In the eucalyptus-wrapped hills of the Blue Mountains, there lived a creature most dismissed as folklore, a tale told to scare kids away from wandering off at night. But the…
The forest god didn’t move like a thing made of flesh. It moved like ritual. Its limbs bent in unnatural ways, stretching and twisting with purpose. Every motion echoed like…
The fog pressed in like a living thing, thick as wool and humming low in her ears. Lark didn’t remember stepping off the porch, but she found herself standing on…
Chapter Two: Lark didn’t scream. She wanted to. Every inch of her body was urging her to open her mouth and let loose something primal and piercing. But something about…
Chapter One: When Lark first saw the house, she was sure it was holding its breath. It sat crouched at the edge of the woods like a predator, old timbers…