Alina was sixteen now.
Strong-willed, sharp-eyed, and a reflection of her father in the way she walked—her real father. Alex. Though she never knew him, his legacy pulsed in her veins. She had heard the stories whispered by the elders, seen the sadness in her mother's eyes every time his name was mentioned.
Elena had tried to protect her daughter from the weight of that past, but truth had a way of blooming through cracks. Especially in a world like theirs.
Elena was different now too. Hardened by survival, softened by motherhood. She had married Ethan a few years after the war, not out of pity, but choice. He had been her rock, her shield, her safe place when the world broke apart.
Together, they had a second daughter—Lyra.
Lyra was ten, innocent, curious, and fearless. She followed Alina everywhere, even when she wasn't supposed to. Especially when she wasn't supposed to.
The two sisters were inseparable.
But peace, as always, was temporary.
Lately, strange signs had appeared outside the village. Tracks too clean to be wild animals. Fires lit and quickly abandoned. Markings on the trees no one recognized except Elena. Symbols from the past. Symbols from the ones who had vanished after the hunters' truce.
One night, while the village slept, Alina snuck out into the woods with Lyra trailing her. What she found changed everything.
A boy, around her age, wounded and afraid. He wore the mark—the same one her mother had feared. But instead of attacking, he begged for help.
"I need to warn you," he said, gripping her arm.
They're coming back. Not the hunters… something worse.