Elira did not sleep that night.
The forest's whispers echoed in her ears long after she returned to her chamber.
The voice—it had sounded just like her mother.
Not similar.
Identical.
That warmth, that tone, the way she used to say Elira's name before bedtime… it couldn't have been coincidence.
Yet Mareel had insisted it was a trick.
A trap.
So, who was lying?
The forest… or the Beast?
As dawn painted the sky with pale gold, Elira marched toward the upper terrace where she had last seen him.
The Hollow Court was quiet, save for the ever-present hum of magic in the air.
The forest was never silent—but today, it felt… expectant.
She found the Beast standing near a pool of mirror-like water, his reflection blurred in the ripples.
He did not look at her when she approached.
"You heard the forest," he said before she could speak.
"Did it wear your mother's voice?"
Elira froze. "Yes. How did you know?"
"It always chooses the voice that will hurt the most."
His tone was flat, but there was something buried in it—something bitter and hollow.
Elira stepped closer. "Why does it do that? What is it?"
"The forest is alive, Elira.
Not just in the way all things are.
It has memory.
Hunger.
It feeds on pain and longing.
It remembers everyone who's ever walked its paths.
" He finally turned to face her".
"It remembered her voice because you miss her."
"But it sounded so real."
"Because part of you wanted it to be."
She bit her lip.
His explanation made sense… but it also raised more questions.
"Why won't you let anyone enter the Heartwood?"
she asked. "Why guard it like a throne?"
"Because it's not a gift," he replied.
"It's a curse in disguise."
Elira studied him.
"You've been to it."
A muscle in his jaw shifted, just slightly.
"I was made in it."
The words struck her like cold water.
Her breath caught.
"You were… human once, weren't you?"
The Beast didn't answer right away.
The wind stirred the pool between them.
Finally, he nodded—just once.
"I was a knight of the eastern realms.
I sought the Heartwood for power.
For glory.
I thought I could master it.
But magic is not meant to be conquered.
It changed me.
Twisted me.
And now… I guard what I once stole."
He met her gaze.
There was no rage there.
Only weariness.
And pain.
"You don't look like a monster," Elira said quietly.
"You haven't seen the worst of me," he replied.
"Not yet."
They stood in silence.
And somewhere deep in the trees, the forest laughed.