"They called her a mistake. The moon called her something else."
---
The beast lunged like a thrown spear—fast, furious, final.
Selene didn't move.
Her instincts screamed. Her muscles locked. The world shrank to the gleam of those teeth, the blood on his claws, the death charging at her like a storm—
—and then, she dropped.
The monster's hand sliced through air, smashing into the black tree behind her. Bark exploded. Splinters flew. He howled, more from surprise than pain.
Selene didn't think—she acted.
She thrust her dagger upward. The jagged blade found flesh.
It sank into his side.
Not deep—but enough.
The wolf staggered. His snarl became a shocked gasp.
Selene yanked the blade free and stumbled back. Her arm trembled. Her stomach twisted. Blood coated her hand—his blood.
Her first wound. Her first strike.
Her first kill, if she survived this.
The monster turned slowly, fury flooding his gaze now.
"I'll rip your heart out for that," he hissed.
"Try," she rasped. Her voice didn't sound like hers. It sounded older. Sharper. Feral.
He came again—claws raised high.
She dodged, but not fast enough.
Pain flared. His claws raked across her left arm—four deep lines of fire and agony. Her legs gave out. She collapsed.
The wolf stood over her, grinning. He grabbed her by the throat and hoisted her up.
Her feet dangled. She clawed at his grip, choking, gasping.
"You're nothing," he growled. "A runt. A mistake. You don't even smell like a wolf."
His grip tightened.
Her vision dimmed. The fire faded. Her lungs screamed.
And something inside her...
...snapped.
---
The world went silent.
A low vibration began in her chest—deep, ancient, wrong.
A sound like buried thunder.
A growl.
Her growl.
Her eyes snapped open—no longer brown, but silver. Glowing like moonlight on a blade.
The Ravenscourge's grip faltered.
"What—what are you—?"
Selene screamed.
But it wasn't just her voice.
It was a howl—raw, primal, full of fury and pain and birth.
The sound shattered the silence.
The fire around her died. The air thickened. And then—it appeared.
From the shadows behind her, something rose. Something massive and formless. Smoke and bone. A beast not made of flesh but of nightmare.
It had her eyes.
The Ravenscourge dropped her and stumbled back, suddenly afraid.
Selene landed on her feet. Bleeding. Shaking.
Alive.
The black beast behind her stepped forward, in perfect sync with her breath.
"I don't know what I am," she said, voice low and cold. "But I know what I'm not."
She raised the dagger again.
"I'm not yours."