The forest did not feel like home anymore.

It breathed differently—too shallow, too alert—as if every tree and root had turned its attention inward, listening. Even the wind had stilled, leaving the air thick and heavy against my skin. Somewhere beyond the treeline, something moved with intent, and my body reacted before my mind could catch up.

Fear slid beneath my ribs, sharp and cold.

Kael stood in front of me like a living barrier, broad shoulders squared, his stance unmistakably Alpha. I had never seen him like this up close—not in ceremony, not in command—but in readiness. As if violence were not just an option but an inevitability he had already accepted.

“Do not move,” he said, his voice low enough that only I could hear it. There was no room for argument in it, no room for fear either. Just certainty.

I swallowed hard and nodded, though my instincts screamed at me to run.

The howl came again—closer now. It was wrong in a way that set my teeth on edge, distorted as though the throat it came from no longer remembered how to shape the sound properly. Another answered it, then another, forming a chorus that reverberated through the trees.

Kael’s hands flexed at his sides. The shadows around him seemed to deepen, clinging to his form as though drawn by gravity rather than light. I noticed then how the darkness pooled unnaturally at his feet, how it moved when he did, lagging behind like a second skin.

“Stay behind me,” he repeated.

I wanted to argue. To demand answers. To ask him what he meant when he said I wasn’t an omega, when he warned me they would catch my scent. But the air shifted suddenly, carrying something sharp and acrid that made my nose burn.

Blood.

Not fresh. Old. Stale with rot.

My stomach twisted.

“They’re not pack wolves,” I whispered without thinking.

Kael stiffened. Slowly, he turned his head just enough to look at me over his shoulder. His silver eyes flickered—not with surprise, but with confirmation.

“You smell them,” he said.

It wasn’t a question.

“I—yes,” I admitted, my pulse roaring in my ears. “It’s wrong. Like something spoiled.”

A muscle jumped in his jaw. “That shouldn’t be possible.”

Before I could ask what he meant, the forest erupted.

A shape burst from the undergrowth to our left, moving too fast, too erratically. Kael reacted instantly, shifting in a blur of motion that left the air ringing. There was the sickening crunch of bone, a snarl that curdled into a gurgle, and then the body hit the ground with a wet thud.

I screamed.

The creature—wolf, once—twitched violently before going still. Its fur was patchy, its eyes clouded and wrong, glowing faintly red even in death. Dark veins spidered beneath its skin, pulsing sluggishly as if whatever animated it hadn’t quite realized the body was no longer useful.

“What is that?” I breathed.

“An echo,” Kael said grimly. “A corpse being told to run.”

More movement rustled around us. At least three—no, five—presences circled closer, their steps uneven, scraping. I backed up instinctively, only to feel the solid wall of Kael’s chest behind me.

His hand came up, gripping my shoulder firmly—not possessive, not gentle, but anchoring. Real.

“Listen to me,” he said quietly, his mouth close to my ear. The warmth of his breath sent a shiver down my spine that had nothing to do with fear. “When I tell you to run, you run. Do not look back. Do not hesitate.”

“And you?” I asked, my voice trembling despite my effort to steady it.

“I’ll be right behind you.”

I didn’t believe him.

Another creature lunged, this one from the right. Kael met it head-on, his snarl tearing from his chest as the shadows around him surged forward, coiling like living things. They wrapped around the attacker mid-air, crushing it with a force that made my stomach lurch.

I had heard stories of Alphas losing control, of wolves giving in to the beast completely.

This was something else.

This was power that had been leashed too tightly for too long—and was now grateful for the excuse to be unleashed.

A third echo broke through the trees, followed by a fourth. Kael moved with brutal efficiency, each strike precise, devastating. But for every one that fell, another took its place, and I could see the strain creeping into his movements, the way his shoulders tightened, his breathing growing heavier.

“They’re testing the boundary,” he growled. “Drawing me out.”

A sudden wave of heat flared in my chest, sharp and intense enough to steal my breath. I gasped, clutching at my cloak as dizziness washed over me, my vision blurring at the edges.

“Elara,” Kael snapped, turning back to me. “What’s happening?”

“I—I don’t know,” I said, panic clawing its way up my throat. “It hurts. Like something’s trying to—wake up.”

His eyes darkened, pupils flaring as his grip tightened reflexively.

“No,” he murmured, almost to himself. “Not now.”

Another howl split the air, so close it vibrated through my bones. The sound pulled at me, tugged at something deep inside my chest in a way that made my knees buckle.

I cried out, falling forward.

Kael caught me before I hit the ground, his arms locking around me as I shook violently. The contact ignited something between us—an answering pulse that surged through my veins, chasing away the cold and replacing it with fire.

The bond—broken, fractured—reacted.

I felt him then. Not just his body, but his presence, his fear and fury and desperate restraint slamming into me all at once. It was overwhelming, dizzying, intimate in a way that left me gasping.

“Elara,” he said again, his voice rough, strained. “Look at me.”

I did.

For a heartbeat, the world narrowed to just us—to the silver of his eyes, the way his control frayed visibly as the shadows writhed around him, responding to my distress as much as the threat around us.

“You’re anchoring them,” he said slowly, realization dawning. “They’re drawn to you.”

The words sent a fresh wave of terror through me. “I don’t understand.”

“I didn’t want you to,” he said. “Not like this.”

Something snapped then—not the bond, but his restraint.

Kael shifted.

The transformation was violent and breathtaking, bones rearranging with sickening cracks as shadow and muscle fused into a massive form that towered over me. His wolf was enormous, black as midnight, its eyes glowing silver-white as it threw back its head and roared.

The sound was not a howl.

It was a command.

The echoes faltered, their movements stuttering as if confused by an authority they could not disobey. One by one, they dropped to their bellies, whimpering softly.

Then Kael—the wolf—turned back to me.

I should have been afraid.

Instead, something in my chest surged forward, warm and familiar, recognizing him as mine in a way that had nothing to do with ceremony or titles.

The mark on my skin burned suddenly, blazing hot beneath the fabric of my dress.

I cried out, clutching at my collar as the pain intensified, spreading outward in branching lines of heat. The world tilted, darkness creeping in at the edges of my vision as a pressure built behind my eyes.

“Elara!” Kael’s voice sounded distant now, layered with something feral and desperate. “Fight it. Don’t let it take you.”

I didn’t know what it was.

But I felt it—rising, stretching, unfurling like something long restrained. A presence within me stirred, ancient and impatient, responding to the call of blood and moon and shadow.

The forest went utterly silent.

The echoes froze, heads snapping up as if sensing the shift.

I gasped as a voice—not Kael’s, not my own—brushed against my consciousness.

Finally.

My vision flared white, and for one terrifying moment, I felt myself slipping—falling inward, deeper than I had ever gone.

When I came back to myself, I was on my knees, gasping for air.

The echoes were gone.

So was Kael’s wolf.

He stood a few paces away now, human once more, staring at me as if he were seeing me for the first time.

“What did you do?” he whispered.

I looked down at my hands, trembling.

“I don’t know,” I said. “But I think… something heard me.”

Behind us, deep in the forest, something answered.