Run: 2026-09-25-01M3CKHSE091AJRZ2JM893P5K3

The ancient oaks loomed like sentinels, their gnarled branches twisting into the moonless sky. Aurora stepped over the threshold of the standing stones, her boots sinking slightly into the damp earth. The air smelled of wet moss and something older, something that prickled the hairs on her arms. She adjusted the strap of her bag, fingers brushing the Heartstone pendant tucked beneath her shirt. Its warmth pulsed faintly against her skin. She shouldn’t have come at night. The thought slithered in, unwelcome. But the note had been clear—*meet at the Grove, midnight, alone.* No signature, no explanation. Just the same handwriting as the letter that had delivered the pendant. She exhaled, her breath misting in the cold. The wildflowers at her feet glowed faintly, their petals shimmering with an unnatural sheen. Time moved differently here. She’d learned that the hard way. A twig snapped. Aurora froze. The sound had come from behind her, but when she turned, there was nothing. Just the trees, their bark blackened with age, their roots coiling like serpents in the underbrush. She forced herself to move forward, her pulse thudding in her throat. The Grove was supposed to be empty. Isolde had warned her—*no one lingers after dark.* Another sound. A whisper of fabric, the faintest rustle of leaves. She spun, scanning the shadows. Nothing. Just the wind, maybe. Or the Fae, playing their games. “Stop messing around,” she muttered, her voice too loud in the stillness. No answer. The pendant grew warmer. She pulled it out, the crimson gem casting a dim, bloody light over her palm. It pulsed, slow and steady, like a heartbeat. The note had said *bring it.* She tightened her grip. The wrongness in the air thickened, pressing against her skin like a living thing. A shadow shifted at the edge of her vision. She whipped her head around. The trees stood still. Too still. No birds, no insects—just the oppressive silence of a place holding its breath. Then, a voice. Soft. Melodic. A woman’s laugh, light as a breeze, but it sent a chill down Aurora’s spine. “Looking for someone?” Aurora’s fingers clenched around the pendant. The voice had come from everywhere and nowhere, wrapping around her like a shroud. She turned in a slow circle, her boots crunching on the damp earth. “Who’s there?” The laughter came again, closer this time. A flicker of movement—pale skin, dark hair, a flash of teeth too white to be human. Then gone. Aurora’s breath hitched. She knew the stories. The Fae didn’t play fair. “Show yourself,” she demanded, her voice steadier than she felt. A sigh, like the wind through the leaves. Then, from the darkness, a figure stepped into the faint glow of the pendant’s light. Tall. Slender. Hair like spun silver, eyes like polished obsidian. She wore a dress that seemed woven from shadows, shifting and changing as Aurora watched. The woman smiled, her lips curling just enough to show the points of her teeth. “You’re brave, Aurora Carter. Or foolish.” Aurora’s grip on the pendant didn’t loosen. “Who are you?” The woman tilted her head, her gaze flicking to the pendant. “You know why you’re here.” “I know I was told to come.” “And yet, you hesitate.” The woman took a step forward, her bare feet making no sound on the earth. “You feel it, don’t you? The wrongness.” Aurora’s throat tightened. She did feel it. The air was too thick, too heavy. Like the world itself was bending around them. “What do you want?” The woman’s smile widened. “The same thing you do. Answers.” Aurora’s pulse spiked. “About the pendant?” The woman’s eyes gleamed. “About *him.*” The words hit like a blow. *Him.* Evan. The name burned in her mind, but she didn’t say it. Didn’t dare. The woman took another step closer. “He’s coming, Aurora. And when he does, you’ll wish you’d never left Cardiff.” Aurora’s stomach twisted. She’d spent years running, years hiding. And now, in this place, with this creature, the past was catching up. The pendant flared, its glow searing against her palm. The woman hissed, recoiling as if burned. “You’re not welcome here,” Aurora said, her voice low. The woman’s laughter echoed through the Grove, bouncing off the trees like a living thing. “Oh, but I am. And so is he.” The shadows around them deepened, pressing in. Aurora’s breath came fast, her heart hammering. The wrongness was a physical weight now, crushing her chest. Then, the first scream tore through the night. Not hers. Not the woman’s. Something else. Something *other.* The woman’s smile vanished. “He’s early.” Aurora didn’t wait. She turned and ran, her boots pounding against the earth as the Grove itself seemed to twist around her. The standing stones loomed ahead, her only way out. Behind her, the laughter started again, but it was different now. Harsher. Hungrier. And then, the second scream. Closer. She didn’t look back.