Aidan had left her for just ten minutes—long enough to check the perimeter, to refresh the wards etched into the trees with ash and blood. When he returned to the cabin, the door was hanging from one hinge.
Everything inside had been torn apart.
"Eva!" he bellowed, his voice echoing into the pines.
But there was no answer.
His wolf rose unbidden, fur sprouting, bones cracking, vision sharpening to shades of silver and red. He scented the air—blood, not hers. Rogues. Three of them. And a fourth scent, bitter and old.
Garrick.
Aidan sprinted through the woods, the trail hot and thick, each stride devouring yards of earth. He found a clearing torn by claws and broken trees. At its center: a patch of her hair, torn free. Blood smeared the leaves. A discarded locket.
And the trail led east.
Toward the Dead Marshes.
He ran faster than he ever had.
---
Eva woke chained to stone.
Her wrists burned with iron, the silver woven into it biting her skin like acid. She hissed and pulled, but the shackles didn't give.
The cave stank of rot and wet earth. Flickering torches cast shadows on the jagged walls.
Garrick stood across from her, no longer fully wolf nor man. His form was shifting, unstable—black veins ran through his skin, and his eyes glowed with fevered light.
"You smell like him," he said, circling her. "Like his blood. His magic."
She spat. "And you reek of failure."
He backhanded her. Her cheek split open.
"I could kill you," he growled. "But it would be a waste. You're more than he knows. You could be the vessel."
Eva narrowed her eyes. "For what?"
Garrick grinned, a maw of jagged teeth. "The Moonfather's return."
She didn't know what that meant, but she felt the danger in it. Something dark and ancient trembled behind those words.
"You're insane," she whispered.
"No. I'm ascended."
He placed a clawed hand on her chest. She gasped as something cold entered her—an unnatural energy, oily and wrong.
"I'll rip your soul open," he said. "And make a door for him to walk through."
---
Aidan found the marsh by nightfall.
It was death incarnate—black water, twisted trees, the air choked with sulfur and spirits. Wolves feared this place. Even the wind refused to howl here.
But Aidan pushed on, following the scent. His bond to Eva burned in his chest, tugging him forward. He'd almost died for her once. He'd do worse now.
He reached the cave and shifted back to human form. The pain was sharp, his body still healing from the last fight. But he didn't care.
He crept through the shadows.
Inside, Garrick stood before an altar, muttering in a forgotten tongue. Eva lay slumped nearby, her pulse weak. The ritual had begun. She was pale, lips blue. Dying.
Aidan saw red.
He roared and charged.
Garrick turned, eyes wild. "Too late!"
They clashed with earth-shaking force.
Aidan fought like a demon—driven by rage, love, and fear. Garrick matched him blow for blow, his corrupted strength nearly unstoppable.
But Aidan fought smart.
He lured Garrick into a narrow tunnel, where the Alpha's bulk became a weakness. He struck with blade and fang, slicing tendons, breaking ribs. Blood poured from them both.
In the end, it was the locket—Eva's locket, still in his pocket—that saved him.
He stabbed it into Garrick's chest, the silver searing through the corruption.
Garrick screamed as light erupted from within him. The shadows fled his eyes.
Then he fell, lifeless.
Aidan collapsed beside Eva. She was barely breathing.
"No," he whispered, pressing his lips to her forehead. "Not now. Not like this."
He held her, cradling her face.
Her pulse flickered. Then faded.
And something in him broke.
He bit his wrist.
"Forgive me," he said, and pressed it to her lips.
His blood—Alpha blood, ancient and wild—flowed into her mouth. Her body convulsed.
The change began.
Bones snapped. Her skin burned with fever. She screamed, even unconscious.
Aidan held her through it all.
Dawn broke.
Eva gasped, eyes shooting open—no longer brown, but gold.
She had survived.
She was one of them now.
And the bond between them had deepened—sealed in blood, fire, and love.
---
They didn't leave the cave for three days. Eva's transformation came in waves, her body wracked with pain, rage, hunger—and clarity. She dreamt in flashes: moonlit hunts, ancestral memories, Aidan's scent burned into her blood.
When she spoke again, it was with a voice raw but certain. "I remember you… even before the cabin."
Aidan blinked. "How?"
She touched his hand. "The bond you created when you saved me. It woke something in me. I see your memories. And mine. From before this life."
Aidan stared at her, eyes wide. "You're not just a wolf now. You're…"
"Awakened," she finished. "Whatever Garrick wanted to unlock in me—it's here."
The moment turned quiet. Aidan leaned forward, resting his forehead against hers. "I thought I lost you."
"You didn't. You found me. Again."
And with that, they stepped into a new future.
Together.