HAZEL
The darkness had teeth.
I was running through Silvercreek's halls, barefoot, my nightgown catching on invisible thorns. The stone floors were cold. So cold they burned. Behind me, footsteps echoed.
They were heavy and they kept multiplying with each turn I took. I didn't look back. I knew what was chasing me.
The whispers started soft, then grew louder.
Omega. Omega. Omega.
The word wrapped around my throat like fingers. I tried to scream, but my voice came out wrong. Thin. Weak. The sound a prey animal makes when it knows the hunt is over.
I rounded a corner and stopped.
The grand hall stretched before me, filled with wolves from every pack. They stood in rows, silent and still, their eyes tracking my movement. At the front, my mother and father waited on a raised platform. Behind them, a banner hung—the Silvercreek crest, except the silver wolf had been crossed out in blood.
"Please," I whispered. My voice cracked. "Please, I didn't mean—"
