Bloodhoundhearts

The forest was dark and full of teeth.

​Betty ran through the thick trees, her breath coming in short, painful gasps. Behind her, the sounds of the chase grew louder. The Orcs were close. These were not just monsters: they were shapeshifters. One moment they looked like tall, scary men, and the next, their skin rippled into gray scales and sharp claws. They moved through the rain without making a sound, their yellow eyes glowing in the mist.

​Betty felt a sharp pain in her side. A jagged blade had cut her deep. Her blood was not red like a human's. It was a bright, shimmering gold that dripped onto the wet leaves.

​She used the last of her magic to teleport. The air smelled like burnt flowers for a second as she vanished and reappeared near a small clearing. Her legs felt like lead. She was exhausted and dying.

​Through the heavy rain, she saw an old wooden house. It stood at the edge of the forest, looking gray and broken. To Betty, it looked abandoned. It was the perfect place to hide.

​She dragged herself to the back door. She didn't have the strength to knock, so she leaned her shoulder against the wood. The rusty lock snapped, and the door swung open.

​Inside, the kitchen was warm and bright. The air smelled of rosemary and boiling potatoes.

​"Beatrice, you're putting the salt in too early," a soft voice said.

​Elena stood by a large iron pot on the stove. She was nineteen years old, with dark curls and a quiet beauty that didn't belong in such a poor, old house. Beside her was her older sister, Beatrice. At twenty-two, Beatrice was stronger and faster, her hands busy kneading dough for their dinner.

​Upstairs, the heavy thuds of their brothers, Mark and Mason, echoed through the ceiling. Their parents, Raymond and Amanda, were resting in the next room. It was a normal, quiet night for the family of eight.

​Then, the back door hit the wall with a bang.

​Betty stumbled into the light. Her clothes were torn, and the golden wound in her side glowed brightly in the dim room. She looked like a fallen star covered in mud.

​The wooden spoon fell from Elena’s hand and hit the floor.

​"Oh, gods," Beatrice whispered. She grew pale and reached for a sharp bread knife on the table. She was ready to fight.

​But Elena didn't reach for a weapon. She ran toward the bleeding woman. As Elena’s hands touched Betty’s cold skin, the air in the kitchen turned freezing.

​A sharp pain started behind Elena’s eyes. It was a heavy throb, like a heartbeat.

​"Don't... let them... in," Betty choked out. She grabbed Elena’s wrist with trembling fingers.

​The moment they touched, Elena’s world changed.

​Her vision exploded into a bright, glowing pink. The wooden walls of the house seemed to disappear. She could see through them. She saw the Fae woman’s broken soul, but she also