As Eve and Winter traversed the glowing stones, the legend her mother had woven into bedtime tales unfurled in her mind like a tapestry of warning. Stories of a hidden kingdom where fairies dwelled, whispered fears of children snatched in the night, their laughter silenced by enchantment, echoed through her memories. The eerie symphony of the forest, once a backdrop to her grandmother's tales of the people of the hills, now bore the weight of reality.

Peering through the veil of memory, Eve's eyes, wide with wonder, mirrored the apprehension that now coursed through her veins. She clung to Winter's hand, a lifeline tethering her to the realm of the living, as they ventured deeper into the heart of the wood. The distant sound of a horn pierced the silence, its clarion call a harbinger of unseen presence, of gathering shadows that lurked beyond sight.

"Is that where we are headed?" Eve's voice trembled, her gaze fixed upon a distant light that beckoned from the depths of the forest.

"Yes, we are almost there," Winter replied, his tone laden with unspoken secrets.

A chorus of answering calls echoed through the trees, a cacophony of voices that spoke of gathering storm. Eve's pulse quickened, her grip on Winter's hand tightening as she faced the unknown that loomed ahead.

Eve paused making him halt. He turned and looked back at her with a quizzical expression.

"After I meet your people, may I leave? Will you bring me back?" Her words, tinged with desperation, hung heavy in the air.

"You won't want to," Winter's smile, though reassuring, held a weight of its own, a silent admonition that stirred the depths of Eve's unease.

A sudden flash of lightning illuminated the forest, casting long shadows that danced upon the forest floor. From the darkness emerged a figure cloaked in shadow, its form obscured by the night. Eve's heart quickened, her breath catching in her throat, as the hooded figure drew near, its glowing eyes a testament to the otherworldly power that dwelled within.

With a silent nod, the figure led them onward, the forest parting before them as if by some unseen hand. As they reached the clearing, Eve's gaze fell upon the altar stone, cold and unforgiving in the moonlight. Around it stood figures cloaked in mystery, their faces hidden behind masks of metal, their presence ominous and foreboding.

The air hummed with anticipation as the gathered throng turned their attention to Eve, their cheers ringing hollow in the stillness of the night. The spectacle unfolded before her, a dance of shadows and firelight, a symphony of fear and longing.

Beside her, Winter stood silent, his gaze fixed upon the ground, his silence a testament to the gravity of their plight. As the ladies encircled her, stripping away the trappings of her humanity, Eve's heart pounded in her chest, her breaths shallow and ragged.

Wrapped in a cloak of moonlight and crowned with thorns, Eve stood as a queen in the eyes of her captors, yet in her heart, she trembled at the specter of her own mortality. The time had come, the die cast in shadows and whispers, as Winter's betrayal hung heavy in the air.

Alone amidst the gathering storm, Eve braced herself for the darkness that awaited, her spirit unyielding in the face of impending sacrifice, her resolve a beacon of defiance in the shadow of the altar stone.

(Edited 1/28/24)