I woke to the smell of herbs and something that reminded me of starlight.

My eyes fluttered open to find myself lying on a soft bed covered in quilts that seemed to shimmer with their own light.

The room around me was unlike anything I'd ever seen. Stone walls curved impossibly high overhead, disappearing into shadows that moved on their own. Candles floated in mid-air, their flames dancing to music I couldn't hear.

This wasn't pack territory. This wasn't anywhere I recognized.

"Easy, child."

The same voice from the forest. I turned my head and saw her sitting in a chair beside the bed, silver hair catching the candlelight. Up close, she looked more human, but those eyes still held depths that made my stomach flutter.

"Where am I?" My voice came out as a croak.

"Safe." She stood and moved to a table covered in glass bottles and dried plants. Her movements were fluid, almost floating. "You're in my cottage, deep in the heart of the Whispering Woods. The pack won't find you here."

Memory came rushing back. The rejection ceremony. My humiliating flight into the woods. The lightning, the split tree, the violent shift that nearly tore me apart. And this woman appearing from nowhere, calling me home.

I sat up too quickly. The room spun, and nausea hit me like a wave.

"Careful. Your body went through trauma tonight. Both from the shift and from what happened at the pack house." She returned with a steaming mug that smelled of mint and something floral. "Drink this. It will help."

I took the cup with shaking hands. The liquid was warm and soothing, immediately settling my stomach and clearing my head.

"Who are you?"

She settled back into her chair, studying me with those impossible eyes. "My name is Imogen. I've been waiting a very long time to meet you, Charlotte Winters."

"How do you know my name?"

"I knew your parents."

The words hit me like ice water. I set the mug down, my hands trembling for entirely different reasons now.

"My parents are dead."

"Yes." Her voice was gentle but matter-of-fact. "They died protecting a secret. A secret about you."

"I don't understand." But even as I said it, pieces were starting to click together. The strange power I'd felt tonight. The way the ground had trembled at the pack house. The lightning that came from nowhere.

Imogen leaned forward, her expression serious. "Tell me, child, have you ever wondered why your family always seemed different? Why the other pack members treated you with a mixture of respect and wariness? Why your parents lived slightly apart from the main pack grounds?"

I had wondered. Growing up, I'd noticed how conversations stopped when I entered a room. How some of the older wolves would watch me with calculating eyes. How my parents had always been careful about what they told me about our family history.

"They were hiding something," I whispered.

"They were hiding someone. You."

Imogen rose and moved to the fireplace, where flames danced in colors that had no names. "Your mother wasn't just a wolf, Charlotte. She carried the bloodline of an ancient witch family. Powerful magic that had been dormant for generations."

My heart hammered against my ribs. "That's impossible. Wolves and witches don't mix. Everyone knows that."

"Everyone knows what they've been told." Her smile was sad. "Magic and wolf nature are incompatible in most cases. The magic burns out the wolf, or the wolf spirit destroys the magic.

But rarely,very rarely,a child is born who can hold both. Who can be a bridge between two worlds."

She turned to look at me directly. "You are that child, Charlotte."

The mug slipped from my nerveless fingers, shattering against the stone floor. The pieces seemed to dissolve before they hit, leaving no trace behind.

"No." I shook my head. "No, that can't be right. I would have known. Someone would have told me."

"Your parents were protecting you. Witches with wolf blood are incredibly rare, and incredibly powerful. There are those who would kill to possess that power, and others who would kill to prevent it from existing."

Images flashed through my mind. My mother's green eyes, always so knowing. My father's protective stance whenever strangers came around.

The way they'd both insisted I keep certain abilities to myself,like my unusually keen senses or the way plants seemed to grow better when I was around.

"The pack knows, don't they?" I whispered. "That's why Henry rejected me. That's why everyone always looked at me like I was dangerous."

Imogen nodded slowly. "Alpha Thomas suspected. That’s why he allowed your parents to live a little apart from the pack center. But Henry… he doesn’t know.”

Why he never pushed for you to train with the other young wolves. He was buying time, hoping your witch blood would never manifest."

"But it did."

"Tonight, yes. The emotional trauma triggered it. Your magic is awake now, Charlotte, whether you want it or not."

I stared at my hands, remembering the way they'd tingled with power. The way the ground had responded to my pain, the lightning that had come at my call.

"What happens now?"

Imogen's expression grew grave. "Now you have a choice. I can teach you to control your magic, help you understand what you are.

But magic always comes with a price. Once you fully embrace it, there will be no going back. You'll never be just a wolf again."

"And if I refuse?"

"The magic will consume you. Without proper training, it will tear your wolf spirit apart, and likely take your sanity with it."

I thought of Henry, of the pack house, of the life I'd always imagined I would have. All of that was gone now, shattered as surely as if it had never existed.

"Some choice," I muttered.

"The hardest choices usually are." Imogen moved closer, her voice gentle. "I know this is overwhelming. Your world has been turned upside down in a single night.

But Charlotte, you have the potential to become something extraordinary. Something that could change the supernatural world."

"I don't want to change the world. I just want..." I stopped, realizing I didn't know what I wanted anymore.

"You want to belong somewhere," she finished. "You want to be accepted for who you are, not feared or pitied or rejected."

Tears pricked my eyes. "Yes."

"Then let me help you. Let me teach you to control this power. You don't have to decide everything tonight, but you can decide to survive. You can decide to fight."

I looked around the impossible cottage, with its floating candles and shifting shadows. This was magic. Real magic. And somehow, impossibly, it was part of me.

"If I stay, if I learn... what does that make me?"

A smile curved Imogen’s lips, reaching her eyes. "It makes you free.”

***

Miles away, in the imposing stone towers of the Nightfang pack house, Alpha Henry stood at his office window, staring into the dark expanse of the Whispering Woods.

A restless guilt gnawed at him, though his pride refused to yield. The rejection had been necessary,at least, that’s what he told himself.

Charlotte was only an orphan. How could she possibly be his mate, much less the Luna of the Nightfang Pack?

So why did his wolf pace restlessly, whining for her scent?

A knock at his door interrupted his brooding. "Enter."

Beta Lucien stepped inside, his usual calm demeanor cracked with obvious concern.

"We have a problem, Alpha."