. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth, of decaying leaves, of something rotting.
And in that darkness, he saw eyes.
Dozens. Hundreds. Watching.
Then the voice returned, softer this time, almost… regretful.
"The Hunt has begun."
The Marked One
Havyn's body snapped back into place.
The vision shattered like broken glass, the force of it slamming into him. He staggered backward, gasping for breath, his legs nearly giving out beneath him.
Selene's hands caught him before he could collapse entirely.
"What the hell was that?" she demanded.
Havyn barely heard her. His pulse was roaring in his ears, his head spinning. He pressed a hand to his chest, willing his breathing to slow.
Then, pain burned across his palm.
He hissed, pulling his hand back. His skin itched, like something had been carved into it. He turned it over.
His stomach twisted.
A symbol was now etched into his skin—glowing with the same faint pulse as the altar.
Selene stiffened.
"That's—" She stopped herself, her face darkening.
Havyn clenched his jaw. "You recognize it."
Selene didn't speak at first. Then, after a long pause, she let out a breath.
"I've seen it before," she muttered. "In old texts. It's a mark of the First Circle."
Havyn's brow furrowed. "The First Circle?"
Selene's gaze flickered to the altar, then back to him. Her voice was quieter now, laced with something almost like fear.
"The First Circle was the original druidic order. The true shapechangers. Not just wolves, not just bears—they could take the forms of creatures that don't even exist anymore. Beasts that were more than beasts."
Havyn swallowed. He had never heard of them before. "What happened to them?"
Selene's silver eyes darkened.
"They were hunted."
A cold weight settled in Havyn's gut.
Selene crossed her arms, her gaze sharp. "That mark isn't just a relic. It's a claim. Whatever's left of the First Circle… they want you."
Havyn's hands curled into fists. He wasn't just connected to the Wild anymore. He was bound to it in ways he didn't understand.
But before he could process it, before he could even breathe—
The air shifted.
The Hunters Arrive
Selene's body went rigid. Her fingers twitched, her magic sparking to life.
Havyn felt it before he heard it. A weight settling over the forest. The air grew thick, charged with something wrong.
Then—
A sound.
Low. Guttural.
Growing closer.
Selene turned to him sharply. "Havyn."
His body reacted before his mind did. He reached for her wrist, yanking her closer. "Run."
They sprinted into the trees.
The moment they moved, the forest came alive.
Branches twisted unnaturally, stretching toward them like skeletal hands. The roots beneath their feet shifted, trying to trip them. The entire Wild pulsed with an unseen force, something ancient and furious.
Behind them, the sound grew louder.
A chorus of snarls. Growls. Not like wolves, not like any beast Havyn had ever encountered.
These were the sounds of creatures that had no place in the natural world.
Selene gritted her teeth, her fingers flicking out as dark energy swirled between them. A surge of shadowy tendrils shot out, slashing through the branches ahead, clearing their path.
Havyn didn't thank her. He just ran.
Then—
A blur in the corner of his eye.
Something leaped from the darkness.
Havyn barely had time to react. He shifted—his body twisting mid-motion, his muscles expanding as his form blurred into something larger, something stronger. Claws erupted from his hands, his teeth sharpening into fangs.
The creature collided with him.
They hit the ground in a tangle of limbs, rolling through the dirt. Havyn snarled, kicking the thing off him. It landed in a crouch, its pale skin stretched too tight over an elongated, skeletal frame. Its eyes—black and hollow—locked onto him.
Selene skidded to a stop. "Havyn—"
Then, behind them, more shapes emerged from the trees.
A dozen. Maybe more.
They weren't just being hunted.
They were being cornered.
Havyn rose to his feet, his breathing heavy, his body still shifting between forms. The creatures didn't move yet, but their claws twitched, their hunger palpable.
Selene's magic flared brighter, her silver eyes sharp. "Tell me you've got a plan."
Havyn wiped blood from his mouth.
"Yeah." His voice was a growl now, more beast than man.
"Kill as many as we can."
Then the creatures lunged.