Chapter three

Christina's Pov

Breathe

I gasped as I choked on air, the air burning my deprived lungs. I coughed and gagged, clawing at the ground as spots danced in my vision.

The world came back in fragments.

Light filtering through trees. Rough earth beneath my palms. The scent of pine and damp soil, sharp and overwhelming. Every sound crashed into me all at once. Birds chirping too loudly, wings fluttering overhead, leaves rustling somewhere nearby. Far off, a long, distant howl rose and faded, sending a shiver down my spine.

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to steady myself, but my heart wouldn’t slow. It pounded hard enough that I could feel it in my throat.

“Calm down,” a voice said.

I went still.

The words weren’t spoken aloud, yet they were clear, firm, and impossibly close. Not carried on the wind. Not echoing through the trees.

Inside me.

My breath stuttered. “Who… who is that?” I tried to shout, panic clawing up my chest, but my throat felt like it had been scraped raw with gravel. The sound that came out was hoarse, broken, barely louder than a whisper.

“Drink.”

The command cut through the haze.

I forced my eyes open again and turned my head. The movement made my vision spin, nausea rolling through me, but I focused until the world steadied. Just a few feet away, sunlight glinted off moving water. A narrow stream wound its way through the forest, clear and deceptively calm.

My legs trembled uselessly when I tried to shift my weight. So instead, I dragged myself forward crawling on the rough ground.

My palms scraped against dirt and stone. Sharp rocks bit into my skin, tearing through fabric and flesh alike. I hissed as pain flared up my legs, warm blood smearing against the earth, but I kept going. Pain grounded me. It reminded me I was real. That this wasn’t some dying dream.

I reached the stream and collapsed beside it, plunging my hands into the water. It was icy, shockingly so. I cupped it and brought it to my mouth, drinking greedily.

The cold burned as it slid down my throat, my body recoiling at first, then slowly accepting it. I drank again, and again, until the shaking eased just a little and my breaths no longer came in sharp, panicked gasps.

“My name is Kyros,” the voice said.

I froze mid-swallow.

My hands trembled as I lowered them back into the stream. “How…” I swallowed hard. “How are you in my head?”

There was no mockery in his response. No impatience. Just calm certainty.

“I am your wolf.”

A sound bubbled out of me before I could stop it. A weak, breathless laugh that tasted like disbelief and hysteria. “That’s not possible,” I said. “I don’t have a wolf.”

“You didn’t,” Kyros replied. “You do now.”

I shook my head slowly, staring down at my reflection rippling in the water. Dirt-streaked skin. Wild eyes. A stranger looking back at me. “That’s not how it works,” I whispered. “Everyone knows that. You’re either born with one or you’re not.”

“Most are,” he agreed.

“Then why me?” My voice cracked. “Why now?”

Silence stretched between us. Not empty, but heavy, like something was being weighed.

“I cannot tell you why the Moon Goddess did not give you a wolf,” Kyros finally said. “That choice was never mine.”

My chest tightened painfully. “So what are you, then?”

“I need your help.”

The words sent a jolt through me, cold and sharp. I laughed again, this time without humor. “That’s not an answer.”

“You were not chosen by the Moon Goddess,” Kyros said, his voice lowering. “I was not sent to you by her.”

Panic flared hot and sudden. “Then why are you here?” I whispered. “What are you?”

“I am ancient,” he replied. “I was bound long before you were born. Passed down through generations of alphas of the Ebonridge pack.”

I pressed my hand to my chest, as if I could feel him there. “So why me?” I asked again, softer now. “Why did you choose me?”

“I did not choose,” Kyros said. “Circumstances did.”

“That’s not comforting.”

“No,” he agreed. “But it is the truth.”

I swallowed and forced myself to breathe steadily. “Then tell me what happened.”

“The alpha is dead.”

The words hit harder than I expected.

“Dead?” I echoed.

“He was murdered,” Kyros said, and something dark flickered through the bond. Anger. Grief. “Betrayed by his own beta during what was meant to be a rogue attack.”

My fingers curled into the damp soil. “A rogue attack?”

“Yes.”

The forest seemed to close in around me, memories rising unbidden. Smoke. Screams. The chaos of Riverstone burning while everyone I trusted turned their backs.

“Was it…” My voice shook. “Was it the same group? The ones who attacked Riverstone?”

“Yes,” Kyros said immediately. “The same rogues. They are not acting alone.”

My heart pounded harder. “Who?”

“They are working with Beta Vax,” he said. “And Caitlin.”

The name was like a blade to the chest.

My vision blurred, then sharpened violently, red bleeding into the edges of everything I saw. Caitlin’s smile flashed in my mind. Sweet. False. The way she’d watched me be accused, condemned, discarded.

My nails dug into the earth until my fingers ached. “She ruined me,” I said, my voice barely human. “She took everything.”

“She will pay,” Kyros said, unyielding. “They all will. But I cannot do this alone.”

I sucked in a shaky breath. “You want revenge.”

“I want justice,” he replied. “But revenge will do.”

The forest felt suddenly too quiet. Too still. I thought of Riverstone. Of being hunted, cast out, left to die.

“I accept,” I said, the decision settling into place with frightening ease.

The bond tightened, something clicking into alignment. “Good,” Kyros said. “Then listen carefully.”

“I’m listening.”

“You must go to Ebonridge,” he continued. “The pack needs an alpha. His son has taken the position, but he is untested.”

“And you’re bound to him,” I realized.

“No, I was bound to his father but I still have a duty to his son.”

“Then why not bind yourself to his son”

“Because he already has a wolf,” Kyros said. “If I had, there would be no pack left to save.”

I pushed my hands into the ground and slowly tried to rise. My legs shook violently beneath me, muscles screaming in protest, but I forced myself upright.

And then pain exploded through my chest.

It was sharp, crushing, as if something had reached inside me and clenched my heart in its fist. I gasped, collapsing back to my knees, clutching at my torn gown as my entire body trembled.

I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. The world narrowed to agony.

“He can feel you.”