The sound of the slap echoed louder in Sylvia's head than it did in the room.
Her cheek burned, but the pain there was nothing compared to the tight ache in her chest. She stared at the floor, fists clenched, nails digging into her palms as if grounding herself was the only thing keeping her from shattering completely.
"She's the one who hurt me," the boy repeated, his voice trembling as he leaned closer to his mother.
Sylvia slowly lifted her eyes.
She recognized him.
He was one of the boys from town—one of the awakened. Strong, loud, admired. Someone who had never once spared her a glance before today. Now his arm was wrapped in a bandage, his face pale, eyes carefully avoiding hers.
"I didn't—" Sylvia instinctively tried to speak.
No sound came out.
Her throat tightened in panic. She swallowed and raised her hands, signing frantically, but no one bothered to look.
"Stop pretending," her mother snapped. "You're always causing trouble. Now you've gone and attacked someone?"
"I would never," Sylvia tried again, tears slipping free despite her efforts.
Her father stood, towering over her. "We warned you," he said coldly. "We warned you to stay out of people's way. Look at the mess you've caused."
Her brother scoffed from the corner, his arm draped lazily around his mate. "She's always been strange. Probably snapped because no one wants her."
Laughter followed—soft, cruel.
Sylvia's knees nearly gave out.
Then she heard it again.
Enough.
The voice was sharp, furious, echoing inside her mind.
Trix, Sylvia realized, her heart pounding.
"You will not bow your head," the fox snapped. "You are not weak. You are not theirs to break."
Sylvia inhaled shakily. The air around her felt… warmer. Thicker.
"Mom," the injured boy whimpered. "I don't feel good."
His mother frowned. "What do you mean?"
"I—I feel like something is watching me."
The lights flickered.
Sylvia's parents stiffened.
"What did you do?" her mother demanded again, fear creeping into her voice this time.
Sylvia took a step back.
"I didn't do anything," she managed to whisper, her voice barely audible but unmistakably there.
The room went silent.
Her parents stared at her like they'd seen a ghost.
"You… spoke," her father said slowly.
Sylvia clapped a hand over her mouth, eyes wide. She hadn't meant to. It had just… happened.
A sharp pain flared behind her eyes, and suddenly the world shifted.
The walls shimmered. Colors bled into one another. The air vibrated with energy she had never known but somehow recognized.
You are awakening, Trix said, her tone calmer now. And they are afraid because they feel it too.
The injured boy screamed.
Something invisible shoved him backward, sending him crashing into the couch. His mother shrieked and rushed to him, clutching him protectively.
"What kind of monster are you?" she cried.
Sylvia shook her head, backing toward the stairs. "I didn't touch him. I swear."
Her brother's eyes narrowed, glowing faintly silver.
"So," he muttered, standing. "The mute finally awakens."
His mate stiffened. "That's impossible. She's eighteen. Unawakened past sixteen are—"
"—discarded," he finished coldly. "Or dangerous."
Sylvia felt it then.
Fear—not hers.
The house itself seemed to sense her power, the floor trembling slightly beneath her feet.
Run, Trix urged. They will not protect you. They never have.
Sylvia turned and ran.
Her mother shouted after her, but she didn't stop. She burst out the front door and into the street, her heart racing as memories of the dream flooded her mind—the cliff, the chase, the choice.
Not again.
She wouldn't jump this time.
She ran until her lungs burned, past houses, past stares, until she reached the edge of town where the trees thickened and shadows stretched long.
The Whispering Forest.
She hesitated only a second before stepping inside.
The forest welcomed her.
The moment she crossed the boundary, the air cooled, wrapping around her like a living thing. Her breathing slowed. The pounding in her chest eased.
"You came back," a deep voice said.
Sylvia froze.
From between the trees stepped a man dressed in black, his dark hair tied back, eyes a striking gold that glowed faintly even in the dim light.
Her heart skipped.
It was him.
The one from her dream.
The one who had chased her… and begged her not to leave.
"You," she whispered.
His expression softened, pain flickering across his face. "You remember."
Tears welled in her eyes. "I dreamed of you."
"That wasn't a dream," he said quietly. "It was a memory."
Her legs trembled, and before she could fall, he was there, steadying her.
"You saved me," she said.
He nodded. "I was late. And for that, I will never forgive myself."
Trix stirred inside her, suddenly respectful. Alpha Alex.
Sylvia blinked. "You know him?"
"He is bonded to you," Trix replied. As you are to him.
Sylvia pulled back slightly, confused. "Bonded… how?"
Alex exhaled slowly. "You are not human, Sylvia White. Not fully. You are the last pureblood nine-tailed fox of the Northern Line."
Her world tilted.
"And I," he continued, "am the Alpha of the Black Moon Pack. Your protector. Your destined mate."
Her breath caught.
"No," she whispered. "That's not possible."
"I know it's a lot," Alex said gently. "But everything you've suffered—your silence, your delay—it was because your power was sealed. Someone didn't want you found."
Sylvia clenched her fists. "Who?"
Alex's jaw tightened. "The same ones who are now spreading fear about you in that town."
As if summoned by his words, distant howls echoed through the forest.
Alex turned sharply. "They're coming."
Fear spiked through Sylvia, but beneath it… something else stirred.
Power.
Golden light flickered around her hands, warm and wild.
"I won't run anymore," she said, her voice stronger than it had ever been.
Alex looked at her, surprise giving way to pride. "Then awaken fully, my love."
The ground beneath Sylvia's feet glowed.
Trix laughed, fierce and triumphant. About time.
Sylvia closed her eyes—and let go.