𝓑𝓮𝓪𝓼𝓽'𝓼 𝓜𝓸𝓸𝓷

Chapter-36

*•.¸♡ AUTHOR'S POV ♡¸.•*

When Myra opened her eyes, she was stunned. The forest's darkness surrounded her, tall trees looming like silent sentinels.

Her heart raced, and momentarily, she couldn't understand where she was. She stood there, in the middle of the woods, but just moments ago, hadn't she been in her room, beside Diego?

How did I get here? What is this place?

Her breath hitched as she scanned her surroundings. The ground was littered with fallen branches, and the air smelled of damp earth and decay.

The only light came from the moon, casting a pale glow through the canopy above. Its light spilled softly over the forest floor, illuminating the path just enough to see, but not enough to make her feel at ease.

For a moment, panic crept in, the fear of being kidnapped or lost in the woods gripping her. But then, a memory surfaced—the strange dream she had a few days ago, where she met the Moon Goddess.

Is this... like that?

Myra's mind raced, the confusion turning into a strange mix of awe and fear. She began to walk aimlessly, her feet moving almost without thought, each step taken in the silence of the forest.

She had no idea where she was going, but something inside her urged her forward. Then, without warning, she stopped. Her breath caught as her eyes locked onto something unusual.

Near the base of a tree, partially hidden in the shadows, something was lying on the ground. Her brow furrowed, instinctively drawn to it. What was it?

With slow, cautious steps, Myra approached, her gaze fixed on the mysterious object. Each movement seemed to draw her closer, even as a part of her warned her to turn back.

As Myra approached the tree, a soft, agonized whimper broke the stillness of the night. The sound was faint, almost drowned out by the rustling of the leaves, but it pierced her chest with deep, aching sorrow. She paused, her heart racing as her eyes scanned the dark shadows around her.

And then, she saw them.

A man and a woman lay side by side, their bodies cruelly battered and bloodied. They were lifeless, their skin pale and cold, but their arms still clung to each other as if refusing to let go, even in death. The sight of their final embrace sent a chill through Myra's bones.

And nestled between them, pressed close to their bodies, was a tiny lion cub. It was whimpering, its small frame shaking with fear, its soft cries almost too much for Myra to bear. The cub, too, was cradled as though it was their child, their last, desperate act of protection.

Myra's hand flew to her mouth, her breath catching in her throat as tears welled in her eyes. Horror and sorrow flooded her, overwhelming her senses. She couldn't comprehend what she was seeing. With trembling hands, she moved forward, compelled to comfort the cub, to somehow ease its pain.

But as she reached out, her palm passed through the lifeless bodies. There was no warmth, no solidity—just the cold emptiness of a world where she didn't belong. It felt as if she had become a phantom, unable to connect with the reality that lay before her.

Myra stood frozen, her hand still reaching toward the lifeless bodies, but it felt as though she had become a ghost—unable to touch, unable to connect.

Shock washed over her in waves as she tried again, her fingers trembling as they passed through the bodies, once more finding nothing solid. Her chest tightened, and panic rose in her throat. She couldn't understand what was happening—nothing felt real, yet everything was so vividly present.