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The villagers always said that no sane person wandered into the Midnight Forest after dusk. Tales of strange howls, flickering shadows, and vanished travelers had haunted Raven Hollow for centuries. Children were told stories at bedtime, mothers barred their doors at sunset, and men crossed themselves when the wind carried howls down from the hills.
But tonight, Lila Ainsley didn't feel like listening to old warnings.
She needed an escape - just an hour away from her mother's sharp tongue, from the suffocating little house cluttered with regrets and half-finished embroidery. The forest, so close and yet forbidden, called to her like a secret promise.
She had told herself she'd only sketch the twisted trees, the ancient oaks that lined the path behind the abandoned church. She'd be back before dark. No one would know. No one would scold.
Except she had lost herself. The trees all looked the same in the deepening dusk, and the winding deer tracks mocked her sense of direction.
Now, with night draping its velvet cloak over Raven Hollow, Lila was alone.
She paused under a crooked elm, panting lightly, her breath misting in the chill air. The flashlight flickered in her trembling hand, the beam dancing over gnarled roots and thorny underbrush. Her pencil and sketchbook were gone - abandoned somewhere along the trail when panic had begun to bite at her resolve.
Calm down, Lila, she scolded herself. You're not a child anymore.
A distant howl broke the hush of the forest. Not the yipping chorus of common wolves - this was a single, mournful cry that made her skin prickle. It sounded too close. Too lonely.
Her heart thundered against her ribs. She forced her legs to move, pushing through brambles that snagged her jeans and scratched her ankles raw. The beam caught fleeting glimpses of white mushrooms, dew-soaked ferns, the occasional glint of eyes that vanished before she could scream.
Then the ground betrayed her. Her boot slipped on damp moss, and before she could catch herself, she tumbled down a hidden slope, sharp branches whipping at her arms. She landed hard on her side, pain flaring bright in her wrist and ribs.
The flashlight rolled away, its beam spinning wildly until it struck a mossy stone and died. Darkness swallowed her in an instant.
For a heartbeat, Lila lay there, winded, blinking at the blur of moonlight peeking through the canopy above. She tasted blood where she'd bitten her lip.
And then - a low growl.
She froze. It rumbled again, deeper this time, like distant thunder rolling through her bones. Carefully, ignoring the sting in her wrist, she pushed herself upright.
Her eyes adjusted slowly, shapes emerging in the silvery wash of moonlight. She realized she had landed in a small clearing, encircled by ancient oaks. The air here felt... different. Heavy. Watching.
At the center of the clearing, half-shrouded in mist, stood a figure that shouldn't exist.
He - or it - was massive, nearly seven feet tall even hunched over. Fur as black as midnight clung to broad shoulders that glistened faintly under the moon. Clawed hands curled at his sides, and when his head lifted, she caught a glimpse of eyes - glowing gold, sharp and piercing, locking onto hers with a predator's focus.
The stories her grandmother had whispered at bedtime slammed into her mind all at once. The Midnight Wolf. The cursed beast. A man damned by an ancient sin to wander these woods under every full moon.
Her throat constricted. She tried to speak, but only a hoarse whisper escaped.
"Who... what are you?"
The wolf-man's growl turned into something closer to a sigh, rough and broken. He took one step forward, and Lila nearly collapsed backward in fright.
"Don't-!" Her voice cracked. She raised her hands in trembling surrender. Her heart drummed so loudly she was certain he could hear it.
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