Chapter 6: The Reckoning

Luan hit Julian like a storm.

Her body was not her body. It was longer, leaner, built for speed and slaughter. Her jaws found his arm before he could raise the silver knife. Teeth sank into flesh. Bone cracked. Julian screamed.

The wolves behind him did not move.

They watched. They smelled the change in her. The latent wolf was not supposed to be this strong. The latent wolf was not supposed to be this fast.

Julian swung the knife. Silver burned across her flank. She felt the wound like a brand, but she did not let go. She bit down harder. His blood filled her mouth.

Hot. Sweet. Alive.

She wanted more.

Luan!

Cass's voice cut through the red haze. She looked up. He was standing at the edge of the fight, his hands raised, his gold eyes wide.

Don't kill him, he said. If you kill him, the pack will hunt you forever.

She looked down at Julian. His grey eyes were glassy with pain. His arm hung at a wrong angle. The silver knife had fallen from his grip.

She released his arm.

He stumbled backward, clutching the wound. Blood poured between his fingers.

You, he gasped. You're not—

I'm not what? Her voice came out wrong. Deeper. Rougher. Not entirely human.

Not supposed to exist, he whispered.

Luan turned to the wolves. Six of them. Cowering in the corners of the cabin. Their tails were between their legs. Their ears were flat.

She walked toward them. They pressed themselves against the walls.

You have a choice, she said. Follow him. Die for him. Or walk away and live.

The wolves looked at each other.

The first one turned and ran out the door. Then the second. Then the third.

Julian screamed after them. Cowards. Traitors. I'll kill you all.

But he could not move. His arm was ruined. His pack was gone.

Luan walked back to him. She knelt so her face was level with his.

You're going to leave now, she said. You're going to walk out that door and into the woods. And if I ever see your face again, I won't stop at your arm.

Julian stared at her. For the first time, his grey eyes showed something other than cold amusement.

Fear.

He stumbled to his feet. He clutched his arm to his chest. He walked to the door.

This isn't over, he said.

Yes it is, she said.

He left.

The door swung shut behind him.

Luan stood in the center of the cabin. Her body was shaking. The wolf was still there, pressing against her skin, wanting to run, wanting to hunt, wanting to taste Julian's blood again.

Luan. Cass's voice was soft. Come back.

She tried. She pushed the wolf down. It clawed at her.

I can't, she said. I can't cage it.

Yes you can. You did it before.

That was different. I wasn't this hungry.

He crossed the room. He put his hands on her shoulders. His touch was warm. Steady.

Feel me, he said. Not the wolf. Not the hunger. Me.

She closed her eyes. She focused on his hands. The calluses on his palms. The warmth of his fingers. The slow rhythm of his heartbeat.

The wolf retreated. Inch by inch. Claw by claw.

She opened her eyes.

Her vision was normal. The cabin was dim. Cass was just a man.

She looked at her hands. Human. Clean.

Her mother was still huddled in the corner. Regina's face was white. Her lips were moving, but no sound came out.

Luan walked to her. She knelt and picked up the fallen syringe.

Is this really what you want for me? she asked. An empty life? A cage?

Her mother's eyes filled with tears.

I want you to live.

Then help me fight. Don't help Julian cage me.

Regina looked at the syringe. At her daughter. At Cass, who stood by the stove, watching.

I don't know how, she whispered.

Then learn.

Luan snapped the syringe in half. The pale liquid dripped onto the floor. Her mother flinched.

It's done, Luan said. No more suppressants. No more hiding. No more making myself small.

She stood up. She turned to Cass.

How much time did I just lose?

He was quiet.

Tell me.

The shift was almost full. The fight. The healing. He took a breath. Two weeks. Maybe more.

She touched her temple. The grey streak was wider. Her hair felt brittle.

Three hundred and thirty-seven days left, she said.

Cass nodded.

Her mother made a sound like a wounded animal.

Three hundred and thirty-seven days, Regina repeated. That's all you have?

Luan looked at her mother. At the fear in her eyes. At the love buried under decades of terror.

That's all anyone has, she said. I just know my number.

She walked to the door. She opened it. The dawn light spilled into the cabin.

Where are you going? Cass asked.

To the clearing. To practice.

You just lost two weeks.

Then I need to get better at not losing weeks.

She stepped outside. The air was cold and clean. The trees were still. Somewhere in the distance, a bird sang.

Cass followed her. He stood at her shoulder.

I'm coming with you.

I know.

They walked into the woods. The cabin door stayed open. Regina sat alone on the floor, surrounded by broken glass and spilled suppressant, and for the first time in twenty-two years, she had nothing to say.

---

The clearing was empty.

The grass was flattened where the wolves had circled. Julian's blood had soaked into the earth. Luan stood in the center and closed her eyes.

Call the wolf, Cass said.

Not yet.

What are you doing?

Listening.

She listened. Not with her ears. With her blood. The wolf was there, pacing, hungry, but it was not fighting to get out. It was waiting.

It knows, she said.

Knows what?

That Julian is gone. That the threat is passed. It only comes when I need it.

Cass walked to her. He stood in front of her. His gold eyes searched her face.

That's not how it works for most wolves, he said. The hunger is always there. Always fighting.

Maybe I'm not most wolves.

He smiled. It was a small smile. Tired. Hopeful.

No, he said. You're not.

She reached up and touched the grey streak in his hair.

How much time do you have left? she asked.

He looked away.

Answer me.

Six months, he said. Maybe less.

Then we have six months to figure out how to break the curse.

There's no breaking it. The curse is the wolf. The wolf is the curse.

Then we make a new curse.

She kissed him. Not desperate. Not hungry. A promise.

He kissed her back. His hands found her waist. Her hands found his chest. The wolf stirred, but it did not lunge. It watched. It waited.

They pulled apart.

Six months, she said. Three hundred and thirty-seven days.

He nodded.

Let's make them count.

They walked back to the cabin. The sun was fully up now. The birds were loud. The world was ordinary and strange and terrifying and beautiful.

Her mother was gone. The broken syringe was gone. The blood was gone.

On the table, a single note in shaky handwriting.

I'll try to learn. I love you. Don't die.

Luan folded the note and put it in her pocket.

She looked at Cass.

Train me, she said.

He nodded.

From now until the moon. No rest. No mercy.

No mercy, she agreed.

He held out his hand.

She took it.

And the wolf inside her smiled.