It’s infuriating. It makes me feel as if I’m the only one making a fool of myself. As if I’m the only one affected by this bond, hiding in my room like a coward while he goes about his life perfectly fine.
The dreams continue. Pieces of a past I don’t understand, moments that feel like memories even though they can’t be mine.
By the fourteenth night, I can’t take it anymore.
I need to get out of here. I need air. I need something other than these four walls and the constant pull of the bond trying to drag me toward him.
I slip out of my room after dark, moving quietly through the corridors. I don’t go toward the forest; I know better than that. I could get attacked out there, especially alone. Instead, I head to the palace grounds, to the open spaces where the moonlight falls, soft and silver, on the grass.
The cool night air hits my face, and I breathe it in, letting it calm the restless energy thrumming under my skin. I’m wearing a faded shirt and loose pants, nothing fancy. I sit on the grass, tipping my head back to look at the stars.
That’s when I hear it: a soft howl, gentle and beckoning.
My wolf perks up immediately. I turn my head and catch movement at the edge of the grounds. It’s the female alpha of the wild pack, watching me with those intelligent eyes. The scar across her face is a pale line in the moonlight.
Something in my chest loosens, and I smile. This wolf has been my guardian since I arrived here, always nearby, always protecting.
I stand up and walk toward her. “Hey, girl.”
She doesn’t come to me like she usually does. Instead, she turns and begins heading toward the trees.
I hesitate. I know I shouldn’t follow. Not into the forest. Not at night. But she looks back at me, waiting, and my wolf pushes forward eagerly. We trust her. She has never led us wrong.
I take a deep breath and follow her.
The trees close around us quickly, swallowing the moonlight. My wolf’s vision sharpens everything to silver and shadow as I track her pale form through the darkness. The palace grounds fade behind me. We’re plunging deeper into the forest than I’ve ever been before.
“Where are we going?” I ask, but she doesn’t answer. Of course she doesn’t.
She just keeps walking, steadily and purposefully.
Twenty minutes pass. Maybe more. The woods grow denser, darker. Part of me knows I should turn back, but I can’t shake the feeling that she needs me to follow. That something is wrong.
Finally, she stops.
She turns to face me, and my blood goes cold.
Something is off. Her movements are too stiff, too mechanical. Her eyes—those eyes that always held such warmth, such intelligence—are dull now. Empty. It’s like looking into the eyes of a corpse.
My wolf recoils inside me. I take a step back, my heart suddenly pounding.
“Girl?” I ask uncertainly. “What’s wrong?”
Then, I see the other wolves.
They’re scattered around the clearing, maybe eight or nine of them. Pack members I recognize. But they’re not standingproud and alert like wild wolves should be. They’re lying down, subdued, pressed against the earth. One whimpers as I look at it. Another’s ears are flat against its head, its whole body trembling.
Terror grips my throat.
“No,” I whisper. “No, no, no.”
The female alpha—not her anymore, just her body—advances toward me. Her lips peel back from her teeth in a snarl that’s all wrong. There’s no emotion behind it. No real aggression. Just empty, mechanical violence.
“Stop!” I command, putting all my authority into the word. “Stop right now!”
She doesn’t stop. She doesn’t even hesitate.
She leaps.
