Isabella Rosewood had promised her life to a man she had never seen. She stood on the porch of the rose-covered cottage mansion, gripping two rings. One held a green stone ringed in gold, her family's heirloom. The other carried a purple and a white gem, paired for a shared vow. She had sworn to become Mrvang's wife and his protector. But a promise means nothing if you cannot find the man you made it to. She had waited three years. Letters came back unopened. No one would say where Mrvang lived. The heirloom ring was her last hope. Her grandmother had told her its green stone answered only one call. Press it to living wood, and the right person would feel the pull. Isabella walked into the garden behind the mansion. There stood the ancient bonsai, its trunk thick as a barrel, its canopy spread like a roof. She knelt and pressed the green stone against the gnarled bark. The stone grew warm. Light ran down the roots and into the soil. Isabella held her breath. For a long moment, nothing moved. Then a wolf pup stepped from under the lowest branch. Gray fur, blue eyes, too small to be alone. It carried something in its mouth and dropped it at her feet. A folded scrap of cloth. She opened it. Inside, a single word was stitched in dark thread: "Mrvang." "Where is he?" she whispered. The pup turned and trotted toward the far hedge, then looked back, waiting. Isabella's heart pounded. The ring had worked. Not by summoning Mrvang to her, but by sending her to him. She slid both rings onto a cord around her neck. She scooped up the pup and held it against her chest. The pup squirmed free and ran. She followed it past the roses, past the garden wall, down a dirt path she had never walked. The pup stopped at a low stone marker half-buried in weeds. It scratched at the dirt and whined. Isabella dug with her hands. Beneath the loose earth lay a wooden box. She lifted the lid. Inside sat a letter, the ink fresh, the paper dry. Her name was written on the front in a strong hand. She read it standing in the dirt. "Isabella. You found the path. I could not come to you. I am held where I cannot leave. Follow the pup. He knows the way to me. Bring both rings. Bring your courage. You will need it." The letter was signed Mrvang. She had her answer at last. He was real. He wanted her. But he was not free, and he was not near. The man she had sworn to protect needed protecting now. Isabella folded the letter and stood. The pup waited at the edge of the path, ears up, ready to run. She took one step after it, then another. "Take me to him," she said.