That evening, the Woogs hosted a feast celebrating some special occasion; Jack wasn't sure of the specifics—he hadn’t been paying attention.

  His mind was elsewhere, buzzing with excitement over the discovery that he could wield magic. Kleo promised they'd discuss it later, but he couldn’t stop imagining himself conjuring lightning or charming fish with song.

  Kleo moved among the villagers, arranging tables, decorations, and refreshments. The spring in her step and her easy laughter made it clear she was in her element.

  Jack tried helping, but distraction made him distant and clumsy. At one point, he stared blankly as Rhonda, her bulbous green form jiggling disturbingly, carried wood past him.

  “You can stare all you want, big boy,” Rhonda teased. “But we both know you couldn’t handle me.”

  “I’m sure I’d literally die trying,” Jack shot back.

  Rhonda laughed, bending over too far, making Jack cringe and quickly turn away.

  Cedric saved him by calling him over. Jack gladly helped arrange tables, eager to escape Rhonda, but his mind stayed fixed on the magical conversation awaiting him.

  At dinner, as the Woog’s honored guests, Jack and Kleo sat at the center of a lavish spread of roast meats, fresh fish, hearty stews, and vibrant fruits. Kleo glowed in the torchlight, her laughter warm as she shared stories with the Woogs. Jack noticed her smiling at him with affection, deepening his gratitude for her presence. She had complexities he might never understand, yet he relished each moment spent unraveling them.

  As the meal wound down, Chief Harold unleashed a loud fart that reverberated through the feast. Jack froze mid-chew, exchanging wide-eyed amusement with Kleo, who stifled laughter. Unfazed, the other Woogs soon filled the air with their own absurd symphony.

  “Maybe someday,” Kleo whispered, “I’ll feel comfortable doing that in front of you.”

  “Won’t that be special,” Jack deadpanned, earning another laugh.

  When the laughter subsided, Kleo leaned close. “Ready for our talk?”

  Jack nodded, and together, they slipped away into the night.

  They lay beneath an endless canopy of stars, nestled on a soft blanket. The cool night breeze whispered across their skin, contrasting the warmth of their embrace. Gentle kisses and slow caresses ignited tiny sparks that chased away the chill.

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  Jack’s excitement simmered, shifting from curiosity toward passion. Smiling, Kleo placed a hand against his chest, easing him back. She propped herself on one elbow, studying his face in the faint starlight.

  Jack gazed up at her, his eyes filled with affection, trust, and curiosity. Kleo’s heart swelled as she traced lazy circles along his collarbone, then toyed with his short curls.

  “Earlier, when I touched your magic, I felt something unexpected,” Kleo murmured. “It felt like…a blend. A mingling of your world, my world, and something ancient—primordial. I’ve felt that old magic before, inside me.”

  “You think it’s connected to our bond?”

  “Yes. When you conjured that orb, my magic felt sharper—as though your mana resonated with mine, amplifying it. If your magic had been stronger…” Her voice trailed off into uncertainty.

  Jack’s brow furrowed. “What?”

  Kleo hesitated, biting her lip. “I can't be sure,” she admitted. “But the energy was powerful, Jack. If I'd focused my mana…it might’ve leveled the entire village.”

  Jack’s breath caught, playful warmth fading from his expression. “Woogs and all?”

  “Woogs and all.”

  A quiet heaviness settled between them.

  “What about you? Would it have hurt you?” Jack asked, afraid of the answer.

  “No. I was the source. But it affected you—and that scares me.”

  Jack reached for Kleo’s hand, intertwining their fingers. “Then we have to be careful until we understand it.”

  “Exactly. Will you take it slow and work with me?”

  “Of course,” Jack replied without hesitation. “Whatever keeps you safe, I'll do it. Magic or no magic.”

  Together, they lay back on the blanket, serenaded by the joyful singing of the Woogs drifting through the night. They would spend another full day in the Woog village, joining the entire Woog village for a night walk along the river. The morning after, they would be back on the road to Ilimar, heading towards whatever destiny awaited them.

  But tomorrow was not a worry for tonight. The night was young, their bodies tangled, anticipation building for the moments about to come.

  The dark wolf crept toward the edge of the celebration, his massive form melting into the shadows. Firelight danced along his sleek, black fur and his glowing purple eyes fixed on the woman. Her presence radiated power, unformed yet formidable enough to break his curse.

  The man beside her was weaker yet intriguing. His aura flickered uncertainly, innately tied to hers in a way the wolf had never seen. Together, their connection was potent—capable of destroying the Dark Witch and freeing him from his twisted form.

  But first, he needed them to lure them. For them to follow.

  The witch's twisted heart hungered endlessly for love and companionship. She would seize upon the man’s innocence, blind to the woman's strength. She would underestimate the true danger. And in that moment, the woman could strike.

  The wolf’s lips curled grimly, fangs glinting. His plan was simple: threaten the Woogs, forcing the woman’s hand. If she were who he believed, she'd pursue him without hesitation.

  When she did, he would lead them deep into the forest to the witch’s lair. The witch would obsess over the man, blind to her own vulnerability.

  It was a dangerous gambit. All would perish if the woman’s strength faltered or the man succumbed. Yet it was his only hope—the only chance at reclaiming what he'd lost.

  Casting one final glance at the woman, the wolf turned and slipped silently toward the river, shadows swallowing him.

  Tomorrow night, his plan would begin.

  Until then, he would watch from the darkness. And he would hope.