The Wolf Inside

The nightmares didn’t creep in anymore. They crashed into Ezra like a wave he couldn’t fight—violent, immediate, like they’d been waiting behind his eyes all day.

Woods twisted into bone. Trees licked with fire. A cracked moon bleeding silver overhead. The air choked with howls—thousands of them—layered into one roar of hunger and fury. Ezra ran, breathless, helpless, and every time he turned a corner, he saw himself.

Only it wasn’t him.

It was taller. Wilder. Crowned in flame, eyes like hollow stars. His mark, glowing like it had been carved by something ancient. And behind it—behind him—stood the wolf. Towering. Chained. Smiling like it knew exactly how this ended.

Ezra bolted awake, gasping, the sheets soaked through. The cold air bit at his skin, but steam still rose from him like heat was leaking from his bones. His mark pulsed under his shirt, angry and hot, as if it had been fighting in the dream too.

He pressed his palm to it, trying to steady his breath. It felt like it was trying to get out.

Kael sat on the edge of the bed, already awake, his hair a mess and his jaw clenched. He didn’t ask what Ezra saw. He didn’t need to.

Instead, he held out a towel, then a bottle of water.

Ezra took them, hands shaking. “Third night,” he muttered.

Kael’s voice was soft but firm. “It’s not just a dream anymore, is it?”

Ezra shook his head. “It’s in me, Kael.”

And that truth settled like a stone in the room.

---

By morning, Blackthorn was fraying.

Tension skittered through the halls like static. Wolves snapped over the smallest things—whose shift ran late, who stepped too loud. Even the air felt off. Like the storm from the other night hadn’t ended. It had just gone quiet.

Ezra sat in the war room with Mira and two younger scouts. Maps were out. Patrol notes half-read. But no one was paying attention. Not really.

The younger wolves couldn’t stop sneaking glances at Ezra’s arms, like they were waiting for him to ignite. Mira’s usual blunt energy had dulled—she didn’t even bother hiding her unease.

Then Kael walked in.

The shift in the room was instant. Like a crack in the pressure. They still trusted him. Even if they weren’t sure about Ezra anymore.

“Anything on the ridge?” Mira asked.

Kael shook his head. “Still. Too still.”

Ezra looked up. “Then they’re watching us. Or baiting something.”

Kael didn’t disagree.

Ezra pushed to his feet. “I need to go back to the chapel.”

“No,” Kael said sharply, moving in front of him. “You came back barely breathing last time. That place is a trigger.”

“I’m already a fuse,” Ezra snapped. “I either burn here or burn there—but at least in the chapel, I might understand what’s happening to me.”

Kael’s voice dropped to almost a whisper. “Or you lose more of yourself.”

Ezra opened his mouth to respond—but a scream ripped through the silence.

Not from outside.

From the infirmary.

---

They ran.

By the time they got there, the healer was backing out into the hall, pale, shaking.

“He woke up,” she breathed. “But something’s wrong with him. Very wrong.”

Inside, Alric was sitting upright in bed. But his eyes—his eyes—were glowing. White, blinding, not of this world. His body didn’t move. Just his mouth.

Ezra stepped closer, cautiously. “Alric?”

Alric’s head snapped toward him, and a voice came out that wasn’t his. A voice ancient and bone-deep.

> “The seal breaks. The gate cracks. The wolf remembers.”

Ezra’s mark flared, pain slamming through his arm like lightning. He staggered, nearly dropped to his knees.

> “When the bloodline burns, the vessel cracks. When the moon bleeds, the path clears.”

Kael shoved Ezra behind him, sword drawn. “It’s possessing him.”

“No,” Ezra gasped, shaking. “It’s warning us.”

Alric convulsed, then dropped back into the bed. One last whisper, soft as breath:

> “The wolf is already inside.”

Then silence. Normal breathing. Closed eyes. Like none of it had happened.

Ezra couldn’t speak.

Because the second Alric said those words, he felt it.

Something had clicked inside. A door swinging open. Not far away.

Inside him.

---

He didn’t wait for night.

He waited for Kael.

Kael didn’t argue. He just handed Ezra his cloak and said, “Come back to me.”

Ezra nodded. “I’ll try.”

The chapel was darker than before. Quieter. The candles already lit.

Waiting.

He crossed the room like he’d done it a thousand times, placed both palms on the altar, and whispered:

“I’m here.”

His mark ignited.

The world cracked wide open.

---

He stood in the prison again.

But this time, the wolf wasn’t chained.

It was walking toward him—fur gold and black, its body too large, too old. Its eyes were his own.

> “You’ve run long enough,” the wolf said. “You are the last. You are the gate.”

Ezra’s legs trembled, but he stood his ground. “I’m not your vessel.”

The wolf’s smile was slow. Cold.

> “Then why are you breaking?”

Ezra’s whole body burned. Like fire had taken root in his bones.

But he didn’t scream.

“I’m not breaking,” he said through his teeth. “I’m becoming.”

The wolf tilted its head, studying him.

Then, slowly… it bowed.

Just a tilt. Just enough.

> “Then wake. And choose.”

---

Ezra gasped, lurching back into his body.

The chapel’s altar still under his hands. The air still thick. But something inside him had changed.

His mark glowed gold and black now—woven, balanced.

Kael waited at the door, breath catching when their eyes met.

“Something’s changed,” Kael said.

Ezra nodded. “The wolf is awake. But I’m still me.”

Kael stepped closer, slow, cautious. “Then what is it?”

Ezra looked past him, out into the night. His voice steady, sharp.

“It’s waiting.”

A howl cut through the trees beyond Blackthorn—deep, ancient, not from any pack they knew.

Ezra’s mark pulsed once, sharp and hot. And a whisper followed behind it like a shadow:

> “Choose wisely. The storm is here.”

---

Ezra has stopped running. The wolf is no longer a threat, but a power waiting for direction. As the moon rises again and Blackthorn holds its breath, the weight of his bloodline and choices is about to reshape everything. Will Ezra lead the storm—or become it?