Lucien felt it before he heard the whispers.
A sharp tear in the fabric of fate, like the universe itself had shuddered. He was standing in the heart of his territory—the ruins of Black Hollow Keep—when the sensation struck him.
The air thickened.
The shadows shifted.
Then came the pain.
A violent twisting in his chest, like claws had hooked into his soul and yanked. His vision blurred, his knees nearly buckling. His wolves froze around him, sensing the sudden shift in the air, their ears flattening.
They didn't know what had happened.
But Lucien did.
His lips parted, a whisper slipping free.
"She lives."
For a moment, there was only silence.
Then, the ground trembled.
The ancient stone walls groaned as if they could sense the change as if even the bones of this cursed place knew that something had returned.
Something that was never meant to.
Lucien's hand curled into a fist, his claws slicing into his palm. The scent of his own blood filled the air, but he barely noticed. His mind was already spiraling, piecing together what this meant.
The ritual had failed.
The gods had denied him.
And Sana—his fated rival, the Moonborn herself—had awakened.
A slow, cold smile curled his lips.
Good.
He had spent lifetimes waiting for this moment, weaving his power into the fabric of the old magic, preparing for her return. She had been his once. She would be again.
Even if he had to break her to make it so.
Lucien turned to the pack members gathered in the shadows, his golden eyes burning.
"Find her." His voice was like silk over steel. "And bring her to me."
The wolves bowed low before vanishing into the darkness.
Lucien let out a breath, rolling his shoulders as the last remnants of the soul-wound faded. His heart still pounded, his blood still hummed.
It had been centuries since he felt this alive.
Sana was reborn.
And this time, he wouldn't let her slip through his grasp.
x-x-x-x-
Cold.
It wrapped around Sana like a shroud, seeping into her bones, twisting through her veins. Her body convulsed, wracked with an unbearable ache—like something inside her had been torn apart and crudely stitched back together.
Her lungs seized as she gasped for breath, the air thick with the scent of ash and blood. A slow, pulsing throb pounded in the back of her skull, dull and heavy.
She tried to move.
Pain lanced through her limbs, sharp as a dagger, sending her collapsing onto her hands and knees. She sucked in a breath and lifted her head, blinking against the haze in her vision.
The world around her was wrong.
She was in a forest, but she did not have a hint of familiarity with those trees. Twisted trees loomed overhead, their skeletal branches clawing at the night sky. The ground beneath her was nothing but scorched earth—a perfect circle of blackened dirt and charred remains.
A shiver crawled down her spine.
What happened here?
What happened to me?
Memories drifted at the edge of her mind, but they were like smoke—formless, impossible to grasp. Shadows of something she should remember.
Something she needed to remember.
Her fingers dug into the dirt. Her nails—no—claws—scraped against stone, and the realization hit her like a jolt of lightning.
She wasn't human.
Sana squeezed her eyes shut. Images flashed behind her eyelids, fleeting and fragmented. A hunt. A betrayal. A fire devouring her flesh.
A name whispered through the darkness.
Sana.
Her name.
She was certain of it. But everything else—who she was, how she got here—was missing.
A sound broke the silence.
Low. Primal. A growl.
Sana's head snapped up, her heart hammering. The scent of pine and damp earth filled her nose, but beneath it was something else.
Something alive.
She pushed herself up, stumbling slightly as she tested her limbs. She felt strange—stronger than she should be, her movements too fluid, her muscles tensed like they were waiting for a fight.
The snap of a branch sent her spinning around.
A figure emerged from the darkness.
Tall. Broad-shouldered. Dangerous.
The man moved with the kind of lethal grace that sent every instinct in her body into chaos—warning and recognition colliding at once. He was dressed in dark, form-fitting clothes, his black hair slightly disheveled, like he'd been running.
But it was his eyes that held her still.
Gold.
Not the warm amber of sunlight, but something darker—sharper. Like a wolf in the seconds before it strikes.
A hunter's eyes.
Sana's pulse pounded.
Something about him—his scent, his presence—was familiar.
He stopped a few feet away, his gaze raking over her. His nostrils flared slightly as he inhaled. His expression darkened.
"What the hell are you?" he muttered.
Sana swallowed hard. Her voice was hoarse when she finally spoke.
"I… don't know."
The words tasted bitter. Wrong. But she couldn't give him an answer when she didn't have one herself.
The man exhaled sharply, raking a hand through his hair, as if she'd just confirmed his worst suspicion. "Shit."
The wind shifted.
Sana felt it before she heard it.
The air grew thick with something unseen but unmistakable. The scent of fur. The crackling tension of something hungry and waiting.
More wolves.
Closing in fast.
Sana turned sharply, her muscles coiling. She didn't know why, but she could sense them—hear the faint rustling of paws on earth, feel their predatory focus settle on her like a snare tightening around prey.
They were hunting her.
And she had just run out of time.