They hold recognition in their softness, the amber orbs radiating a glow that could only belong to a mystical being.
“I’m Anastasia,” she says gently as she reaches out an arm. “I was asked to check on the progress of the bond.”
“The what?” My voice comes out hoarse as I frown.
“The mate bond. I assume Alpha Damian told you about it.”
My eyes flicker to the cabin behind her, but the only sign of Damian in there is the kitchen light. Did he send this woman after me, or am I imagining her being here?
“Alpha?” I ask with a frown, and the woman, Anastasia, confirms this with a graceful nod.
“You might be human, Sophie, but you are no ordinary one. You are special,” the woman says as she nods to the ground at my feet, bringing my awareness to the fact that there are suddenly new blooms around them, as if commanded to grow by my hands lying loosely at my sides, fingers pointed obliviously to the ground.
“You saw what happened?” I ask, brows rising, teetering between fear and shame.
She doesn’t answer right away. Instead, she produces a small bowl of water from underneath her cloak and sets it on a flat stone between us. “I heard about what happened, and that’s why the council sent me here. Place your hand over the bowl,” she requests softly.
“I’m not doing your test,” I snap. “What council? Is this a government experiment?”
She only waits, patient, unthreatened. “Is that what you think this is?”
There’s a part of me that wants to call out for Damian, as if he can protect me, as if I can trust the things he’s been telling me, but there’s also a part of me that trusts this woman, because deep down, I know she isn’t a threat to me.
And something about the way she's watching me keenly already answers my question.
This isn't some experiment.
She's serious. So is Damian.
Against my better judgment, against every rational instinct I’ve ever trusted, I extend my hand toward the bowl. The water warms instantly, then begins to glow faintly in a light orange, a soft, pulsing light that mirrors the frantic beat of my heart.
Anastasia exhales slowly. “You’re not human, Sophie,” she says, not unkindly. “Not the way you think.”
The world tilts, and I stumble back, shaking my head violently. “You’re all insane.” Those words echo in my head like a driving force that continues to sound even as I bolt toward Damian's cabin—the only place I know in this strange place. That’s why I run inside, only to find him waiting for me in the kitchen.
I run again, violently racing to the bedroom, where I immediately throw myself into the bed and hide under the sheets.
Somehow, despite my heart hammering and my head all over the place, sleep finds me anyway. I know I'm asleep, I know I'm dreaming, aware of what I'm seeing, but not able to pull myself out of this illusion.
I dream of fire.
The dream takes me violently, without transition.
Thick, suffocating heat slams into me first, clawing its way down my throat until every breath burns. The air is choked with smoke, heavy and metallic, carrying the taste of ash and blood down my constricted throat. Flames roar all around me, devouring wooden structures that collapse with deafening cracks, sparks spiraling upward like dying stars. People are screaming, their raw, animalistic sounds torn from throats already ruined by fear, but I can’t see their faces clearly, only silhouettes fleeing through a firelit haze.
Wolves run alongside them.
Massive bodies streak through the chaos, fur singed, eyes glowing with a ferocity that feels protective rather than savage. Some fall mid-stride, struck by shadows that move with too much fluidity, too large, unraveling and reforming like living smoke. When those shadows strike, the air shrieks, a sound so sharp it pierces straight through my skull.
I want to run. I want to scream. But my feet won’t move.
The ground beneath me cracks, veins of molten fire splitting the earth as if something ancient is waking up beneath the village that burns ahead. My chest aches, tight and frantic, and I realize I’m crying even in the dream, tears evaporating before they can fall.
Then I see him.
A wolf larger, more majestic than all the others, stands at the center of the destruction, fire radiating from its fur instead of consuming it. Flames ripple across its body like living armor, bright enough to hurt my eyes. Where its paws strike the ground, the fire bends, obeys. It turns its head, and for a split second, its gaze meets mine.
It feels like recognition.
