Chapter 49. Wolves Beyond the Grave

They stepped beyond the Bone Forest’s broken edge and into a land steeped in ghostly silence.

For a moment, Selene wondered whether they had crossed into a dream, or perhaps into death itself. The landscape stretched before them in muted shades of gray and silver, drained of color and warmth. Brittle grass bent beneath a wind that carried no scent, while sparse, twisted trees reached skyward like supplicants, their leaves dry and translucent as old skin. Above them, the sky churned with low, heavy clouds that cast neither true light nor shadow, creating a world suspended in perpetual dusk.

The wolves fanned out slowly, noses twitching, hackles raised. Selene felt it too—the profound absence of life. No insects stirred. No birds called. There was only the faint rasp of their breathing and the crunch of ash-stiff grass beneath their feet.