My wolf rises to the surface, ready and eager to attack.Let me get us there faster.
His voice is gravel and violent, ragged with loss, but resolute. He’s felt our grief as much as I have, and I don’t hesitate to give him control.
I close my eyes, letting the shift move through me.
Pinpricks of magic lance down my spine, sharp and swift, before giving way to fire that pours through my limbs. Yet, this burn isn’t pain. It’s freedom.
My skin stretches, snaps, and reforms. Bones break and transform in rapid succession. It’s not a graceful thing, not like the old shifter tales would have you believe. It’s brutal, raw, and necessary.
Clothes shred from my frame, but the witch’s rune glows bright on my chest—silver light flaring as it shields my shift, protecting what little modesty I care to maintain.
My muscles expand, limbs contorting. My hands become paws. Dark russet fur explodes across my back, and my jaw elongates, teeth sharper than any blade.
My vision narrows then brightens as my enhanced senses take over. Vivid scents and sounds become clearer, but there’s very little out here that interests me or my wolf outside of what’s north of us.
Power. Fear. Death.
All of it calls me forward.
I dig my claws into the earth for half a heartbeat, and then I run. The wind tears past me, cold and biting, ruffling my thick coat as the trees blur into shadows. My paws thunder against the forest floor, crushing fallen leaves and broken twigs. I don’t slow or hesitate as the silhouette of NightShade Manor begins to rise through the trees.
A so-called sanctuary for the supernatural, run by humans who think their inability to be killed by us makes them our equals. Just because they can’t die by our hands doesn’t mean they understand the weight of our survival. All I’ve known the Hollowborn to do is cause problems, and I wouldn’t be headed in this direction if I had any other choice.
There’s always a choice, my wolf reminds me as he closes in on NightShade.We don’t need the answers you seek, but you’ve decided not to live without them.
I rumble at his reply. He’s right, of course. It’s been over a decade since my mother was killed. Murdered in the middle of the day, on pack lands. And yet, there’s been nothing done about it. For a few years, I thoughtmy father was trying to avenge her, that his obsession with immortality was rooted in grief.
But it wasn’t. It was hunger. He didn’t want justice—he wanted to conquer death, unlike her.
Her murder unhinged something in him, tore loose the last thread of his sanity. And when he died chasing that impossible prophecy, I thought the madness would end with him.
It didn’t.
I tried to walk away from it all. From my legacy. My pack. My fate.
But vengeance manages to cling tighter than blood. Without it, I have nothing. No home. No family. Just scars and questions that never seem to fade.
Again, that’s achoiceyou made,my wolf reminds me as he so often enjoys doing.
What other option did we have?I snap back.We have no one to trust anymore.
An alpha only needs to trust himself.
I ignore his words. I haven’t been an alpha in years.
NightShade looms ahead with its towers that reach for the night sky. Light glimmers through an upstairs balcony, and that’s where the pull is strongest. My chest tightens, and I pull my wolf’s power back so I can take over.
Once again, bones break, and muscles tear as my body reforms. The world tilts and realigns in the split seconds it takes to go from beast to man. My spine straightens, and my ribs shift into place with an audible pop.
Heat flares across my chest, searing andfamiliar—the witch’s mark doing its job. The rune pulses once before fizzling out, and with it, my clothes knit themselves back into place, as if the initial shift hadn’t destroyed the jeans and t-shirt.
My gaze snaps to the glowing door once more. That damn pull tugs at my chest again, harder now, like it knows I’m close. A growl tears from my throat as I crouch low and leap.
Fifteen feet in the air, my fingers catch on an old stone ledge. I climb a few more feet before launching myself upward again until I’m directly beneath a window in the room I know the hybrid is behind.
There’s no time to think. No need for hesitation.
With a loud snarl, I throw myself through the glass.
