The scream from the Thornwood still echoed in Ivy’s ears as Elias dragged her through Marlowe Manor’s heavy doors, his grip on her arm unyielding. The night air was sharp, thick with the scent of damp earth and something metallic, like blood. The forest loomed ahead, its twisted trees clawing at the sky, their roots pulsing with an unnatural rhythm. Ivy’s heart pounded, a mix of fear and defiance surging through her. Elias’s words—*“It’s begun”*—rang like a death knell, but she wasn’t some damsel to be hauled into danger without a fight. She yanked her arm free, planting her boots in the gravel.

“Tell me what’s going on,” she demanded, her voice cutting through the Thornwood’s whispers—*Ivy, Ivy, Ivy*—that seemed to know her better than she knew herself. “You said I’m a sacrifice. For what? And what’s out there?”

Elias’s silver eyes glinted in the moonlight, his face a mask of cold resolve, but a flicker of something—guilt, perhaps—betrayed him. “The Thornwood is alive,” he said, his voice low, precise. “It’s tied to your bloodline, to the pact. Something’s stirred it, and you’re the reason. We need to know what.”

“*We*?” Ivy snapped, her chest tight with the weight of his words. “You mean you, Lucian, and Damien? The ones who keep lying to me?” Her mind flashed to Damien’s kiss, the pain it left behind, and Lucian’s cryptic warning. Now Elias, with his icy logic, was pulling her into a forest that screamed danger. She wanted to trust him, to believe the fleeting warmth in his touch, but his talk of sacrifice made her blood run cold.

“You don’t have a choice,” Elias said, his tone softening, almost pleading. “If we don’t face this now, the Shadow Court will. And they won’t ask permission.”

Her jaw clenched, the memory of her parents’ faces in the mirror—screaming, swallowed by shadows—spurring her forward. “Fine,” she said, stepping toward the Thornwood. “But I’m not doing this for you. I’m doing it for me.”

Elias’s gaze lingered on her, a storm of emotions he wouldn’t voice, before he nodded and led the way. The forest closed around them, its branches like skeletal fingers, the whispers growing louder, more insistent. Ivy’s skin prickled, a strange energy humming in her veins, as if the Thornwood recognized her. The path was narrow, roots snaking across it like veins, pulsing faintly under the moonlight. She stayed close to Elias, his dagger glinting in his hand, but her eyes darted to the shadows, searching for the source of that scream.

A low growl broke the silence, and a creature lunged from the darkness—formless, made of writhing shadows, its eyes glowing red. Ivy froze, her heart slamming against her ribs, but instinct took over. She thrust out her hand, and a tendril of shadow shot from her palm, lashing the creature and sending it screeching into the trees. The air crackled, her body humming with power she didn’t understand.

Elias spun, his eyes wide. “How did you—” he started, but his words cut off as he grabbed her, pulling her behind him. “You shouldn’t be able to do that.”

“What was that?” Ivy’s voice trembled, not from fear but from the exhilaration coursing through her. She’d *done* something—wielded power, fought back. But the look in Elias’s eyes, a mix of awe and dread, tempered her thrill. “You said my bloodline’s tied to this place. Is that why I can… do that?”

He hesitated, his grip on her arm tightening. “Your magic is linked to the Thornwood,” he said, his voice low, urgent. “But using it draws attention. The Shadow Court will sense you now. You’ve just painted a target on your back.”

Her stomach dropped, the weight of his words sinking in. “Then why bring me here?” she asked, her voice rising. “To get me killed?”

Elias’s face softened, a rare crack in his icy facade. “To keep you alive,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t expect you to… awaken so soon. You’re more than I thought, Ivy.”

Her breath caught, his words stirring something deep—a spark of connection, of being *seen*. But before she could respond, heavy footsteps crashed through the underbrush. Lucian emerged, his dark hair wild, his stormy eyes blazing with fury. “What the hell are you doing, Duskbane?” he growled, his dagger drawn, aimed at Elias. “You brought her *here*? To the Thornwood?”

Elias stepped forward, unflinching. “She needs to know what she’s facing. Unlike you, I’m not hiding the truth.”

Lucian’s gaze snapped to Ivy, softening for a moment before hardening again. “You’re reckless,” he said to Elias, his voice low, dangerous. “You’ll get her killed.”

“Stop it!” Ivy shouted, stepping between them, her hands raised. “Both of you, just stop. I’m not a child, and I’m not your pawn.” Her voice shook, the memory of Damien’s draining kiss and Elias’s talk of sacrifice fueling her anger. “Lucian, you told me to run. Now you’re here. Why?”

Lucian’s jaw clenched, his eyes haunted. “Because I can’t let you die,” he said, his voice raw, breaking on the last word. “Not again.”

Her heart stopped. *Not again.* The words hit like a blade, and a vision flashed through her mind—clearer now than in the mirror. Her parents in the Thornwood, shadows consuming them, and Lucian’s silhouette, his dagger raised, his face twisted in anguish. She stumbled back, her breath hitching. “You were there,” she whispered, her voice trembling with betrayal. “When they died. You… you *knew* them.”

Lucian’s face crumpled, guilt etched into every line. “Ivy, I—” he started, but the words died as he reached for her, his hand shaking. She flinched, her heart torn between the pain in his eyes and the truth she couldn’t unsee.

“Enough,” Elias snapped, stepping between them, his dagger still drawn. “This isn’t the time. The Thornwood’s awake, and we’re not alone.”

Ivy’s pulse raced, her eyes darting to the trees. The whispers were louder now, a chorus of voices chanting her name. She pushed past Lucian and Elias, her feet carrying her deeper into the forest, drawn to a faint glow ahead. The men shouted after her, but she didn’t stop. She needed answers, not their secrets.

The glow led her to a clearing, where a stone slab stood, carved with her name—*Ivy Marlowe*—in glowing runes that pulsed like a heartbeat. Her breath caught, fear and awe warring within her. She reached out, her fingers hovering over the stone, and the whispers sharpened into a single voice, cold and clear: *“You’re next.”*

She spun, her heart hammering, but the clearing was empty—except for Lucian and Elias, catching up, their faces pale. “What is this?” she demanded, her voice shaking. “Who carved my name?”

Lucian’s eyes widened, his dagger falling to his side. “It wasn’t here before,” he said, his voice barely audible.

Elias’s gaze darkened, his hand tightening on his blade. “The Shadow Court,” he said. “They know you’re here.”

The ground trembled, the runes on the stone flaring brighter. Ivy’s vision blurred, the whispers rising to a scream. *You’re next.* Her heart pounded, the question burning: Who wanted her dead, and why was her name carved in this cursed place?