Darkness tasted like metal and moonlight. My body felt too small for whatever had clawed its way out of me. I didn’t remember standing. I didn’t remember falling. Only the scream, the one that didn’t belong to me, yet tore from my soul anyway.

Then light came.

Heat from the high sun bled across my face, forcing my eyes open. I blinked, lashes trembling against the burn.

The room was unfamiliar. The bed beneath me wasn’t mine. Nothing smelled like home.

“Where am I? Why am I in a strange room?” My thoughts scattered as my senses sharpened. I pushed myself upright, only to collapse back onto the mattress.

My legs were weak. My head throbbed, but strangely, it didn’t ache the way it usually does.

I couldn’t bring myself to think about the night before, and worse, I didn’t care to.

Was Thorne taken? All I remembered was the scream, the heat, the feeling that I was going to burst apart. Then nothing.

“Mittcheww…” I hissed under my breath at the memory.

“I wish I could just run back home.” The words slipped out before I could swallow them.

I stood again. this time forcing all my strength into my legs.

Hair disheveled, clothes wrinkled, I staggered into the hallway. The farther I walked, the better I felt.

But everything around me felt wrong. Too quiet. Too empty, no guards, no servants. And I was in the east wing, somewhere no she-wolf should ever be.

I moved quickly, heading toward the main entrance. Just as I reached the junction between the two corridors…

… I froze.

Or rather, something froze me.

A full battleground sprawled outside the mansion.

I ducked behind a pillar, but it was too late, eyes had already found me.

Harry was the first to move, of course. He rushed over, pulling me gently from behind the column and placing himself between me and the crowd.

“What are you doing here? You should be resting. You can’t just… ”

His eyes said everything. My being here was a problem.

“I’m fine, Harry. Why do you look like that? What’s going on?” My voice was a whisper, but it still shook. Too many eyes were fixed on me.

“A lot,” he murmured, hand settling on my shoulder. “Last night drew attention. And you’re the center of it.”

Maybe because it was Harry saying it, I didn’t feel the weight of his words. Not yet.

“Just stay behind me,” he muttered before turning to face the troops.

“I don’t need a seer to tell me that she's the one we came for.” A large, royally dressed wolf stepped forward, voice dripping arrogance. “I can’t even smell her from here with my heightened senses. That’s… interesting.”

“You won’t take another step into my mansion.” Killian’s voice cut through the air like a blade. “You weren’t invited. You’re not welcome. Unless you came for trouble.”

“We’re here under the Alpha’s command, not your permission,” the man shot back. “Hand over Lord Thorne and the little beast, or we take them by force and you know what that means.”

Everything happened fast.

Killian’s guards closed in. The Alpha’s troops, larger, stronger, armed, shifted their footing. One wrong word would light the fuse.

I knew Killian’s side would lose. They were nothing in number compared to the official army. This would end in blood.

But before a single claw was raised…

Something else rose first.

A sound.

A roar.

Not just heard.. I felt it.

It ripped through the air like the echo of last night. The pain, the voice, the tremor beneath our feet. I knew it. I knew it too well.

“Arrrrhhhh…!”

The cry shattered the standoff.

Fear bled across the battlefield. Every gaze snapped to me, like I’d summoned it.

“Thorne,” Killian growled.

The tension dropped instantly. Troops still, even the commander hesitated.

“What is that?” I whispered, barely moving my lips. Harry heard it anyway.

“Happens once every thirteen moons,” he said absently. “It’s the curse.”

He didn’t explain further. He just turned and headed back into the mansion.

I ran after him. Everyone followed.

Killian led us down to the underground cells. The closer we got, the hotter it became, blistering, but strangely comforting to me. Like my body knew this heat.

Killian didn’t hesitate. He barreled through the last gate like a man on borrowed time. Harry practically dragged me behind him until we reached the prison floor.

It was dark and empty; nothing but stone and iron-barred cells.

We followed the corridor to the end.

“This place is for punishment,” Harry whispered, as if reading my thoughts. “Most don’t come back the same.”

“Oh…” My voice felt hollow.

We still hadn’t heard anything. Silence walked with us, until the last corner.

Then we heard it.

Shallow breathing, weak whimpers, pain choking the air.

Killian unlocked the second cell without a word.

There were only four cells, I think; but in the dark, it was impossible to know.

Thorne lay at the back of one, sprawled on the ground like a beaten wolf. He looked small. Broken. His breaths were labored, his skin burning like a furnace.

He tried to get up when he heard us, but his body failed, and he fell again.

The heat coming off him could’ve melted iron.

“What’s happening to him?” I asked, peeking from behind Harry.

“It’s never been this bad,” he muttered. “It’s like something new got added to the pain.”

Killian stepped forward, voice cold. “If you promise to stop killing, I’ll let you leave these walls.”

Thorne exhaled shakily. “I… would rather turn to dust… than obey you.”

“Then I’ll enjoy watching,” Killian spat.

As if his voice triggered it..

“ARRRHHHH!”

The scream tore through the basement, forcing all of us to cover our ears. The sound didn’t just echo, it burned.

I knew this pain.

It was the cry of dying.

He was slipping.

But then, his head snapped toward me.

His eyes, wild, fevered, ancient, locked onto mine.

And through gritted teeth, with blood on his lips, he rasped my name.

But not the one I knew.

Not Elysian.

Something older.

Something lost.

Something that didn’t belong to this world.

And every wolf in that cell… heard it.