Chapter 3

Lucian’s POV

The soft crackle of the fireplace was the only sound in the room, but it did nothing to ease the storm raging in my head. I paced back and forth, each step a futile attempt to shake off the tension coiling tighter in my chest.

"What the hell were we thinking?" I muttered under my breath, running a hand through my hair. My boots scuffed against the wooden floor as I turned sharply, my eyes darting to the unconscious girl lying on the bed.

Soren sat beside her, his chin resting on his hand, studying her face like she was some rare artifact. Meanwhile, Ewen leaned against the far wall, his arms crossed and his expression as unreadable as ever. The man could remain calm in the middle of a damn hurricane, and it drove me crazy.

"Lucian," Ewen said, his voice steady and deliberate, "if you don’t stop pacing, I swear to the gods, I’ll tie you to that chair."

I glared at him, my fists clenching at my sides. "How the hell are you so calm right now? We don’t even know if she’s the one. What if we just kidnapped some random woman?"

Ewen shrugged, his cool gaze flicking to the girl. "Panicking won’t change anything. We’ll know soon enough."

I let out a frustrated growl and turned away, my hands gripping the back of a chair so hard the wood creaked. "This was a mistake. Look at her. She’s… frail. There’s no way she could be the one from the prophecy. We should've… "

"Wait," Soren interrupted, his voice sharp enough to cut through my rant. He hadn’t taken his eyes off her, and his expression was a mix of curiosity and something else I couldn’t quite place. "We just have to wait for her to wake up. Once she does, we’ll perform the test and find out for sure."

"And what if she’s not?" I shot back. "What if we dragged her out of her life for nothing?"

Ewen straightened, his calm demeanor unwavering. "Then we deal with it. But until then, you need to get a grip, Lucian. You’re not helping anyone by losing your shit."

I opened my mouth to argue, but before I could, the girl stirred.

Her eyelids fluttered, her breathing quickening as she began to wake. All three of us froze, the tension in the room thick enough to choke on.

When her eyes finally opened, they darted around the room in wild panic before landing on us. She sat up abruptly, her face pale and her chest heaving.

"Where am I?" she asked, her voice trembling. "Who are you? Why am I here? Please, don’t hurt me. Please."

Her words hit like a punch to the gut, and for a moment, guilt clawed at me. She looked so small, so terrified, and for the briefest second, I doubted everything we were doing.

Soren leaned forward, his voice soft but firm. "We’re not going to hurt you."

"Bullshit," she snapped, her fear giving way to a spark of defiance. Her hands clenched the blanket tightly, her knuckles white. "You dragged me here against my will. Who the hell does that if they don’t plan to hurt someone?"

Ewen sighed from his corner, his gaze never leaving her. "She’s got a point."

"Not helping, Ewen," I muttered before stepping toward the drawer by the bed. I didn’t say a word as I opened it, my hand trembling slightly as I pulled out the ancient symbol the seer had given us.

The moment I turned back to her, her eyes locked on the object in my hand. Her body stiffened, and something unspoken passed through the air, electric and heavy.

"What’s that?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"You’ll see," I said, my tone sharper than I intended. I placed the symbol on the bed in front of her, stepping back quickly as if it might bite.

For a heartbeat, nothing happened. Then her eyes widened, and a strangled cry escaped her lips as her body convulsed.

The sound of breaking bones filled the room, a grotesque symphony that made my stomach churn. Her limbs twisted and shifted, her form caught between human and wolf. Fur sprouted in patches before retracting, her screams piercing and raw.

"What the fuck?" I whispered, my feet rooted to the floor.

Soren leaned forward, his eyes alight with a mixture of fascination and concern. "It’s happening," he murmured, more to himself than anyone else.

Ewen moved closer, his calm veneer slipping just slightly. "We need to help her."

"How?" I snapped, my voice rising with the chaos. "You want to stop whatever the hell this is?"

Her screams grew louder, her body writhing on the bed as the transformation continued. She was half-wolf, half-human, her face contorted in agony.

"Soren!" I barked.

But he didn’t move. His eyes were locked on her, his expression unreadable.

"Do something!" I shouted.

Finally, Soren stood and grabbed the symbol, yanking it away from her sight. The moment it was gone, her body stilled, collapsing onto the bed like a puppet with its strings cut.

Her chest heaved as she gasped for air, her skin slick with sweat. She looked up at us with wide, glassy eyes, her body trembling violently.

"What the hell just happened to me?" she whispered, her voice raw and broken.

Soren exhaled, his calm tone returning. "You’re the chosen one."

Her brow furrowed, and she shook her head, as if trying to clear the fog from her mind. "The… what?"

And just like that, the room fell into silence, her question hanging in the air like a loaded gun.