Kira's POV
I'm dying.
That's the only explanation for why my bones are snapping like twigs, why my skin feels like it's being ripped apart from the inside, why I can't breathe or scream or do anything except collapse on the forest floor and pray for it to stop.
Not dying, the voice in my head purrs. Becoming.
"Who—what—" I can't even form words. My jaw is breaking, reshaping, and oh God, the pain—
I am you. You are me. We are finally whole.
My wolf. After eighteen years of silence, she chooses NOW to show up? When I was literally minutes away from escaping this nightmare?
Another wave of agony crashes through me. My spine arches, and I hear myself screaming—but it doesn't sound human anymore. It sounds wild. Animal.
Let go, my wolf commands. Stop fighting me.
"I can't—it hurts—"
LET GO!
So I do.
I stop fighting the pain and surrender to it. The transformation speeds up, my human body melting away as something else takes its place. Fur erupts across my skin—no, not skin anymore. Paws replace hands. My senses explode into a million different pieces of information: the smell of pine and earth, the sound of a rabbit's heartbeat fifty feet away, the taste of moonlight on my tongue.
When it's finally over, I'm panting on all fours, my new body trembling with exhaustion.
And power.
So much power I feel like I could run forever, fight anything, take on the whole world.
I stagger to the stream nearby and look at my reflection in the water.
The wolf staring back at me is beautiful.
No—she's magnificent.
Silver-white fur that seems to glow in the moonlight, making me look like I'm made of starlight. Golden eyes that burn with an inner fire. I'm bigger than I should be for a female wolf, almost as large as the male warriors.
"This can't be real," I whisper—except it comes out as a low whine.
This is real, my wolf says, and I can hear the smugness in her voice. This is who we always were. The Moon Goddess made us wait because we needed to be strong enough to handle this power.
"What power? What are you talking about?"
But before she can answer, a scent hits me.
Oh no.
Oh no, no, no—
It's the most incredible smell I've ever experienced. Pine trees after rain. Thunderstorms rolling across mountains. Leather and midnight and something wild and dark and completely intoxicating. Every cell in my body screams at me to follow that scent, to find its source, to—
MATE! My wolf howls with pure joy. Our mate! We found him!
The golden thread appears in my mind, shimmering and beautiful, connecting me to someone back at the house. The mate bond. I can feel it pulling at me like a fishing line hooked through my heart.
"No," I say out loud, even though it comes out as a growl. "No, this isn't happening."
Yes! Go to him! Claim him! He's OURS!
"You don't understand!" I'm backing away from the stream, from the house, from that terrible, wonderful scent. "Whoever he is, he's at Stella's party. Which means he's probably engaged or mated or—"
The bond tugs harder, and suddenly I'm moving forward against my will. My wolf has taken control, and she's dragging us back toward the house, toward our mate.
"Stop! Stop it!"
He needs us. We need him. MATE!
We burst through the tree line, and I can see the pack house lit up like a birthday cake, music and laughter spilling out into the night. The scent is stronger now, so strong I'm drowning in it.
And it's coming from inside.
My wolf forces me closer, and through the window, I see him.
Daemon Silvercrest.
Standing in the center of the room, his head suddenly jerking toward the window like he heard something. His silver-grey eyes are glowing, his whole body going rigid.
He can feel it too. The bond. The pull.
"NO!" I finally wrestle back control from my wolf and stumble backward. "Not him. Anyone but HIM!"
Why not him? He's strong. Powerful. Perfect.
"He's a MONSTER!" I'm shaking so hard my vision blurs. "He made my life hell! He bullied me for YEARS! He told me I'd be better off dead!"
Then why is the Moon Goddess giving him to us?
"I don't know! Maybe she made a mistake! Maybe—"
But the bond doesn't care about logic or history or pain. It just keeps pulling, stronger and stronger, until I feel like my chest is going to rip open.
Inside the house, Daemon is moving toward the door. His face is twisted with confusion and something that might be horror. He doesn't want this either.
Good. At least we agree on one thing.
I force myself to shift back to human form—it's easier the second time, like my body remembers how now. I'm naked, covered in dirt and scratches, but I don't care. I have to get out of here before he—
"Kira?"
Zara appears from behind a tree, her eyes wide. "What are you doing out here? And why are you—" She stops, her nose twitching. "Wait. Is that—do you smell like—"
"Don't say it," I beg.
"You have a mate." Her voice is filled with wonder. "Kira, your wolf finally came, and you found your mate!"
"It's Daemon," I whisper.
The joy drains from Zara's face. "What?"
"My mate is Daemon Silvercrest."
For a moment, she just stares at me. Then: "No. No, that's impossible. The Moon Goddess wouldn't—she CAN'T—"
"But she did." I'm pulling on my clothes with shaking hands—I'd hidden them nearby earlier for my escape. "What do I do? Zara, what do I DO?"
The back door slams open.
We both freeze.
Daemon stands in the doorway, his chest heaving like he's been running. His eyes find mine across the yard, and the bond SNAPS into place between us like a rubber band pulled too tight.
I feel everything. His shock. His anger. His confusion. And underneath it all, his wolf's absolute certainty: MINE.
"You," he breathes, and it sounds like an accusation. Like a curse.
Every instinct screams at me to run toward him. To touch him. To complete the bond.
But I remember every cruel word, every mocking laugh, every time he made me feel worthless.
I remember who he really is.
"No," I whisper, taking a step back. "This is wrong."
"You think I want this?" Daemon snarls, but he's moving forward, his body pulled by the same force dragging at mine. "You think I want to be bonded to worthless trash like you?"
Even now. Even with the mate bond connecting us, he still thinks I'm garbage.
He doesn't mean it, my wolf whimpers. The bond will change everything—
"The bond changes nothing," I say out loud, and I watch Daemon's eyes widen as he realizes I'm not talking to him.
I'm talking to my wolf.
Making a choice she's going to hate.
"Kira, wait—" Zara grabs my arm, but I'm already moving.
Not toward Daemon.
Away from him.
"I, Kira Ashwood—" I start, and Daemon's face goes sheet white.
"Don't," he says, and for the first time ever, I hear fear in his voice. "Don't you dare—"
"—reject you, Daemon Silvercrest—"
"NO!" He's running now, trying to reach me before I can finish.
"—as my mate!"
The words hit like a bomb.
Pain explodes through both of us—I see Daemon collapse to his knees, clutching his chest. I fall too, the bond screaming in protest, trying to hold us together even as I rip it apart.
It feels like dying.
It feels like being torn in half.
But it also feels like freedom.
Through my blurry vision, I see the entire party pouring out of the house. Stella. My parents. Alpha Ryker. Everyone staring at the future Alpha on his knees and the "defect" who just rejected him.
I force myself to stand. To shift. To run.
My wolf is howling in despair, fighting me every step, but I'm stronger now. I won't let her drag us back to him.
Behind me, I hear Daemon's voice—broken, agonized, nothing like the cold boy who tormented me: "KIRA!"
And then a howl that shakes the trees. A sound of such raw pain that something inside me cracks.
But I don't stop running.
I can't.
Because if I stop, if I look back, I might see him as something other than my nightmare.
And that's more terrifying than anything else.