Chapter 07 (Part 3)

My body shudders, reshapes, folds in on itself and stretches back out—fur and claw, tooth and snarl. The shift is violent this time, more brutal than it’s been in decades. Usually, the change is smooth, controlled, a willing surrender to my other nature.

This is different. This is desperate. This is need incarnate.

Brutal.

When the red haze clears, I don’t know how long it’s been.

Could be minutes. Could be hours. Time moves differently when the wolf is in control, following rhythms older than human civilization.

My paws are muddy and slick with blood—not hers, thank god might be listening. Probably a rabbit. Maybe a raccoon. Something small and quick that had the misfortune to cross my path while the beast was in charge.

The taste of it is copper and salt on my tongue, but it does nothing to satisfy the real hunger gnawing at my chest.

Trees around me are shredded, deep claw marks scarring trunks that have stood for centuries. Branches snapped like twigs. The ground torn into furrows where my claws dug for purchase as I fought against the pull dragging me back toward town.

Back toward her.

I pace in circles, breath steaming in the cold air, hackles raised despite having no real threat to defend against. The wolf wants to run, wants to hunt, wants to claim what the bond insists belongs to us.

The man is screaming beneath him, horrified by his own lack of control.

Then I hear a voice cutting through the chaos in my head.

“You done?”

Elias. Behind me. Calm, as always, like finding me in full wolf form destroying half the forest is just another Tuesday.

But his scent tells me he’s worried, the usual steady pine-and-earth smell tinged with the sharp copper of concern.

I turn slowly, lip curled back to reveal teeth designed for tearing, a low growl vibrating in my chest like distant thunder.

“Don’t,” he says, his voice carrying the weight of authority that comes from decades of friendship and shared secrets.

I take one step toward him, testing his resolve. The wolf wants to challenge, wants to establish dominance, wants to prove that nothing and no one can stand between us and our mate.

He doesn’t back away.

Of course he doesn’t. Elias has never backed down from me, not even when we were children and I was learning to control transformations that came without warning.

“She’s scared, Cassian.”

I stop.

The mention hits like a whip, cutting through the wolf’s fury and dragging the man back to the surface.

“She doesn’t understand what’s happening,” he continues, his voice softer now, gentler. “You’re making it worse.”

The truth of it hits harder than any physical blow. I can sense her fear across the miles, taste it like metal in the air. She’s terrified, confused, fighting against something she doesn’t understand because no one bothered to prepare her for what she’d become the moment her blood touched this land.

And I’m only making it worse by losing control, by letting the wolf run wild when she needs stability, needs someone to show her that this doesn’t have to be a nightmare.

I drop my head and snarl, teeth bared, claws twitching in the dirt. But it’s frustration now, not aggression. Anger at myself, at the situation, at the cruel joke the universe has played by giving me a second chance I never asked for.

“I know,” I try to say, but in this form, it comes out as nothing more than a low whine.

Still, Elias hears it anyway.

He always does. That’s what years of friendship will do—teach you to read meanings in sounds that would be gibberish to anyone else.

I shift back slowly, forcing the change instead of letting it happen naturally.

Bone cracking as it reshapes itself. Muscle tearing as it stretches and reforms. The pain grounds me, forces the wolf to loosen its grip on my consciousness.

I drop to my knees in the dirt, naked, breathing like I’ve just been dragged out of hell and forced back into a body that feels too small to contain everything I am.

My skin steams in the cold air, heat radiating off me in waves. The contrast between my internal temperature and the winter chill makes me shiver despite the fever burning under my skin.

My hands are covered in blood—mine and something else’s. My ribs burn, tight and raw, like I’ve been ripped open from the inside and hastily stitched back together.

Elias doesn’t speak for a long moment, giving me time to find myself again in the wreckage of what I’ve become.

He tosses a pair of pants onto the ground beside me and turns away, giving me what privacy he can.

I pull them on with shaking hands, fingers still too sharp, still more claw than nail.

I don’t say thank you. We’ve moved past the need for such formalities long ago.

The burn in my side pulses again, stronger now, like her proximity is feeding it energy.

I press my hand against it, feeling the raised edges of the scar through my skin.

The mark.

Still glowing beneath the surface, brighter now than it’s been in years. Like her nearness is waking it from the dormant state it’s maintained since…

Since the last time.

I close my eyes, trying to block out the memory that’s always waiting just beneath the surface.

And it comes anyway, uninvited and inevitable.

*Her.*

The first one.

Soft voice that turned hard when she needed to protect someone. Soft eyes that saw through every wall I’d built. Always smiling, even when the world gave her reasons not to. Even when I gave her reasons not to.

Always curious, always asking questions I didn’t know how to answer. Always kind, even to creatures that didn’t deserve it.

Too kind.

She didn’t see the danger coming, too focused on the good in everything to recognize the shadows creeping closer.

She trusted me to protect her, believed in my strength even when I couldn’t believe in it myself.

And I failed.