I didn’t mean to go this far.
The trail vanished an hour ago, and the trees shouldn’t be this tall, this still. Everything felt off—the air too quiet, the ground too soft, the light too silver. It clung to the fog like silk, spilling over bark and branch like someone had painted the forest with moonlight.
But I couldn’t turn back.
Something pulled me forward.
Not a sound exactly. More like a feeling. Like the beat of a song I didn’t know I remembered, thumping low in my ribs. Every step deeper into the woods made my skin tighten, my thighs press closer together. The night tasted like nectar and heat.
And then I saw him.
He was standing between the trees like he’d always been there. Like the forest had grown around him.
No shirt. No shoes. Just pale skin like polished stone and hair
