The cottage stood like a relic of a bygone age, its crooked frame leaning slightly to one side. Smoke curled from the chimney, and faint firelight glowed in the window. The girl—Mary, she called herself—skipped ahead, her red hood bouncing with every step. Svetlana followed silently, her sharp senses attuned to the subtle signs of a trap.

Mary pushed the door open and turned back with a mischievous grin. “Come in, come in. Grandmother’s been waiting.”

Svetlana stepped inside, her gaze immediately sweeping the room. The fire roared in the hearth, casting flickering shadows on the walls. A table near the fire was cluttered with jars and vials, while the scent of herbs and something darker lingered in the air.

Seated in a high-backed chair was an older woman wrapped in layers of thick shawls. Her hood obscured her face, but Svetlana could feel her sharp gaze beneath the shadows.

“Welcome, traveler,” the woman rasped, her voice low and smooth. “You look weary. Come closer, sit by the fire.”

Svetlana’s lips twitched into a faint smile as she stepped closer. “You must be Mary’s grandmother,” she said. “She spoke highly of you.”

The old woman chuckled, the sound dry and hollow. “Did she? She is a sweet child.” Her hands, bony and claw-like, shifted slightly in her lap.

Svetlana’s eyes lingered on those hands before she said, “Your hands… they seem strong for someone your age.”

“All the better to hold you with, my dear,” Granny Night replied with a grin.

“And your teeth,” Svetlana continued, her tone light but with a hint of steel beneath it. “They’re... unusual.”

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Granny Night’s grin widened. “All the better to eat you with.”

Granny Night surged to her feet, her shawls falling away to reveal a lean, wiry frame. Her hands moved in a blur, summoning tendrils of shadow from the corners of the room. They lashed out toward Svetlana, seeking to bind her in place.

Mary cackled, her knife flashing as she darted toward Svetlana’s side. But Svetlana moved faster. She sidestepped the tendrils and Mary’s slash, her hand snapping out to grab the goblin’s wrist. With a flick, she sent Mary crashing into the table, jars and vials shattering around her.

Granny Night snarled, her hands weaving more shadows into jagged spears. “You should’ve stayed on the path,” she hissed, her voice now a guttural growl. “You have no idea what you’ve walked into.”

“I have some idea,” Svetlana replied, her voice calm. She stepped forward, the mist outside creeping in through the cracks in the walls. “But do you?”

Granny Night flung the shadow spears toward Svetlana, but they dissolved into harmless wisps before reaching her. Svetlana raised her hand, the mist coiling around her fingers like a living thing. Granny Night’s eyes widened as the realization dawned.

“You’re no ordinary traveler,” she spat.

Svetlana smiled faintly. “And you’re no ordinary grandmother.”

Granny Night lunged forward, her claws raking the air. Svetlana didn’t move to dodge—instead, she raised her other hand, her skin shimmering briefly before solidifying into moissanite. Granny Night’s claws scraped uselessly against the unyielding surface.

“You fight well for a human,” Svetlana said, her tone almost mocking. “But it won’t save you.”

The air grew colder as Svetlana’s true power surged. The mist thickened, obscuring her form. When she reemerged, her features had shifted—her eyes glowed, and her teeth lengthened into sharp fangs. Granny Night stumbled back, her bravado faltering.

“What… what are you?” she whispered.

Svetlana smiled, revealing those fangs. “I am Volk.”

Before Granny Night could react, Volk lunged forward, her claws sinking deep into the woman’s shoulder. Granny Night screamed as the curse took hold, her veins burning with fiendish power. The shadows around her writhed, and her human form began to twist and contort into something monstrous.

Mary groaned, pulling herself from the wreckage of the table. She froze as she saw the transformation taking place. Volk turned her glowing gaze to the goblin. “Run,” she commanded.

Mary didn’t hesitate. She bolted from the cabin, disappearing into the night.

When the transformation was complete, Granny Night rose on shaky legs. Her black fur bristled, and her claws gleamed in the firelight. She turned her glowing eyes to Volk, who stood watching with a satisfied smirk.

“You’re stronger now,” Volk said. “Use that strength wisely. These woods are mine.”

With that, Volk disappeared into the shadows, leaving Granny Night to grapple with her new, monstrous form.