The next thing I knew, a hand was shaking my shoulder. I jolted upright, as I gasped. I was on the bathroom floor, curled into a ball. The Pale morning light filtered through the frosted window.
Kael stood over me, his expression unreadable. "Get up. We need to move."
The memories of the night crashed down on me—the voices, the swirling, alien consciousness that wasn't mine. I scrambled to my feet, my body was stiff and aching.
"Voices... I heard people. In my head," I stammered, my voice hoarse. "They were talking about... about a scent. About blood. They know I'm here." The fear was no longer abstract. It was specific. They were hunting.
He didn't look surprised. He just nodded, once. "The Aethelgard Bond. It doesn't just tie you to me. It opens your senses to the supernatural world. You were hearing the local packs. The restless spirits. The things that go bump in the night. And yes," he added, his gaze sharpening, "some of them were hunting."
He said it so casually.
"What's happening to me?" I whispered, wrapping my arms around myself.
He turned and walked back into the main room, expecting me to follow. "I told you. Your vacation is over. This is your reality now." He started shoving his few things into a duffel bag. "We're leaving in five minutes."
My mind was reeling, but one question, the one from the very beginning, fought its way to the surface. "Why me?" I asked, my voice stronger. "You found me. Specifically. Why? If this... this Aethelgard thing is so old, why did you come for me now?"
He stopped packing and looked at me. For a second, I saw something in his eyes—a flicker of grim necessity.
"Because you're the last one," he said, his voice low. "The last of your bloodline. The magic is strongest in you. And I need that strength."
He zipped the duffel bag with a sharp, final sound.
"Your ancestors kept the knowledge, passed the duty down. Yours failed. They hid you, let you think you were normal. It made you weak. Unprepared." He looked me up and down, a clinical assessment. "But it didn't make you any less necessary. Now, are you ready? Or do I have to command you to move?"
We were in a beat-up sedan, flying down a highway I didn't recognize. I stared at my reflection in the passenger windows. My eyes looked sunken.
That awkward silence
…. It was broken only by the engine's drone and the phantom echo of last night's voices.
"Where are we going?" The question came out small, overshadowed by the road noise.
"North," he said, not taking his eyes off the road.
"North where?"
"A place that's safe."
"From what? The voices? The... the things that trashed my apartment?" My voice was rising, edged with hysteria. "Who are you? Really. Not just a name. What are you?"
He glanced at me, his stormy eyes flicking away just as fast. "I am Kael, son of Alaric, of the Bloodmoon Peak Pack. I am the rightful Alpha." "And I am what your people call a werewolf."
The word landed in the car, absurd and terrifying. Werewolf. It was impossible…..
Werewolves don't exist except in Twilight Saga.
I just stared. The word hung there, ridiculous. Werewolf. Like, full moon, silver bullet, Jacob Black type beat.
Except—
I remembered his speed. His grip. The glowing scar.
.
"And me?" I pressed, my knuckles white where I gripped the seat. "How is a 'weak, unprepared' human, supposed to help a werewolf reclaim his throne?"
He was quiet for a long moment, the only sound was the tires humming on the asphalt.
"My family's power is tied to a place. A sacred stone at the heart of our territory." His jaw tightened. "My brother, the usurper, has defiled it. His presence corrupts it. But he can't fully control it. No one can... without you."
He finally looked at me, and the intensity in his gaze was like a physical force.
"Your bloodline are the Keepers. The only ones who can anoint the stone, awaken its true power, and legitimize the rule of the Alpha who holds your oath. My brother has the throne, but he doesn't have you. He never will."
He turned back to the road, his hands started tightening on the wheel.
"So that is how you will help me. You will stand beside me before the sacred stone. You will do what your blood commands you to do. And you will make me a king."
I slumped back, staring at the highway blurring by.
"Awesome," I muttered.
The voices were a constant, static hum in the back of my skull, like a radio left on in another room. I'd given up trying to block them out and was just trying not to drown in the noise.
"How do I stop the voices?" My question was barely a whisper, but he heard me.
"You don't stop them," Kael said, not taking his eyes off the winding dirt road we'd turned onto. "You learn to filter them. Or you go insane. Most humans in your position do."
"How Charming."
We pulled up to a secluded, run-down cabin tucked deep in the woods. It looked abandoned, but as we got out, the front door opened. A massive man with a thick beard and wary eyes stood there. He gave Kael a sharp, respectful nod.
"Kael."
"Jax," Kael acknowledged, ushering me inside.
The cabin was sparse but clean. It was the first normal, enclosed space I'd been in since my apartment was destroyed. The sheer, quiet stability of it made my knees feel weak.
"We stay the night," Kael announced. "There are clothes in the back room that should fit you. Get changed. Jax will have food ready."
A night. Not in a car. A real room. The concept felt alien and wonderful.
I found the room. It was small, with a simple bed and a dresser. I pulled open a drawer and found a few soft, worn flannels and pairs of jeans. They weren't mine, but they were clean. It was the first small piece of comfort I'd been offered for the past 24 hours of my life.
When I came out, changed and feeling slightly more human, a rich, savory smell filled the main room. My stomach growled loudly. I couldn't remember the last time I'd eaten.
Jax was at a small wood stove, tending to a cast-iron skillet. He served up two plates and set them on the rough-hewn table. It was a thick, dark stew, chunks of meat swimming in gravy alongside some wild-looking roasted roots.
I sat down, my mouth was watering. I picked up my fork, poked at a piece of meat, and my heart sank.
"Um. Is there… anything else?" I asked.
Jax frowned. "What's wrong with it?"
Kael looked up from his plate, already irritated and impatient.
"It's just… I'm vegetarian," I said, feeling quite absurd. I was on the run from supernatural forces, my mind was a supernatural radio, and I was complaining about the menu.
Jax just stared at me. Kael let out a short, exasperated breath.
"You need protein. You need strength. Your principles are a luxury you don't have right now," he said, his tone left no room for argument.
"It's not a principle, it's just what I eat," I shot back, "I can't just turn it off because it's inconvenient for you."
I pushed the plate away. "I'm not eating it."
For a moment, the only sound was the crackling fire. I waited for the warmth of the scar, for the command.
It didn't come.
Kael just looked at me, his gaze unreadable. Then he picked up a roasted root from his own plate with his fingers and tossed it onto my bread plate.
Jax just stared at me for a second, then let out a grunt that could have meant anything, and turned back to the stove. Kael didn't even acknowledge I'd spoken. He just picked up his own fork and started eating.
"Right," I whispered to myself, the word swallowed by the sounds of their chewing and the crackle of the fire. "Okay then."
I pushed the stew around with my fork, the gravy was congealing around the chunks of meat. The roasted root Kael had tossed my way sat on the side of my plate, I ate it, the earthy taste did little to fill the hollow ache in my stomach, or the one in my chest.
They started talking then, Kael and Jax. Low, rumbling voices about "border patrols," "the strength of the western ridge pack," and "the Usurper's movements." I was a ghost at the table.
"She needs to be presented during the full moon."
"The ritual requires the stone to be cleansed with hyssop and wolfsbane."
"We'll need to acquire the ceremonial dagger from the vault."
They were making a shopping list for a coronation I wanted no part of.
I couldn't sit there for another second. The walls of the cabin, which had felt safe minutes ago, made me feel uncomfortable in my own skin. The low rumble of their voices was starting to blend with the other voices in my head, a maddening chorus of plans and threats.
Without a word, I stood up. Neither of them looked at me. I walked to the door, my footsteps silent on the wooden floor. I half-expected a command to stop, a reminder that I was a prisoner.
Nothing.
I opened the door and stepped outside, closing it softly behind me. The cold, pine-scented air hit me like a physical relief. I took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to cleanse the smell of meat and the sound of my own irrelevance from my lungs.
I started walking, not going anywhere, just moving. Putting one foot in front of the other on the needle-strewn path, putting distance between me and the cabin.
As I walked, the static in my mind began t again, the overlapping whispers turned tk growls. The voices were returning. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to remember what Kael said. You don't stop them. You learn to filter them. Or you go insane.
How? How was I supposed to filter this?
"...lost little thing... so far from home…"
"...come closer... the trees can hide you…"
"...we can show you a path he will never find…"
I shook my head, trying to dislodge them. But one voice was different. It was smoother. Calmer. A low, melodic hum that wove through the chaos, gentle as a lullaby.
"...you don't belong to him, child of starlight... you are your own... the path to freedom is just ahead... follow the sound of the water…"
It was so much clearer than the others. So reasonable. It understood. It knew I was a prisoner. It knew I wanted to be free.
"I'm listening," I whispered into the cold air, my breath a pale cloud.
The voice cooed in response, a sound of profound approval. "...yes... just a little further... leave the monster behind…"
My feet started moving on their own, they were no longer aimless. I was following the voice, drawn by its promise like a moth to a flame. The trees thickened, when I looked back I could no longer see the cabin again. I didn't care. The voice was the most compassionate thing I had ever heard for the past 24 hours.
Give me a break.It sounded friendly.
"...that's it... almost there... you will be safe with us…"
"I'll be safe," I repeated, my voice , hypnotized. The world had narrowed to the path in front of me and the soothing sound in my head. The fear, the confusion, the hunger—it all melted away under the voice's gentle command. I was so close. Just a little further and I could rest. I could be free.
A hand clamped down on my shoulder, spinning me around.
The connection shattered. The gentle voice twisted into a furious, psychic shriek before it was ripped from my mind.
I blinked, gasping. I was standing at the edge of a steep, rocky ravine, one foot poised over the edge. Below, a stream rushed over jagged rocks.
Kael stood in front of me, his face a mask of cold fury. His eyes weren't on me, but scanning the trees around us, a low growl rumbling in his chest.
I stumbled back from the edge, my heart hammering, the reality of where I was crashing down on me. I had almost walked off a cliff.
"You were talking to them," he said, his voice dangerously quiet. He finally looked at me, and the fear I saw in his eyes, for the first time, real fear, was more terrifying than his anger.
"Kael? What's that sound???
That's not right?"