Chapter 1: What have you done to me?

Anaya Morgan tried her best to mask the fear on her face but her hands clenched by her sides, sweat beaded on her brow and her chest heaved, each breath betraying the calm facade she desperately tried to maintain.

She stared warily at the three hunters, Elijah, Marcel and Fed … her ex-childhood friends who surrounded her with the intention to kill.

It wasn't anything new to be surrounded, to be cornered like a prey in the dark. Like prey? She was prey!

It wouldn’t be the first time she was dragged by four or five guys and tied to a tree. Forced to watch on as they made out with each other, their laughter and moans echoing through the woods.

Next would be physical and emotional torture. The broken bones. The mocking howls when they shifted, circling her like a wounded deer. The scars that never quite faded, hidden beneath layers of flesh she'd grown to hate.

She had long mastered the art of forbearance even when pain held her in a chokehold.

However, tonight was different. Tonight FELT different. The howling of wolves at a distance did nothing to ease her fear.

The cool night breeze teased her skin with misguided comfort, stirring the loose strands of her dark hair, and she felt the phantom touch of her mother's voice in her mind:

"It's your fault, Anaya. If the Moon Goddess wanted you, she would have claimed you. You're defective and unwanted. A shame to the Morgan name.”

And she believed. Cause why not? Wasn't it obvious?

She looked from Elijah to Marcel then at Fed, her eyes pleading for mercy she knew she'd never receive.

She hated that she had to beg for it, that she couldn't turn and rip the throats of these hunters and that her weight wouldn't allow her to run even if they gave chase.

Shame! That's all she was. Fat, unturned and ranked so low in the social ladder, she might as well be invisible. She was everything wolves hated, everything they couldn't stand the sight of.

“Look at her," Marcel sneered, stepping closer. His boots crunched against dry leaves and earth, each step a countdown to something terrible. "Begging already. Pathetic."

Anaya's throat burned. "Please. I was just walking home. I didn't.."

"You didn't what?" Fed cut in, his voice dripping with mockery. "Didn't exist? Didn't take up space?”

She flinched as if he'd struck her. The words cut deeper than any blade ever could.

Elijah remained silent, watching her with those cold eyes she'd once thought held warmth. He'd been her first crush. Her first heartbreak. The boy who'd held her hand and promised to protect her, only to become the one who hurt her most.

"Please, Elijah," she whispered, her voice cracking. "You said…"

"I said a lot of things." His voice was cold. "Before I realized what you really are." He stepped forward, and she saw the glint of claws extending from his fingertips. "A stain on our pack. A fat, useless Omega who can't even do the one thing she was born to do."

Before the sting could settle, Fed moved behind her, his breath hot against her ear. "You know what I think? I think we should make her run. Give her a head start. Make it interesting."

Marcel laughed. "She can't run. Look at her. She'd collapse after ten feet.

"Then it'll be quick."

Anaya's heart hammered against her ribs. Run? She couldn't run. Her legs were already shaking, her lungs already burning with the effort of just standing here, cornered.

But then Elijah spoke, and his words sealed her fate. "Run, Anaya."

Pure, primal terror sent her legs moving before her brain could catch up.

Branches whipped across her face, leaving stinging welts on her cheeks. Her lungs burned, each breath a ragged sob that tore through her chest. Her feet slipped on damp leaves, and she stumbled, nearly falling, but somehow she kept going.

Behind her, she heard their howls, triumphant and mocking. They were playing with her. Toying with her like cats with a dying mouse.

Her mind screamed for her to move faster but her body wouldn't obey. Her legs were heavy, her muscles screaming in protest.

"You can't outrun us!" Marcel's voice echoed through the trees, distorted by his shift. "Stop fighting! It'll hurt less if you just give up!"

She ignored him and kept running, gasping… until her foot caught in a tree root that came out of nowhere, and she went down hard, her face slamming into the dirt. Pain exploded through her skull, bright and blinding, and she tasted blood.

They surrounded her again, but this time they weren't humans. Three massive wolves emerged from the darkness, their eyes gleaming with savage hunger. Saliva dripped from Fed's jaws as he circled her, his growls low and menacing.

"Please," she sobbed, curling into herself. "Please, I'll do anything. Just don't…"

The first blow came from Elijah, his claws raking across her back.

Anaya screamed. The pain was unreal—a searing fire that burned through her flesh, her muscles, her very bones. She felt the skin split open, felt the warm gush of blood soaking through her thin shirt.

Marcel lunged next, his teeth sinking into her shoulder.

She felt the puncture. Felt the grind of bone beneath his jaw. The scream that tore from her throat was primal, a sound of pure agony that echoed through the trees.

"She's bleeding so nicely," Fed observed, his voice a low rumble. "Maybe we should draw this out. Make her suffer."

And then it was chaos.

Claws. Teeth. Pain so overwhelming that her vision went white, then black, then white again. She felt her ribs crack. Felt claws rake down her sides. Felt her own blood pooling beneath her, warm and thick and everywhere.

I'm going to die, she thought, and the realization brought a strange sense of peace. Finally. It's finally over. Just as she accepted her fate, something changed.

Anaya felt it before she heard it, a presence and then the voice.

"MINE!"

It was a claim and declaration that echoed through every cell of her body, reverberating in her bones, her blood, her very soul.

The wolves froze mid-attack.

"What.. " Elijah started, but he didn't finish as the ground suddenly trembled and trees shook violently.

Anaya felt something inside her give way. The pain vanished, replaced by something far worse—a pressure so immense that she thought her skull would shatter. It built and built, coiling in her chest like a living thing, demanding release.

And then it exploded.

Her body arched off the ground, a scream ripping from her throat that wasn't entirely human. The voice in her head grew louder, more insistent:

"Mine. MINE. MINE."

And then she felt him. The wolf who'd claimed her from across the distance, whose soul had reached out and wrapped itself around hers like chains of fire.

She felt his fury. His protective rage. The cold, calculating hatred he held for the wolves who'd dared to touch what was his.

"You will pay," he thundered, and the words weren't directed at her. They were for them. For Elijah, Marcel and Fed. "Every single one of you will pay."

Elijah stumbled back, his eyes wild with confusion. "What's happening? What's she doing?"

"I don't know.. " Marcel started, but he was cut off by a howl—not from their pack, but from somewhere impossibly distant, yet impossibly close.

Anaya felt her body begin to change.

Not the shift she'd always dreamed of. The power that surged through her veins wasn't her own—it was his. The bond that had formed between them now pulsed with life, demanding acknowledgment.

Her vision fractured, splintering into a kaleidoscope of impossible images: a towering stone building, torches flickering in the dark, a man's face—sharp cheekbones, eyes the color of winter frost, a cruel mouth twisted in a snarl.

"Who are you?" she choked out.

"Later. First, you fight."

"I can't. I can't. They're going to kill me."

"They will try. And they will fail."

The wolves circled her again, but something had changed. They were wary now.

"Kill her," Elijah ordered. "Now. Before whatever this is…"

But Anaya moved before he could finish. Her body acted on instinct, on his instinct, and suddenly she was lashing out, claws she'd never possessed raking across Fed's snout. He yelped, stumbling back, and the shock of seeing blood on her hands made her stomach lurch.

She looked down at her fingers and realized with dawning horror that they'd changed. Her hands were elongated, tipped with claws that gleamed in the moonlight. She stared at them a little too long, her mind reeling. Could she turn now?

The wounds on her back were still there, still bleeding, but she couldn't feel them anymore.

"Finish it," Elijah snarled, and he lunged.

But Anaya was faster.

She ducked under his attack, rolling across the blood-soaked leaves, and came up swinging. Her claws caught his flank, and she felt the give of flesh, heard his yelp of pain.

"Bitch!" he howled, staggering. "What did you do to me?"

"I don't know!" she screamed back, tears streaming down her face. "I don't know what's happening to me! Just leave me alone!"

But they didn't leave. They came at her again, all three of them, and Anaya felt something inside her snap.

The power that had been building inside of her erupted in a wave that sent all three wolves flying. They crashed against trees, their bodies crumpling, and the forest fell silent.

Anaya stood in the middle of the clearing, her body trembling, her chest heaving, blood pouring from wounds she couldn't even feel anymore.

The bond flared to life, a connection so intense that she gasped. She could feel his heartbeat, his breath and the cold fury tyhat still simmered beneath his icy exterior. “What have you done to me?”

Before Anaya could respond and make sense of what was happening, everything went black.