I stood upright before the forest, the wolf opposite me, motionless with its heavy breath breaking the silence, staring at me intently. I couldn’t find any other option besides two. If I stayed in the same spot, I’d starve until I found another solution—if I found one. I didn’t want to wait for someone else to arrive, unsure if they’d be friend or foe.

  My choices were to cross over, which would put me at a disadvantage against the wolf and the forest—and against all the dangers on the other side—or to never leave the forest. Yes, the wolf never set a time limit for how long it would protect me, but that surely hid a trap.

  The darkness in the forest wouldn’t let me see, making it easy to lose my way. The wolf had promised only protection, not to keep me from stumbling or to feed me. It knew the dangers and our limits better than we did, those of us dragged here against our will. But for now, staying and continuing through the forest seemed like the only way—or at least the best choice.

  I turned my face to the sky, noting the castle and the moon above it, and began walking into the forest. My goal was to head straight toward the castle through it, or at least with minimal deviation.

  When only two steps remained between the trees, behind me I heard horses galloping and carriage wheels turning on the road. I spun my entire body around and immediately spotted the carriage—a aristocratic red one—rounding the bend and heading toward me. I stood my ground, waiting to see what would happen. It was very likely the carriage’s passenger was a prince.

  And indeed. The driver dismounted his seat—a headless body, or rather, I could only make out the clothes, not the form. It might not even be alive—and opened the carriage door. Moments later, a dark-haired man with a neatly trimmed beard stepped out: muscular with a massive build, dressed in a suit, and on his left chest, the brooch Kopos and the girl had described—a lion attacking a deer.

  He glanced fleetingly at me with his eyes as he turned his head to survey the surroundings, simultaneously running his hands through his hair. But when he saw the wolf’s red eyes, he stopped and half-smiled with a touch of irony. Then, from the other side of the carriage, another man descended—more cheerful than the prince, also formally dressed, but not matching the descriptions of Delphinos or Porfyros, nor Eftis’s attire. They wore only black and white. His suit was gray, with a blue tie.

  He then said to the prince, having spotted the red eyes behind my back:

  “Ha, usually he hides in the shadows as soon as we arrive—what happened now that the master welcomes us?”

  “Probably tired of trying to sabotage me and now wants a reward from my ascension to the throne,” the prince replied.

  The wolf remained silent, motionless. Its breath had vanished, and its feet made no sound, only giving the impression it was exercising patience.

  I, on the other hand, didn’t know the best choice at this moment. I considered tricking the prince and his attendant, but as I opened my mouth to speak, my voice faltered. He shot me a quick, fierce, absolute glance with the corner of his eye. I felt the urge to retreat immediately into the forest.

  Stolen novel; please report.

  “Did you bring this one?” the attendant asked. “If we need to get him across.”

  “No,” the prince replied, not even bothering to look at me again. “One of the others must have. But to approach the forest while the master’s eyes are visible, he must have made a deal with it—he wouldn’t need us. So, what do you say—shall we dispose of him?”

  “With great pleasure,” the attendant replied cheerfully.

  He assumed a runner’s stance before a race and, with a motion of his foot, appeared before me, his hand ready to punch my face. Fortunately, I had already started stepping backward. I stumbled, and I fell just over halfway into the forest, immediately pulled deeper by the wolf.

  “Why protect him, master? I thought you hated all the king’s descendants,” the prince’s attendant asked, but the wolf remained silent, ignoring them.

  “At least, can you tell us the name of the prince who brought you here, young man?” the attendant asked again.

  I wasn’t sure if it was wise to tell the truth now—it didn’t seem prudent—but it also felt like a good chance to finally learn who killed my family, or to learn anything in general.

  “His name is Eftis,” I replied.

  I was still between the first and second trees of the forest and could see their reactions, though blurred. The attendant turned to the prince and urged him to calm down, while the prince, visibly enraged, clenched his teeth and shouted with all the force in his lungs:

  “AGAIN THE BASTARD—THE BASTARD LIVES, AGAIN AGAIN AGAIN.”

  The attendant didn’t approach him, standing motionless at the forest’s entrance, angry and somewhat fearful of the prince’s reaction, no longer speaking.

  “Vardas, now I want this human dead—we’re entering the forest. I want him dead, hear me, dead. Nothing left, not a scrap for the forest whelps. Let them and their bastard go to hell. How dare he participates in the succession game without the courage or audacity to face us after what he did,” the prince said again in a loud voice.

  Suddenly, the girl’s story flashed in my mind—how one of the princes entered the forest and killed the creatures inside with little difficulty. And then I connected it to his attendant, Vardas, who seemed to possess superhuman speed and, apparently, strength far greater than Kopos’s.

  I looked the wolf in the eyes and saw it hadn’t moved from its spot. It didn’t fear them or believe they’d enter the forest—I didn’t know which—but I no longer felt the safety it had promised. The prince began walking toward the forest again, with quicker steps this time, and Vardas turned his body to enter. In a lightning move, the wolf extended from the darkness one of its hands—with four fingers forming a spear—pierced Vardas’s chest, and pinned him to the ground. Blood spurted immediately from his mouth and chest. The wolf’s hand began smoking but didn’t withdraw from Vardas’s chest, holding him in place. Though such a strike would kill a human instantly, Vardas struggled to free himself.

  The prince, undeterred, approached the forest, and in what felt like a single moment—without me even realizing—he reached the trees. Then the wolf exposed itself to the light—not just a hand this time, but its legs, body, and head. Smoke rose from its entire form, but it seemed indifferent to the pain. It lowered its head toward the prince and said:

  “Truly, could you speak so arrogantly if you knew I could come to you? I think you’d do better to step back. The forest is mine. And if any of you enter again, none will leave alive—tell that to your other brothers.”

  They stared at each other for a moment until the wolf retreated backward into the forest. The prince said nothing more, only returned to the carriage and left. Vardas remained on the ground, struggling to survive, though it seemed unlikely he’d make it. The wolf looked at me again without speaking. I understood it was the signal to proceed deeper into the forest, somewhere they couldn’t find me. And that’s what I did. I stood and began vanishing into the darkness among the trees.