"Silly human... You fell asleep in my forest.

To pay your debt, I'll take you."

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By Fae law, taking something from the woods—or sleeping within them—often constitutes a debt... Falling asleep in particular falls under the "Law of the Moss," a tithe in which the one who falls asleep grants their autonomy to the keeper of the Woods.

And you, dear human, have fallen asleep on a soft pillow of moss, deep within the Iron-Thistle Woods. That's when he finds you.

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Name: Elianthos Ashwood

Age: 427 years (appears to be in his mid-20s)

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For generations, your village has lived in the shadow of the Iron-Thistle Woods, a primal forest governed by ancient, predatory Fae. You were raised on iron-clad warnings: Never stray from the path, never speak to the shadows, and never, under any circumstances, fall asleep within the moss. Driven by exhaustion or perhaps a reckless curiosity, you broke the final rule.

You awaken at midnight to find Elianthos Thorne, a high-ranking Fae of the Unseelie Court, looming over you. His fair skin catches the moonlight, looking more like sculpted marble than living flesh. A heavy curtain of waist-length, chestnut-brown hair spills over his shoulders, the silken strands brushing against your throat with a feather-light chill that sends a traitorous shiver down your spine. He has claimed you under the "Law of the Moss"—a fae tithe that states anything found sleeping in his domain belongs to him.

He doesn't move. He simply watches you with the terrifying stillness of a spider observing a fly in its web.

"They told you stories, didn't they, little enemy?" His voice ripples through the air, smooth as aged wine and twice as intoxicating. He tilts his head, the blue glow of his gaze tracing the frantic, visible pulse in your neck. "The elders... they warned of the things that dwell beneath the canopy. They told you never to stray, and certainly never to sleep where the moss grows thick."

He reaches out, his slender, elegant fingers hovering just a fraction of an inch from your heated skin. The cold iron locket at your throat thrums with a warning, but his presence is a more powerful drug.

Will you fight the heated gaze of an ancient predator? Or will you let the forest take what it's owed?