"Get dressed."
Uncle Boric's gruff voice shattered the quiet, low and coarse like gravel under boots—impatient, unyielding.
Luna startled, eyes snapping up from the book in her lap. The worn, dog-eared pages slipped from her fingers, landing on the floor with a soft whisper. She blinked at him, confused.
"W-What…?" she asked, voice unsure, almost dazed. Like she'd misheard. Like this was a dream she hadn't quite woken from.
"I said get dressed." He grunted, already turning away. "I'm takin' you out."
Her breath caught.
'What…? Going out?'
Luna rose slowly, hesitantly. "We're… going out, Uncle?"
Boric threw a glance over his shoulder. His brows creased in familiar irritation, the kind she'd grown up learning to avoid. "Do I need to repeat myself? You gone deaf now?"
She flinched, instinctively shrinking back.
But still… her mind raced.
'He's never taken me anywhere.''Not once. Not ever.'
Not to town. Not to markets. Not even for a short walk to the fields like he did with his daughters. In all the years she'd lived in his house, she had always been kept. Never included. Never taken.
"Is… is it because it's my birthday?" she asked quietly, voice trembling at the edges with hope she didn't know she still had.
Her 21st. A whole life made of quiet corners, swallowed words, and long, invisible years. Somehow, despite everything, some part of her still wanted to believe he'd remembered.
Boric exhaled sharply and rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah, yeah. That. Birthday. Just hurry up. You drag your feet, I'll leave you behind."
She stared at him a second longer—uncertain, searching his face for a crack, a sign, anything—but he wouldn't meet her eyes.
Still, she stood. Her heart bloomed, fragile and pink, beating against her ribs with cautious joy.
She dressed in a rush, fumbling into the nicest clothes she owned—simple, but clean. Maybe something had shifted. Maybe this was the start of something new. Something different.
Maybe—
The floor vanished.
Her body lurched.
She hit the ground, hard, air punched from her lungs. The room was gone.
The air was no longer stale and dusty—it was wet, rich, earthy. Pine and soil filled her nose. Her palms scraped across damp moss and fallen leaves.
She was in a forest.
Disoriented, Luna pushed herself up, dirt smeared across her hands. Her chest heaved as she looked around.
Then she saw him.
Boric stood just ahead.
But he wasn't alone.
An old man stood facing him—tall and straight-backed, wrapped in dark leathers and furs, regal in a wild, untamed way. His silver hair hung like ropes of moonlight. The men behind him were tense, silent, armed.
The air buzzed with something old. Dangerous.
The old man's eyes fell on Luna.
He stared like he was beholding something holy. Something coveted.
"After so many years…" he said, his voice reverent, rough with age, "we've finally found one. A broodmare."
'Broodmare…?'
The word slammed into her like a slap. Her stomach turned violently.
'No. That's… that's what they call breeding horses. That's…'
Her breath caught. She felt sick.
"How much do you want for her?" the old man asked calmly, like he was asking for livestock. Like she wasn't even there.
Luna's eyes snapped to Boric. Panic surged.
"Uncle…? What's going on? Who are these people?"
But he didn't answer.
Didn't look at her.
Didn't even flinch.
"I don't want money," Boric said. "I want immunity—for my daughters. I heard your kind was getting close. I don't care what happens to this one. Just leave my girls alone."
Luna's heart shattered in her chest.
She couldn't breathe.
The men behind the old one chuckled—low and cruel.
Tears blurred her vision as her voice cracked. "Uncle… no. Please. Take me home. I want to go home!"
She scrambled to her feet, reaching toward him. Desperate. Begging.
But he stepped back.
Like she was a threat. Like she was a stranger.
The distance stretched.
The space between them grew and grew—impossibly, unfairly—until it felt like the world itself was pulling him away.
"Uncle!" she screamed. "Please! Don't leave me!"
She ran. She called his name.
She sobbed until her voice gave out.
But he didn't turn back.
No one stopped him.
And the forest swallowed him whole.
"Uncle!"
Luna jolted upright, the word ripping from her throat like a raw tear. Her voice cracked, broken and desperate, as cold sweat clung to her skin in clammy sheets. Her heart pounded against her chest like it was trying to escape, wild and uneven—terrified.
She clawed at the blankets, gasping, vision swimming behind a haze of tears.
This wasn't her room.
No concrete floor. No brittle cold seeping through a paper-thin blanket. No buzzing bulb overhead, always threatening to die out.
She was somewhere else. Somewhere wrong.
A room—spacious, wooden, foreign.
The bed beneath her was soft. Luxurious.
The air was too clean. Too quiet. It carried the scent of aged timber and mossy damp, like the hush of a forest after rain. Faint lantern light glowed from the walls, soft and gold—flickering like fireflies caught in glass.
'Where... where am I?'
Then—A sound.
Muffled. Fragile. Like someone choking on fear.
Luna stiffened, breath caught mid-thought. Her head snapped toward the noise.
There—huddled low beside the bed—was a girl. Maybe twenty-five. Her skin was pale beneath grime, eyes swollen from crying. A filthy cloth gagged her mouth, her hands tied tightly behind her back.
She whimpered again, body trembling like a leaf in winter. Her eyes locked onto Luna's—wide, wet, pleading.
Luna's stomach twisted.
'She's scared… of me?'
"Hello?" Luna croaked, voice careful, almost gentle. She studied the girl—small, frightened, clearly human. No fangs. No glowing eyes. No scent of wolf on her skin.
She wasn't one of them.
The girl flinched. Took a shaky step back.
"It's okay... I'm not going to hurt you," Luna said, trying again. Her voice was softer now, uncertain. She shifted, meaning to reach out—to comfort, maybe—
But stopped cold.
Her hands—
They were bound.
Tightly. Coarse rope digging into her wrists, red and sore.
'How did I miss this?' Luna's heart sank. She lifted her arms slowly, showing the girl. "C-Can you... can you help me, please?"
Her voice cracked on the last word.
The girl didn't move. Just stared, silently shaking. Her eyes shimmered with terror.
Luna stared back, confused and quietly unraveling. 'Why is she so afraid? I'm the one tied up.'
She opened her mouth to ask, to say something—anything—
But then the sound came.
A soft click. A scrape. The rattle of metal sliding back.
The door.
It had been locked.
And now... it was opening.
Someone was coming in.