Chapter 47: Trapped

Chapter 47: Chapter 47: Trapped The night air was sharp and cold against Lily’s skin as she slipped through the trees. She moved quietly, her bare feet barely making a sound over the damp earth. The forest was thick, but the darkness didn’t bother her. She could see well enough. Just a little farther, she told herself. You can do this. When she reached the clearing, she paused and looked down. The old stone vault sat half-sunken into the earth. Lily glanced around once—twice. No one. Only the hum of the woods, the buzz of insects, and the distant hoot of an owl. She crouched down and gently pressed her hand against the seal of the vault trapdoor. It unlocked with a satisfying click. Lily pulled the door open. Inside, the air was cooler, heavy with the scent of old paper, stone, and dust. She stepped in and the door quietly closed above her. Lily remembered seeing a small lamp previously. Despite the lack of proper lighting, she navigated confidently, brushing her fingers against the wall until they found the small box of matches they had left last time. Her hands shook slightly as she struck one. The tiny flame flared, casting a dim orange glow across the vast, dusty room. On the far wall, a single candle sat where they’d left it. She lit it carefully, shielding the flame with her hand, and the vault brightened just enough to see. Rows of tomes lined the shelves. Scrolls. Fragments of things ancient and forgotten. Lily took a slow breath, letting the musty scent settle in her lungs. Step by step, she looked at the rows filled with knowledge. Most beyond her own understanding. She felt a pull. A quiet hum in the back of her mind. A tug that pulled her towards it, to move without thinking.. Past broken shelves, past forgotten relics. She didn’t know what she was looking for. But somehow, she knew she would feel it when she found it. And she did. Her fingers brushed along the spines until she paused. A thick, battered book hummed under her touch. Not literally—but in that strange, buzzing way that pulled at her chest. It called to her. Just like the totems had. Her hand hovered over a thick, battered book lying half-buried under a pile of scrolls. She pulled it, coughing a little at the dust it kicked up. Her fingers brushed the cracked leather cover. It was warm. How? Lily swallowed hard. She glanced over her shoulder once, a quick flash of fear tightening her gut. No one followed you. You’re safe. Just breathe. Turning back to the book, she carefully lifted it free, the candlelight flickering across the faded symbols stamped into the cover. The writing wasn’t like anything she knew. Strange lines and curves that seemed to shift if she looked too long. Her fingers traced one symbol almost instinctively. Then she set it aside as the pull grew stronger toward another book. This one was thinner, with a dark leather cover stamped with symbols she couldn’t read. And a third—small, almost hidden behind a stack of broken scrolls. All three gave her that same tug. That same strange pull deep in her mind. Heart racing, she carried them back to the table and set them down gently. She opened the first book. The writing was rough but written mostly in the common language. She leaned in, mouthing the words silently as she read. "Through sacrifice, the cursed form awakens." "Twenty-eight souls, claimed under the hidden moon, one for each night she sleeps." Her hands trembled slightly as she turned the page. Rough sketches filled the margins. A creature, torn from flesh—half-wolf, half-man. Her breath caught. It looked exactly like what Zayn had become that night. Muscles too big for his frame. Teeth longer, sharper. Eyes wild, burning red. She flipped open the second book. More drawings. More blood. Wolves bound to stone altars under a moonless sky. Their lives were given one by one to fuel something monstrous. "When the ritual fails," the text read, "the mind fractures. The beast devours what remains. The wolf is lost to rage and ruin." Lily swallowed hard, pressing a hand to her mouth. The vault felt colder all of a sudden. She opened the third book slowly. This one had fewer words—mostly pictures and runes—but the message was clear enough. Wolves chained in silver. Claws ripping free of their hands. Screams drawn in rough, jagged ink. Zayn’s face flashed in her mind—broken, wild, snarling in pain—and Lily’s heart twisted painfully. Did he choose this? Did someone do this to him? And now it was killing him slowly from the inside out? The book slipped from Lily’s hands and hit the stone floor with a heavy thud. It sounded louder than thunder in the stillness of the vault. She stiffened, heart slamming against her ribs. "Who’s there?" The voice snapped through the quiet. Zayn had been making his final rounds for the night, walking the far edges of the packgrounds, when something strange caught his eye. A faint rustle broke the silence, followed by the soft creak of broken branches. Zayn’s eyes narrowed as he spotted a shadow slipping between the trees near the old grove. He frowned, slowing his steps. No one was supposed to be out there. Especially not near the secret vault. The guards should’ve already done the last sweep. Everyone should’ve been asleep or locked inside. His instincts bristled. Quietly, he veered off the main path, moving toward the vault. The closer he got, the more certain he became. Someone had opened the vault. And someone was inside. Zayn’s jaw tightened. He picked up his pace, keeping low and silent. His boots barely made a sound against the cold, damp ground. The door was cracked open just enough for him to see the flicker of light inside. He hesitated at the threshold for half a second—then stepped in. He scanned the rows of crumbling shelves, his body tense. And then— THUD! A book crashed to the floor somewhere farther in. The sound snapped through the vault like a whip crack. Zayn’s hand dropped instinctively to the dagger strapped to his belt. "Who’s there?" he barked, stepping into the deeper shadows. He rounded the shelf and froze. A slim figure stood in the center of the vault, caught like a rabbit in a trap. Small hands shaking, shoulders drawn tight, head lowered. Lily! For a heartbeat, he just stared, stunned. Of all people... why her? Why now? “Lily?” he said, voice rough with confusion. Panic and fear consumed her. Lily backtracked further into the vault. She looked around frantically for an alternate route of escape. Zayn saw it. The way her body stiffened. The way her fingers twitched. “Wait—” he started. But she was already moving. Lily’s heart punched against her ribs as she stumbled back. The shadows around Zayn twisted and stretched, making him look bigger, more dangerous. Her instincts screamed at her to run. But she was trapped, where else could she run? She heard him curse under his breath. Then his footsteps followed, heavy and fast. "Lily, why are you here? Stop! Where are you going?" Zayn’s voice cut through the darkness. The shelves blurred past her. Old scrolls and dusty tomes were scattered around her feet. The air was thick and hot and suffocating. Zayn caught up quickly, his long strides quickly closing the space between them. He hated how she flinched from him. How she ran like he was something to be feared. "Lily," he called again, softer. "I swear. I’m not going to hurt you." Lily reached the back of the vault. It was a dead end. Her hands fumbled against the cold stone wall. She was trapped. Panic clawed at her throat. She whipped around, eyes wide, chest heaving. Zayn slowed when he saw how cornered she looked. He held his hands out, palms open, like approaching a frightened animal. "Easy," he said lowly. "It’s okay." Lily shook her head frantically, edging sideways. Zayn took one cautious step closer. "I just want to know why you’re here," he said, his voice hoarse. "And why are you so damn scared of me?" Lily’s mouth opened. Closed. No sound came out. She hesitated, unable to form her thoughts into words. She took another step back, causing her to trip on a loose floorboard. She fell hard onto her side, hitting the ground with a thud. From her pocket, something small and heavy tumbled out. A totem.