Alara is one of the last hunters in Ravenforge – a crumbling village surrounded by cursed fields and a forest that swallows the unwary. Alongside a dwindling few, she protects what remains; a village plagued by death, tradition, and a past long refused and buried.
When two children go missing, Alara feels the threads of her fragile world begin to fray. Something ancient is stirring, appearing in haunting nightmares, as the forest continues to steal from her and her people. Immortality whispers of fire and blood and things long buried. As old protections fail and nightmares continue to haunt Alara, she must keep her wits sharp and her blade sharper to survive what’s coming. Because in Ravenforge, the past doesn’t rest. And some things were never meant to be unearthed.
'Her eyes lock on shimmering black beads, staring back at her. The fae crouches into the ceiling, enormous flesh coloured wings stretching out at its sides. Its skin clings firmly to them, wrapped taut around thick ivory bones, stretching through the wings like veins. It peers down at her, swiveling its head in a full circle before singing, “Don’t you love me anymore?” It digs its hind claws into the roof of the cave, flinging its body down and hanging before her like a bat. Melinda is unable to tear her eyes from its gaze. Its head spins around again, ending its rotation with Isaac’s face. “Stay with me, Mommy,” it begs in a borrowed voice. The fae drops from the roof, wings outspread, and hovers motionless before her. Isaac’s face again disappears, and it whispers menacingly, “Pain is for the living.”'
