The Lycan's Hidden Flame

Elsa

I froze in place, my breath catching in my throat as I pressed my ear against the crack in the door.

"She'll fetch a good price," Zoran said, his voice low and oily. "The cult doesn't care about her scars or her attitude. They only need her to complete the ritual."

My stomach dropped. The cult. I'd heard whispers about them in town—people disappearing, strange rituals, the kind of stories you told kids to keep them in line. But now, those whispers were about me.

"Are you sure she won't fight back?" another voice asked, gruff and impatient.

Zoran laughed, the sound cold and heartless. "She's weak. She knows better than to cross me."

My knees buckled, and I gripped the doorframe for support. The room spun, but I forced myself to stay quiet, my pulse roaring in my ears. I wasn't just an inconvenience to Zoran anymore—I was a commodity.

"Done," the other man said. "We'll pick her up tonight."

I didn't wait to hear more. Quietly, I backed away from the door, my heart hammering as I stumbled toward the window. My small room looked the same as always—bare walls, a sagging bed, and the single bookshelf my mother left behind.

My mother.

The thought of her made my throat tighten, but I shook it off. There wasn't time for that. My step-uncle was selling me to a cult. I had to leave. Now.

I grabbed my backpack from the corner and shoved in anything I could think of: my wallet, a flashlight, a half-eaten granola bar. My hands shook as I zipped it up.

The Shadow Forest. It was the only place they wouldn't follow me.

My fingers hovered over the windowsill. The forest loomed beyond Zoran's property, its dark expanse swallowing what little moonlight reached it. Everyone said it was cursed, filled with monsters that made you disappear without a trace. But even monsters seemed better than the cult.

I climbed out the window, the cold night air biting at my skin.

The ground was damp beneath my sneakers as I darted across the backyard, keeping low. Every sound felt amplified—the rustle of leaves, the creak of the fence as I slipped through it, the pounding of my own heartbeat.

"She's gone!" Zoran's voice bellowed behind me, making me flinch.

The porch light snapped on, spilling across the yard. "Find her! Now!"

I didn't wait for them to get organized. I sprinted toward the tree line, the forest swallowing me whole.

Branches whipped at my face and tangled in my hair as I pushed deeper into the woods. The air was heavier here, damp and suffocating, but I couldn't stop. My legs burned, my lungs ached, but the sound of footsteps crashing through the underbrush behind me spurred me on.

"Elsa!" Zoran shouted, closer than before. "You can't outrun us!"

Panic tightened my chest. I could hear them now—multiple voices, their chant low and rhythmic, carrying through the trees like a sinister lullaby.

"Vessel. Vessel. Vessel."

The word made my skin crawl. I stumbled over a root, catching myself just in time, but my momentum faltered.

"Don't fight this!" one of the voices called.

I ignored them, pushing forward even as my body screamed for rest. The forest grew darker, the shadows deeper, until I couldn't tell if my pursuers were still behind me or if the forest itself had come alive.

Then I saw it.

A pair of glowing golden eyes, cutting through the darkness like twin beacons.

I skidded to a stop, my breath hitching. The figure was massive, its silhouette blending into the shadows. A low growl rumbled through the air, and I instinctively took a step back.

"What is that?" one of the cultists shouted, their voice tinged with fear.

Before anyone could react, the creature lunged.

It was chaos.

Screams filled the air as the beast tore through them, its movements impossibly fast. I couldn't look away, frozen as blood splattered the forest floor. The chanting stopped, replaced by panicked cries and the sickening sound of flesh meeting claws.

One of the cultists tried to run, but the beast was on them in an instant, its glowing eyes blazing with fury.

I stumbled backward, my foot catching on a root. The world tilted as I fell, landing hard on the forest floor. Pain shot through my shoulder, but I barely registered it.

The creature turned toward me.

My breath caught as it stepped closer, its golden eyes locking onto mine. I couldn't move, couldn't breathe, as it loomed over me.

Then, to my shock, it began to change.

The black fur receded, the hulking frame shrinking until a man stood where the beast had been. His dark hair was disheveled, his sharp features illuminated by the faint glow of his still-golden eyes.

"Who—" My voice cracked, but I forced myself to speak. "Who are you?"

He didn't answer, his gaze cold and assessing as it raked over me.

"Kieran," one of the men with him said, stepping into view. "What should we do with her?"

"Take her to the estate," he said, his tone clipped and commanding.

"What? No!" I scrambled to my feet, backing away. "I'm not going anywhere with you."

Kieran's eyes narrowed, and he took a step closer. "You're not in a position to argue."

I shook my head, my fear giving way to anger. "I didn't ask for your help! I just wanted to get away—"

"And you ran straight into danger," he interrupted, his voice low and sharp. "If I hadn't been here, you'd be dead—or worse."

I opened my mouth to argue, but the weight of his words silenced me.

"Bring her," he ordered again, turning away. "And make sure no one follows."

Two of his men grabbed me by the arms, their grips firm but not painful. I struggled, but it was no use.

"You can't just—"

"Be quiet," Kieran said without looking back. "You'll thank me later."

I doubted that.

As they dragged me through the forest, the last remnants of the cultists' cries faded into silence, leaving only the sound of my own racing heart.