Chapter nine.

The more I try to walk faster, the more the steps behind me increase too.

Fionna, sensing the danger begins to rattle inside me.

“Hey pretty… what’s a sweet thing like you doing out here all alone?” one of the men, who obviously is drunk, said as he moved towards me.

I ignore him and walk faster. My heartbeat is slamming in my chest.

“Don’t run,” another says, footsteps quickening. “We just wanna talk.”

I duck into a side street, hoping to lose them.

Bad choice.

One of them is already there.

They surround me, cutting off my escape. The stench of alcohol fills the air. One step closer, brushing a filthy finger down my cheek.

“You smell expensive.”

My hands shake. My knees lock.

They don’t see it—don’t smell it.

But my wolf does.

And she’s done waiting.

As the second one reaches for me, a roar tears from my throat—raw and violent—and the air rips open. Pain explodes across my spine. My limbs twisting, snapping, and stretching as my bones break and mend in one breath, Fionna's fur replacing my skin. My scream becomes something else—something I thought I would never hear.

They scream too, but not for long.

In a split of a second the street is soaked red and silent, and the lifeless bodies of the three men laid before me.

For a second, I stare at them, sadness and fear washing over me as I walk towards the mess my wolf had just made. Flesh. Bone. Torn fabric. Screams that had once been real now echoing only in my head.

I stare at my hands.

They’re no longer mine.

They’re clawed. Covered in crimson. My nails—no, talons—are soaked, and beneath them is the unmistakable texture of torn skin.

I can't hold myself up again. Giving up on my weak knees, I fall to the ground.

The pavement scrapes against my skin, grounding me. I bow my head in the silence of the night, ashamed and coming to the realization that what I had wished for all these while, I probably didn't want it.

I stare at my environment. The streetlights cast halos above me, cold and yellow and distant, like stars watching a tragedy unfold.

I let out a sound—something between a sob and a growl—and it scares me more than the dead men lying around me.

What have I done?

What… am I?

My wolf, the thing that had been sleeping deep inside me, now feels closer than ever. Not separate. Not distant. She’s under my skin, panting in my ears, curled behind my ribs. And for a moment, I can feel her emotions—anger, fear, but also… protectiveness.

They would’ve hurt us, she whispers.

They would’ve broken us.

But they’re gone now.

I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to block it out. My hands press to my ears, but nothing helps. The growling still echoes in my skull, along with the sound of ripping flesh and my own voice—pleading, screaming.

And then, as I fought with the sound in my head and the guilt of what I had done, I heard footsteps, and Fionna, impatient, didn't hesitate to take charge.

I whip around, muscles tensing again, half-expecting more danger.

“It's me, Ray.” the familiar voice said out as he stepped into the light.

“Ray?”

I turn to his direction and immediately my eyes meet his, Fionna instantly calms down and a different kind of feeling sprang within me.

I remember him.

The man who came into the council room. It was he who saved me.

I take in his features properly now.

His silhouette cuts through the darkness like a blade. Broad shoulders, sharp jaw, eyes blazing green in the moonlight. For a second, he pauses. His gaze sweeps the alley—the blood, the bodies, me crouched low like a feral animal—and he doesn’t move.

I wait for him to flinch. To recoil. To hate me.

But he doesn’t.

Instead, he walks forward. Slowly. Deliberately.

“Flynn,” he says softly, like he’s afraid to startle me.

I blink, tears welling up in my eyes, blurring the edges of everything. I don’t answer. I can’t. My throat is raw, tight with guilt.

He kneels a few feet away.

“I’m here,” he says again. “You’re safe now.”

Safe?

I laugh—sharp, hollow. “Look around you,” I whisper, my voice breaking. “Does this… does this look like safety to you?”

He doesn’t flinch. He only watches me, his eyes having no judgement in them.

I glance down again. Blood is everywhere. On my arms, my legs, the tatters of my dress. I look like a nightmare. No—not just look like one. I am one.

“You weren’t in control,” Ray says gently, as though reading my mind. “You were cornered. Threatened.”

I shake my head violently, my voice breaking down as deep emotions of guilt welled up in me. “I tore them apart.”

“They were monsters.” he answers, still trying to calm me down.

“I’m worse,” I whisper.

“Hmmm!” He moves closer,his eyes never leaving my face as he did. He moves close enough for me to see the tension in his jaw. The grief in his eyes too, like he understands me and feels what I feel too.

“You protected yourself,” he says. “You survived. That doesn’t make you evil, Flynn.”

“But I liked it.”

That confession slips out before I can catch it. It lingers in the air between us like poison.

Ray doesn’t look away. Not even for a second.

“I felt strong,” I whisper. “For the first time… I wasn’t the one being hunted. I was the hunter.”

He reaches out, his hand hovering just inches from my face.

“Because your wolf is part of you,” he murmurs. “Not a curse. Not a monster. Just… a part you haven’t understood yet.”

A single tear slips down my cheek. He brushes it away—softly, reverently—as though I’m not covered in death and dirt.

I lean into his palm, closing my eyes. Just for a second, I allow myself to feel it—his warmth. His steadiness. His ability to make me seen. It wraps around the storm in me like a thread of light, fragile but real.

“What are we going to do about this?” I ask, lifting my face a little away from Ray's palm and letting my gaze fall on the bodies that are still around us. Still bleeding.

“Don't worry, I will have someone handle it.”

“Let's go home.”

I nod, wiping off the tears that I still had on my face and even though I don’t feel worthy of it, reaching out for Ray's hand stretched out towards me to help me up.

His fingers close around mine—firm, grounding, and reassuring.

“Now, let's get you to master and control your unique power.”