The heavy footfalls of one of those monstrous creatures thunder behind me, its growls intensifying into a bone-chilling crescendo that pushes my fear to new heights.  

My lungs scream for air, my legs burn with the exertion of my frantic sprint, but the promise of a sanctuary spurs me on. I can’t be the only one to make it. 

The sacred grounds, a place of ancient protection, will protect any who are within its waters. 

I remember my mother’s voice, low and steady, as she brushed my hair beneath the twilight sky. If you are ever in true danger, Sinsoel, she said, find your way back to the waterfall. The silent waters will protect you when nothing else can. 

Branches lash against my face, leaving stinging welts, as the underbrush claws at my ankles, trying to hold me back.  

I twist mid-step, the creature’s claw slicing through the air where I’d just been. Ducking beneath a low-hanging branch, I veer sharply, changing course toward Silvarin Falls. 

The forest, usually a familiar haven that I could navigate with my eyes closed, now feels like a labyrinth designed to ensnare me.  

The beast’s snarls are a terrifying sound at my back, its hot breath a sinister whisper against my neck, urging me to surrender.  

Not here.  

Not now. 

Then the trees fall away, and I find myself at the edge of the sacred clearing, the waterfall cascading into a pond so still it looks like glass. 

The sight of the serene water, cascading silently over mossy rocks, offers a stark contrast to the chaos I’m running from. 

The last time I stood at the edge of the pond, I was eight. My father held my hand and told me this was the one place the gods still listened. My mother knelt beside me and whispered that water remembers what blood forgets. I never understood what that meant. 

As I stumble through the clearing, relief washes over me at the sight of familiar faces: my parents, the pack Beta who is Landon’s dad, Landon himself, and several warriors whom I do not know personally but are all in their more formidable wolf forms, their eyes alight with battle-ready fury. 

“Sin!” My mom yells out, her arms outstretched for me to run into. My dad’s arm around her tightens as he catches sight of me and what I am running from. 

“Sin, get behind the line!” my dad commands, his voice slicing through the roar of the creatures, strained and fearful yet forceful. “Keep them at bay!” He commands the wolves. 

Gasping for breath, I skid to a halt on the damp earth, falling into my mom's arms, the sound of fighting as the warriors charge the creatures who chased me here.  

Dad turns, wrapping us both in his arms. “We thought we’d have more time,” he says, the truth breaking across his face like dawn. “Your arrival… it’s always been about this moment.” 

I blink, confusion and panic churning. “What do you mean, this moment?” 

He hesitates, his jaw tightening. “The moon marked you. The silent waterfall has been waiting for you. We were told never to tell you… never to interfere.” 

“Told by who?” 

“The Seers. The old ones. They said you’d find your way when the veil tore and the river rose.” 

My blood runs cold. “You knew this would happen.” 

He presses something smooth and warm into my palm, his voice barely rising above the wind. “Survive, Sinsoel. Then decide what comes next.” He places a kiss on my forehead and rises to his feet. 

With a powerful howl, he shifts, and the others follow suit, fur rippling and bones snapping as their forms change in unison. 

The creatures are closing in, their snarls growing louder with each heartbeat, reverberating through the trees like an oncoming storm. 

They meet them head-on, engaging with feral intensity.  

The clearing erupts into chaos, the night filled with the sounds of battle: growls, snarls, the metallic clash of weapons against flesh, and the shouts of warriors giving everything they have. 

My mom’s firm yet gentle grip pulls me towards the safety of the water’s edge, her touch a grounding force amid the maelstrom of chaos and death. 

“Mom, where’s the others? Where’s Bonnie and Angie and John and–” 

“Get in, now!” she orders, her dark eyes wide with urgency and heartache. “Let me save you. Please, Sin. Let me at least save you.” The tears stream down her dirt caked face, the loss glaringly obvious. “You’re all that matters now.” She brushed the tears from my face, kissing each cheek. “She chose you, Sinsoel. The Moon Goddess saw your soul. That’s why you never shifted. You’re not broken. You were just… waiting. You don’t need to wait anymore.” 

I hesitate for a fraction of a second, my gaze darting to the battle unfolding before me.  

“Get in the water!” Landon’s voice cut through and my head whipped up to catch him lunging at another creature. Landon tears into the fray with raw power, his movements sharp and unrefined. A new sense of protectiveness rises in him; one I’ve never seen before. 

The creatures are relentless, their grotesque forms moving with a terrifying speed and brutality.  

Landon, dad, and the others fight valiantly, their growls and howls echoing through the clearing, but the creatures’ numbers are overwhelming.  

My father, ever the tactician, moves with precision, eyes darting for openings. But even strategy isn’t enough. 

“Sin, now!” My dad’s voice is desperate, pulling me back to the moment; he’s holding off a creature, sparing me a glance could cost him.  

I nod, the fear in his eyes spurring me into action. I wade into the pond, the cold-water lapping at my legs.  

“Mom, where are the others? Where’s Bonnie, Angie, John, and E—” 

“Get in, now!” she commands, her voice laced with urgency and a heartache that trembles through each syllable. Her eyes, wide and haunted, implore me as tears streak down her dirt-smudged face, the pain of our losses etched deeply within them. “They’re after you! Oh my... I prayed this day didn't come!” 

Her words crash into me like a freight train, forcefully expelling the air from my lungs as if I’ve been sucker punched. My chest tightens, and tears quickly blur my vision, making the world around me swim in a haze of pain and disbelief.  

They are after me. 

“Get in the water!” Dad’s voice commands, his voice breaking and his eyes red-rimmed with unshed tears. 

I pause, just for a heartbeat, torn as my eyes sweep over the fighting before us. More and more are joining the fray, our numbers dwindling as theirs increase.  

I’m mesmerized by the fighting, the agile way we, as wolves, fight against any foe.  

Landon is holding his own next to his father, the appeal of his form is strikingly obvious in this moment. 

“Sin, now!” Dad’s voice cuts through the fighting, a desperate plea that jolts me from my hesitation.  

The raw fear in his tone is a jarring spur, pushing me towards survival. With a nod, I turn and step into the pond.  

Mom doesn’t follow. Her hands slip from my arms, her fingers dragging across my skin as if letting go is the last thing she wants. 

I turn at the sudden loss of her touch. “Mom?” I call out, but the word barely leaves my lips. The stillness swallows the sound before it ever fully forms. 

The water is shockingly cold against my skin for mid-summer, the chill of the pond seeping into my bones but unable to cool the burning fear I feel. 

Suddenly, the tranquil waters around me begin to ripple unexpectedly, a phenomenon that has been unprecedented in our pack’s history.  

Then something starts: a sound.  

Not chanting. Not at first.  

It’s singing, low and ancient, rising from somewhere I can’t place. It seems to echo from the water, the air, maybe even from inside me. My name is woven into it, layered with others I don’t recognize, each syllable heavy with age and meaning. 

The sound weaves into my bones, threads through my bloodstream like memory. 

I can’t breathe. Or maybe I’m breathing for the first time. 

A rush of images assaults my mind, flashes of a time not my own: a pale woman cloaked in silver light, seven wolves kneeling before her, blood running through a stone bowl, stars falling into water. 

My name is there, etched in moonlight beside a dozen others. One glows brighter than the rest. Not a name I recognize. But one that feels like mine. 

The water begins to rise, not from rain or the waterfall itself; from me. 

As I wade deeper, the once muted roar of the waterfall amplifies, swelling into a thunderous cascade that fills the air with its powerful echo like thunder in a storm. 

My gaze is abruptly drawn upwards by a sharp, pained yelp from my dad, slicing through the thunderous water. 

 The new moon casts its shadows, which seem to solidify above the pond, reflecting off of the now rippling surface. 

Landon's eyes find mine, and for one breath, the fight leaves his face. There's something in his gaze: recognition, almost sadness. As if he knew all along this wasn’t a victory to win, but a fate to carry. 

A soft glow emerges a mere hint of light, then quickly intensifies, bathing the entire pond in a radiant, blinding brilliance.  

I raise my hands to shield my eyes from the glare, my senses overwhelmed by the sudden burst of radiant light. 

Yet, through the dazzling light, I catch glimpses of the horrifying scene on the shore.  

The creatures, relentless in their fury, tear through the last of my defenders.  

My mother looks back as claws rake across her shoulder, her mouth forming words I can’t hear.  

My father’s eyes never leave mine, even as he falls beneath the weight of three snarling monsters.  

I scream, but the light swallows the sound. 

My parents and all that were on the shore fighting fall one by one under the savage onslaught of claws and teeth.  

A seared vision that now joins the haunting image of Bryson’s lifeless eyes, forever etched into my memory. 

The light becomes unbearably intense, forcing me to close my eyes as hot tears stream down my cheeks.  

The sounds of battle gradually recede, drowned out by the overwhelming rush of the waterfall.  

The last image burned behind my eyelids is a creature closing in on Landon, its claws raised and eyes glowing.  

His gaze finds mine in that final moment, filled with something close to relief. It sears into me, another haunting memory to join the look in Bryson’s eyes as he fell. 

Then all is engulfed in white.