"\"Go if you must, Rory, but don't stay long. Time slips there.\" Aurora had laughed it off then, but after the dreams started—whispers of silver chains and crimson glows—she'd traced the paths from her flat above Silas's bar, dodging late-night deliveries for Yu-Fei's to follow a hunch."
1
"No streetlamps pierced this pocket; the oaks blocked the city's glow, leaving only slivers of moonlight to dance across the grass."
2
"She wasn't prone to fancy; law books and abusive exes had beaten that out of her long before London swallowed her whole."
3
"One delivery route had taught her patience—dodging traffic on the Embankment, navigating Silas's rowdy patrons."
4
"The flowers grew denser here, a carpet of blues and whites that released a faint, sweet scent when she disturbed them—honeyed, but undercut with something sharper, like crushed nettles."
5
"The bark bore no marks, but as she passed behind it, a shadow flickered at the edge of her vision—quick, like a bird's wing, gone before she turned fully."
6
"Brendan, her father, had always said that—barrister's logic over Welsh superstition."
7
"Aurora spun, torch catching a ripple in the grass—waves moving against no wind, converging on her boots."
8
"As she neared, a whisper slithered from the branches—words, almost, in a tongue that tugged at memory."
9
"There—footprints, faint impressions in the soil, too long for human, toes splayed like roots."
10
"But the shadows between the oaks deepened, pooling like ink, and in their depths, eyes—pale, luminous—winked out as she stared."
11
"The park's distant traffic hum had faded entirely, leaving only the grove's symphony—rustles, whispers, the soft pad of unseen steps drawing nearer."
12
"A shape darted at the corner of her eye—tall, slender, limbs too fluid—vanishing into the oaks."
13
"Something grasped her ankle—cold fingers, bark-rough, yanking her down."
14
"Then the whispers coalesced into a single voice, her name twisted—Rory, Laila, Malphora—coiling around her like vines."