Torn Between Destinies-Chapter 44 - Forty Four

The fire in our hearth had burned down to embers, casting only the faintest glow across the wooden floorboards. Outside, the night pressed in like a held breath, heavy and unmoving. I hadn’t expected him to come.

But I felt him before he knocked.

The door creaked open, and there he stood. Darius. Still wearing yesterday’s shirt, dust clinging to his boots, jaw set with something deeper than anger or pain—fear.

I didn’t speak.

Neither did he, not at first. He just looked at me, like he was counting every breath I took, every beat of my heart, desperate to memorize me before the world took me away.

Then, finally, he stepped inside.

"I had a dream," he said, voice low.

I looked up from where I sat, lacing the last strap on my pack. "What did you see?"

He closed the door behind him. "The Vale. Or something close to it. Black vines that moved like snakes. Eyes in the trees. Screams from underground."

I nodded once. "You saw what waits for me."

He crossed the room, kneeling in front of me. His hands gripped mine, rough and warm. "Luciana, don’t go."

I smiled softly, but my chest ached. "Darius..."

"I’m not trying to stop you because I’m afraid of prophecy," he said. "I’m trying to stop you because I know what *lives* in the Vale. Wolves go missing there. Legends say creatures crawl beneath its roots—things that don’t fear moon or magic. Some say they feed on our kind."

"I know."

He shook his head. "No. You *think* you do. But I’ve spoken to wanderers, rogues, even an old seer once. They all said the same thing—*no one returns unchanged*. And most don’t return at all."

I rested my hand against his cheek. "That’s why I must go. Because something evil *is* growing there. If I don’t face it, we’ll be the ones who disappear—our daughter, this land, everyone."

He closed his eyes for a long moment, and when he opened them again, they were glassy. "Let me come with you. Just halfway. Just to the border."

I exhaled, torn. "You know that’s not how this works."

"Screw what the prophecy says."

"You said that last time."

"And I meant it."

I stood, and he rose with me, close enough that I could hear his heartbeat, fast and uneven. "If you follow me," I said gently, "you might curse the path. You might bring the darkness with you. I can’t take that risk."

He stared at me. "And what if *you* don’t come back?"

I reached up, fingers brushing his jaw. "Then you raise Erya to be stronger than me."

"No." His voice broke. "Don’t talk like that."

"Then believe I will return."

His hands gripped my waist, pulling me close. "I already lost you once—when you left Thornridge. You came back, yes, but you were changed. Harder. Wilder. The forest took a piece of you then. What if the Vale takes everything this time?"

I smiled through the tears forming in my eyes. "Then remember me like this. Standing here, not running, not afraid."

"Don’t lie. You are afraid."

I nodded. "Terrified."

He kissed me then—deep and desperate and slow, like he could buy time with every second our lips met. I tasted salt between us, and I didn’t know if it was from my tears or his.

When we parted, I held his face in both hands.

"Fate’s already at my door, Darius. I can hear it knocking."

He stared into me, searching, begging. "Then let me walk with you. Just until dawn."

I nodded.

---

We left the house in silence, the moon still high above the trees, stars scattered across the ink-black sky like shards of glass. The forest was quiet—too quiet, as if the world itself was waiting.

Darius didn’t speak again until we reached the edge of the glade, where the trees thickened and the air grew colder.

"This is where the path splits," I said.

He looked out into the forest, then back at me. "I hate this."

"I know."

He reached into his pocket again and pulled out a small carved token—a wolf’s head etched from bone. "Take this. It’s old. My father gave it to me when I first shifted."

I ran my thumb over it. "Thank you."

"Don’t thank me. Just come back."

I looked up at him, heart pounding. "You’ve been the best part of this journey, Darius. But this part... I walk alone."

He nodded, then took a slow step back. "Then walk well, Luna."

At that, I turned, slinging the pack over my shoulder, and stepped into the trees.

---

The forest swallowed me quickly. The further I walked, the heavier the air became. Even the moonlight struggled to pierce the thick canopy above. Each step was a promise, each breath a vow I couldn’t unmake.

Behind me, I knew Darius watched. I didn’t look back.

Not because I didn’t want to—but because I had to believe this path needed certainty, not regret.

The trees whispered above me. Not words, not quite—but sound. Breaths. Echoes of something older than my blood, older than wolves and wars and shattered lands.

This was the Vale’s mouth, and I had just stepped inside.

And still, my legs moved.

---

It wasn’t long before the path vanished.

There were no markers, no roads—only instinct. Only the pull of something deep and ancient threading through my bones. The land itself seemed to hum, like a heartbeat rising from the roots below.

Somewhere ahead, I knew the trials waited.

Somewhere ahead, fate would show me what it truly wanted.

But I would not flinch.

Because even if I never returned—this was the choice I made when I first opened my eyes in Thornridge, when I first shifted beneath the moon, when I chose to lead not as a Luna, but as a woman of fire and howl and heart.

The forest began to shift.

A low growl echoed in the distance.

I clutched the token Darius gave me, held it close to my chest.

And I walked deeper, into the unknown.