Chapter 20: The Hollow’s Grip

The forest crept closer. Lucien could feel it pressing against the edges of the manor, an invisible weight curling around the stone walls like claws. It pulsed with quiet malice, patient and unrelenting, waiting for him to crack. And he was close to cracking. Every night, the dreams returned — the shade wearing his mother’s face, the voice echoing through the darkness, whispering promises of release. And every morning, he woke with the taste of blood on his tongue, his body aching like he’d been fighting in his sleep. He didn’t know how much longer he could hold on. But he had to. Because the pack was watching. Because Serena was watching. And if he fell, they’d all fall with him. --- Serena knelt in the garden, her fingers buried in the soil, trying to steady her breathing. The herbs wilted faster now, their roots blackened, the corruption spreading beyond the forest and into the land itself. Even the earth was sick. She wiped her hands on her pants, swallowing her frustra