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Elixir’s Point Of View
The moon hung heavy in the velvet sky, a silent spectator to my misery. Its silvery light streamed through the cracks in my attic window, illuminating the meager space I called a room. The scent of damp wood and dust filled the air, clinging to my skin as I sat on the creaking mattress. My body ached from the day’s work, scrubbing floors, hauling firewood, and preparing meals for people who barely acknowledged my existence. I was exhausted, but not just physically. My soul felt tired, like an overworked thread fraying at the edges.
Ever since my father’s death, my life had become a cruel caricature of the promises he made me believe in. “Elixir, my love,” he used to say, “you’re destined for greatness. You’re special.” Those words were now a distant memory, buried under the weight of his widow’s cruelty.
*Flashback begins*
His breathing was labored, every exhale sounding like it would be his last. I sat by his bedside, clutching his frail hand in mine. My stepmother, the ever dutiful actress, dabbed at her eyes with a silk handkerchief. Beside her, my stepsister Amaya sat stiffly, her face devoid of emotion.
“I don’t have much time,” my father rasped, his voice barely audible. “Promise me one thing, my love.”
“What is it, darling?” my stepmother asked, her tone syrupy sweet.
“Take care of Elixir,” he whispered, his gaze fixed on me with an intensity that made my chest ache. “She is special. One day, she’ll lift this family’s name to heights we can’t even imagine.”
My stepmother placed a trembling hand on her chest, her voice thick with false sincerity. “I promise, my love. She will be as my own child.”
I wanted to believe her. For a fleeting moment, hope flickered in my heart. But that hope died the moment my father’s eyes closed for the final time.
The memory dissolved, leaving a bitter taste in my mouth. The promise she made had been nothing but a lie. Days after his death, my stepmother shed her façade and revealed her true self, a cruel tyrant who saw me as nothing more than free labor.
“Wolfless and worthless,” she’d sneered one day, her sharp voice cutting through me like a blade. “You’ll never amount to anything. You’re just a burden, I wish I could sell you off.”
Her words echoed in my mind as I stared at the full moon. I was twenty years old and still hadn’t shifted. Most wolves experienced their first shift at eighteen. But not me. Not the freak who didn’t belong.
“Moon Goddess,” I whispered, my voice trembling. “Please, if you’re listening, grant me a wolf. Let me prove them wrong. Let me be something… anything.”
As if in answer, a sudden, sharp pain shot through my spine. It was so intense that it stole the breath from my lungs. I doubled over, clutching my sides as my bones seemed to burn from the inside out.
“What the…” I gasped, but the words died in my throat as the pain came again, this time stronger.
My body convulsed, muscles tearing and twisting in ways they weren’t meant to. A guttural scream tore from my lips as I collapsed to the floor, my nails digging into the wooden boards.
“Mother’s asking for you!” Amaya’s shrill voice cut through the agony.
I barely managed to lift my head. She stood in the doorway, her arms crossed and her face twisted in disdain.
“It’s late,” I choked out. “Can’t it wait until morning?”
Her lips curled into a cruel smile. “You must have a death wish, you cursed bitch. Get your ass downstairs before I drag you there myself.”
She stormed off, slamming the door behind her. I clenched my jaw, trying to ignore the wave of rage that surged through me. But before I could get up, another jolt of pain wracked my body, this time more violent than before.
My skin felt like it was on fire, every nerve ending alight with excruciating heat. I screamed as my spine arched unnaturally, the snapping of bones filling the air like the crack of thunder. My hands, no, claws dug into the floor, splintering the wood beneath them.
“What’s happening to me?” I sobbed, tears streaming down my face.
My vision blurred, the world around me shifting into a monochrome palette of black, white, and shades of gray. My teeth elongated, sharp and predatory, while my limbs contorted into something not entirely human.
I felt my body split, as though I existed in two forms at once, wolf and human, yet neither fully. The transformation was both agonizing and intoxicating, a primal force awakening inside me that I couldn’t control.
And just as suddenly as it began, it stopped. I lay on the floor, gasping for air, my body drenched in sweat.
“What the hell…” I whispered, but my voice sounded strange, deeper, raw, almost feral.
A sharp gasp pulled my attention to the doorway. My stepmother and Amaya stood frozen, their faces pale with terror.
“Monster!” my stepmother shrieked, her voice breaking.
I tried to speak, to explain, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, a low growl rumbled in my chest, one I couldn’t suppress.
They turned and bolted, their screams echoing through the house. I was left alone, trembling and confused, my senses overwhelmed by the strange new world I was experiencing.
The room felt too small, the air too thin. My heightened senses picked up every creak in the floorboards, every gust of wind rattling the windows.
“What the hell is happening to me?” I whispered, my voice shaking. “Who am I?”
Ewen’s POVI’ll admit I underestimated the Order once. Twice even. But never did I expect them to weaponize consequence.Elixir walked into midnight’s hollow with fire arcing across her fingers like living questions, and when I followed cautiously behind, the unchanged air asked everything I didn’t want to hear.Ash-Elixir waited. Not in shadows. Not in threat. She stood under a black banner stitched with silver runes—among wolves that no longer breathed.My oath tightened in my chest. That banner wasn’t a challenge. It was an invitation.They spoke in hushed tones, wolves kneeling, hands extended to a crown ash would carve.Elixir faced them alone, flame in her palms and the weight of fate behind her.I believed we could still turn this. Reinforce memory. Remind them why scars mattered more than ease.The moment the first kneeling hand rose, I saw betrayal. Not fear. Not respect. Just relief.Lucian wasn’t there. He still hung inside the ruin’s echo six nights later. They hadn’t retu
Lucian’s POVI was already awake when the hood was ripped off my head.The chamber stank of damp stone and something older—something wrong. My eyes adjusted slowly. Pale torchlight flickered against carvings I couldn’t translate, symbols that looked like wounds carved into the walls. Chains clinked behind me. Not mine. Someone else was here.But I didn’t speak.Not yet.Silence, I’d learned, could wound deeper than words.“You’re quieter than I expected, Alpha.”The voice came from the shadows, a figure cloaked in ash-colored silk, face hidden by a silver veil. “Or is that fear choking your throat?”I shifted my weight subtly, testing the shackles. Bone-forged. Faintly humming with magic. Elixir’s fire might’ve broken them—but I wasn’t Elixir. I was only the weapon she trusted not to miss.“I don’t speak to ghosts,” I said.The figure chuckled, and stepped forward. “Then it’s a good thing I’m not dead.”I recognized her now.Not by her features—Ash-Elixir wore Elixir’s face like a sto
Soren’s POVI’ve watched blood spill. I’ve seen men become monsters and monsters beg like men. But nothing—nothing—prepared me for the moment I saw Elixir float above the altar, eyes wide with celestial fire and pain tangled in her scream. She didn’t glow. She seared.And when she dropped, silent and trembling, the world tilted.Lucian hadn’t returned from his patrol. We thought he was delayed, distracted, maybe scouting the riverline. But I knew better. He was never late. Never careless.He was taken.Ewen was the first to admit it aloud. “The Order’s pushing harder. They want her distracted. Breaking apart her mind from the inside, and now—us.”He didn’t say Lucian’s name. He didn’t need to. The air choked with it.Maelis began warding the perimeter twice a night. Elixir refused sleep. And every time she closed her eyes, her face twisted—like Ash-Elixir clawed at the edges of her dreams.“Something’s changed,” I told Ewen as we walked the north tree line. “She doesn’t just see her n
Lucian's POVWaking up wasn’t the hard part. Remembering who I was—that was.I opened my eyes to darkness, and not the kind that belonged to night. This was silence given shape, humming just beneath the skin like it wanted to become something. The ceiling above me pulsed. Not visibly. Just enough that I knew it breathed.Not a prison. Not quite.Chains didn’t hold me. I held myself.My memories came back in pieces. The scouting ridge. The flicker of movement. A woman’s voice without lips. Then sleep.No. Not sleep. Something deeper.Elixir. That name held shape. Weight. It anchored me. I grabbed hold of it like it was the only real thing.The Order hadn’t tortured me. Not in ways flesh understands. They whispered dreams into my veins. Rewrote truths. Offered me a world without burden.They let Ash-Elixir sit beside me. Look like her. Sound like her. And she asked me questions not even Elixir dared.“Do you still love her?”I lied the first time. Told her yes with conviction. But it wa
Soren’s POVShe didn’t speak.Not when she stepped through the veil. Not when her eyes met Elixir’s. Not even when half the pack inhaled like they'd seen a goddess rise from smoke and shattered memory.And that silence screamed louder than war drums.I could feel her in my marrow—Ash-Elixir. That’s what I’d started calling her in my mind. A whisper of the real one, made of ambition and burn, not fire and choice. This wasn’t a copy. This was what Elixir could’ve become if she’d embraced the throne Virex left behind without question.She didn’t blink. Didn’t breathe. Just stood at the Grove’s edge like the trees had knelt to let her pass.Ewen flinched beside me. Not visibly. Not enough for anyone to notice. But I saw the twitch in his wrist, the flex of his jaw.He felt it too.The wrongness.Not evil. That would’ve been easier. This was something else.Familiarity, bent sideways.Lucian’s blade gleamed under the twilight. My own hand hovered over my runes, waiting for a sign. Any sign
Elixir’s POVThe raven dissolved into ash before my eyesBut the scroll in my hand remainedLight as paperHeavy as prophecyShe has not been buried. She has been crowned.It wasn’t a threatIt was a declarationAnd it didn’t come from VirexIt came from herThe one behind the veilThe one who hadn’t died in grief, or broken in silenceThe one who didn’t choose mercy when she was madeLucian stared at the scroll, jaw clenched so tight I thought his teeth might crackSoren stood at my side, fingers twitching against the hilt of a blade carved from bone—not out of fear, but preparationEwen said nothingBut his eyes had narrowed the moment the raven appeared, like he’d known something we hadn’tAnd now the knowing had arrivedI walked back toward the altar, running my thumb along the scar burned into the stone“Not all reflections want to be healed,” I said. “Some are made to punish.”Lucian stepped beside me. “Is she another fragment?”I shook my head. “No. She’s a possibility. One I n







