The wind howled through the dense pines of Blackwood Forest, carrying with it the scent of rain and something wild, something alive. Lliora Hart shivered beneath her thick woolen cloak, her lantern casting flickering shadows as she hurried along the muddy path. She shouldn’t have stayed so late at the village apothecary, but old Mrs. Caldwell had needed a remedy for her aching joints, and Lliora  couldn’t refuse.  

A low growl rumbled through the trees.  

Lliora  froze. Her pulse pounded in her ears as she slowly turned, her lantern illuminating two glowing amber eyes in the darkness. A massive wolf stood at the edge of the path, its fur dark as midnight, its muscles coiled tight. But it wasn’t just a wolf, there was something more in its gaze, something intelligent.  

Before she could scream, another figure emerged from the shadows, a man. Tall, broad-shouldered, with unruly dark hair and piercing golden eyes that matched the wolf’s. He placed a hand on the beast’s head, murmuring something in a language Lliora  didn’t understand, and the wolf melted back into the forest.  

“You shouldn’t be out here,” the man said, his voice rough but not unkind. “Not when the moon is full.”  

Lliora  swallowed hard. “Who, what are you?”  

The man hesitated, then stepped closer, the moonlight revealing sharp, angular features and a scar running down his jaw. “My name is Bardan. And you’re in danger if you stay.”  

Before she could respond, a chorus of snarls erupted from the trees. More wolves, no, werewolves emerged, their eyes gleaming with hunger. Bardan snarled, his body tensing as if preparing to shift.  

“Run,” he commanded.  

But Lliora  didn’t run. Instead, she reached into her satchel and flung a handful of powdered silver at the advancing beasts. They yelped in pain, recoiling. Bardan stared at her in shock.  

“You’re… prepared?”  

Lliora  lifted her chin. “I’m the village healer. I know what lurks in these woods.”  

Bardan’s lips curled into a reluctant smile. “Then maybe you’re exactly who I’ve been looking for.”  

As the howls of the pack filled the night, Bardan grabbed her hand, and together, they fled deeper into the forest toward a destiny neither of them could escape.  

---  

The forest blurred around Lliora  as Bardan pulled her through the undergrowth, his grip firm and urgent. Behind them, snarls and snapping branches signaled the pack’s pursuit. Her lungs burned, but she forced herself to keep pace, her healer’s instincts warring with raw fear.  

What have I gotten myself into?  

Bardan suddenly yanked her behind a massive oak, pressing a finger to his lips. His golden eyes glowed faintly in the dark, his breath steady despite their sprint. Lliora ’s own came in ragged gasps.  

A low, guttural voice echoed through the trees. “Bardan… traitor.”  

Her blood turned to ice. The werewolves could speak.  

Bardan’s jaw tightened. He leaned in, his lips brushing her ear as he whispered, “They won’t stop. When I move, run north, follow the creek. There’s a cabin. Barricade yourself inside.”  

Lliora  grabbed his arm. “What about you?”  

His gaze flickered with something unreadable. Regret? Resolve? “I’ll hold them off.”  

Before she could argue, a monstrous howl split the night. Bardan shoved her forward just as a massive, russet-furred werewolf lunged from the shadows. Lliora  stumbled but didn’t fall, sprinting as Bardan’s body twisted mid-air, bones cracking as he shifted into his wolf form, a sleek, black beast with those same piercing amber eyes.  

The two wolves collided in a whirl of fangs and fury.  

Lliora  ran, her boots splashing through the icy creek. The cabin loomed ahead, its windows dark. She slammed the door shut behind her, barring it with a heavy wooden table. Her hands trembled as she lit a lantern, revealing shelves of herbs, weapons, and silver.  

A snarl rattled the door.  

Not Bardan.  

The wood splintered as claws tore through. Lliora  grabbed a silver dagger from the wall just as the door burst open. A hulking werewolf stalked inside, saliva dripping from its jaws. Its voice was a grotesque mockery of human speech. “Little healer… you smell like fear.”  

She raised the blade. “And you smell like rotting meat.”  

It lunged. Lliora  sidestepped, slashing its shoulder. The beast howled, recoiling as silver smoke hissed from its wound. But it wasn’t enough. It swiped at her, claws ripping through her cloak. She fell back, hitting the floor.

A black blur crashed through the window.  

Bardan.  

He tore into the other wolf with savage precision, his fangs finding its throat. The fight was brutal, short. When it ended, Bardan stood over the corpse, his fur matted with blood. Slowly, he shifted back into human form, his body streaked with wounds.  

Lliora  scrambled to her feet. “You’re hurt”  

“No time.” He grabbed her wrist. “They’ll keep coming. The alpha wants you dead.”  

“Why?”  

His grip tightened. “Because you’re the only one who can break the curse.”  

Outside, the howls began again, closer this time. Dozens of them.  

Bardan’s eyes met hers, desperate. “Trust me.”  

Lliora  exhaled. “Then we fight.”  

She tossed him a second silver dagger. Together, they stepped into the moonlit night, where the pack waited and the real battle began.

The clearing was bathed in cold moonlight, the air thick with the scent of pine and wet earth. Around them, glowing eyes emerged from the shadows, dozens of werewolves. Their fur bristling, fangs bared. At the center stood a monstrous beast with a scarred muzzle and eyes like molten gold. The Alpha.  

Liora’s fingers tightened around her silver dagger. Bardan stood beside her, his body tense, his own blade gleaming.  

“You bring a human into our territory, Bardan,” the Alpha growled, his voice a deep, guttural rasp. “And not just any human. The witch’s descendant.”  

Liora stiffened. “What?”  

Bardan shot her a quick glance. “Later.” He stepped forward, his voice steady. “She doesn’t even know what she is, Lorcan. Let her go.”  

Lorcan let out a bark of laughter. “You’ve grown soft. The curse festers in our blood because of her bloodline. And you want me to just… let her leave?” His massive paws dug into the earth. “No. She dies tonight.”  

A snarl ripped from Bardan’s throat. “Then you’ll have to go through me.”  

The Alpha’s lips curled. “Gladly.”  

With a roar, Lorcan charged.  

Bardan shifted mid-leap, his bones cracking as his wolf form erupted in a blur of black fur and fury. The two beasts collided, fangs snapping, claws tearing. The other wolves circled, snarling, but none dared interfere. This was a challenge for dominance, and pack law dictated they let it play out.  

Liora’s heart hammered. She had to help. But how?  

Then she remembered the words Bardan had spoken earlier. "You’re the only one who can break the curse."  

Her grandmother’s old journal filled with forgotten remedies, whispered legends. There had been a page about werewolves, about a spell woven into their bloodline. A curse of eternal hunger, passed down through generations. And the only way to break it…  

Blood of the witch, willingly given.  

“Bardan!” she shouted.  

He barely dodged Lorcan’s jaws, his flank bleeding. She didn’t have time to explain.  

Liora slashed her palm with the dagger, hissing at the sting. Then, before the pack could react, she sprinted toward the battling wolves.  

“Liora, NO!” Bardan’s voice was raw with panic.  

Lorcan turned, his eyes widening as she lunged not with the blade, but with her bleeding hand. She pressed her palm against his muzzle.  

The effect was instant.  

The Alpha froze. A ripple went through his fur, his body shuddering. The other wolves whimpered, some collapsing as if struck.  

Then, Lorcan… changed.  

His massive form twisted, shrinking, reshaping—until a man stood where the beast had been. Tall, broad, with the same golden eyes but now filled with shock.  

“What…?” His voice was human. “What did you do?”  

Liora staggered back, her vision swimming. “I broke the curse.”  

Bardan was at her side in an instant, his arms wrapping around her as her knees gave out. His warmth seeped into her, his breath ragged against her hair. “You insane, reckless, brilliant woman,” he muttered.  

Lorcan stared at his hands, then at the pack, now shifting, one by one, back into their human forms. Some wept. Others dropped to their knees in disbelief.  

The curse was broken.  

But as Liora’s vision darkened at the edges, she realized the danger wasn’t over.  

Because Lorcan’s gaze locked onto hers. Not with gratitude, but with something far more dangerous.  

Hunger.  

--- 

The pack’s celebration lasted all night.  

Bonfires roared in the clearing, their glow painting the faces of werewolves, former werewolves. Now laughing, weeping, embracing as humans for the first time in decades. Wine and roasted game were passed around, and more than one person knelt before Liora, pressing her hand to their forehead in reverence.  

"The curse-breaker," they whispered.  

But their gratitude was a double-edged blade.  

Bardan watched from the shadows, his arms crossed, his golden eyes tracking every movement. He hadn’t shifted since the fight. He couldn’t. Not anymore. The realization sat heavy in his chest.  

What am I now?  

A hand touched his shoulder. Liora.  

Her palm was bandaged, her face pale with exhaustion, but her eyes were bright. "You’re brooding," she murmured.  

He caught her wrist, his thumb brushing the pulse point. "You shouldn’t have done that. Lorcan could’ve killed you."  

"And you were going to die for me instead?" She stepped closer, her skirts brushing his legs. "I think I like my way better."  

His breath hitched. The firelight caught in her hair, turning it to liquid copper. He wanted to tangle his fingers in it, to pull her against him and…

A growl cut through the night.  

Lorcan.  

The Alpha stood at the edge of the clearing, his gaze locked on them. Not with rage. With something far more unsettling. Possession.  

"Liora," he called, his voice rough from disuse. "Come. Share my table."  

A command, not a request.  

Bardan’s fingers tightened. "Don’t."  

But Liora squeezed his hand. "If I refuse, he’ll see it as an insult. And we need him to trust us."  

She was right. Lorcan’s pack still outnumbered them twenty to one. But the thought of her near him made Bardan’s blood boil.  

As she walked away, Lorcan’s lips curled in a smirk. Mine, it said.  

---  

The Alpha’s table was laden with food, but Liora had no appetite. Lorcan lounged in his carved chair like a king, his gaze raking over her.  

"You’re not what I expected," he mused. "A little thing like you, holding so much power."  

Liora sipped her wine. "And you’re exactly what I expected. Arrogant."  

A beat of silence. Then Lorcan laughed, deep and rich. "I like you." His fingers traced the rim of his goblet. "Stay with us. Be our healer. Our… honored guest."  

A shiver ran down her spine. "I have a home."  

"Do you?" He leaned in. "Or does Bardan?"  

Her breath caught.  

Lorcan smirked. "Ah. So he hasn’t told you."  

---  

Bardan found her by the river later, her arms wrapped around herself.  

"What did he say to you?" he demanded.  

Liora turned. Moonlight silvered her tears. "That you were banished. That your family was killed by hunters after you led them to the pack."  

Bardan flinched like she’d struck him.  

"It’s not true," she whispered.  

He couldn’t lie to her. Not now. "It’s… complicated."  

The words spilled out. The hunters had cornered his younger sister. He’d tried to save her, but the pack saw it as betrayal. Lorcan exiled him, left him to roam as a lone wolf for years.  

Liora’s hand flew to her mouth. "Bardan"  

A twig snapped.  

They whirled. Lorcan emerged from the trees, his eyes glinting. "Touching. But pack law is clear. A traitor’s blood pays the debt."  

Behind him, five former wolves stepped forward. Armed with silver.  

Bardan bared his teeth. "Run, Liora."  

But she stood her ground, her voice trembling with fury. "You owe him. You all do. If it weren’t for him, I’d never have broken the curse!"  

Lorcan’s smile turned feral. "Then let’s test that theory."  

He lunged.

Lorcan’s claws stopped just shy of Bardan’s throat.  

Liora’s voice cut through the tension like a blade. “If you kill him, you’ll never understand your own power.”  

The Alpha froze. Slowly, he turned his head, his golden eyes narrowing. “Explain.”  

She stepped forward, her pulse wild but her voice steady. The lie came to her in a flash of desperation. “The curse is broken, but the magic isn’t gone. It’s in your blood now. And without me, you’ll never control it.”  

Bardan’s gaze snapped to her, a silent warning. She ignored it.  

Lorcan tilted his head, considering. Then, with a flick of his wrist, he signaled his men to lower their weapons. “Fine. Then here are my terms.” He pointed at Bardan. “He leaves. Tonight. Never returns.” His finger shifted to Liora. “And you stay. As my guest.”  

The word guest slithered between them, heavy with unspoken meaning.  

Bardan snarled. “No.”  

Liora didn’t look at him. “Yes.”  

---

They were given until dawn.  

Bardan paced the length of the abandoned hunter’s cabin where they’d taken shelter, his body coiled with barely restrained fury. “You can’t do this.”  

Liora stuffed supplies into a satchel for him. Her hands trembling, but her resolve is iron. “I already did.”  

He grabbed her wrist, spinning her to face him. “Lorcan doesn’t just want your magic. He wants you.” His voice dropped, rough with emotion. “And you’re just going to let him?”  

Her breath hitched. “I’m buying you time. Go to the village. Find my grandmother’s journals. There has to be more about the curse. Something we can use against him.”  

Bardan’s grip tightened. “And what happens when he realizes you’re stalling?”  

A shadow passed over her face. “Then I’ll handle it.”  

He exhaled sharply, his forehead pressing against hers. “This is a mistake.”  

She closed her eyes. “Then it’s mine to make.”  

When the first light of dawn crept through the trees, Bardan was gone.  

---

Lorcan waited for her at the edge of the camp, his arms crossed, his gaze predatory. “Ready?”  

Liora lifted her chin. “I’m not yours.”  

He smirked. “Aren’t you?”  

Before she could react, he gripped the back of her neck, his fingers tangling in her hair as he pulled her close. His voice was a whisper against her lips. “You think I don’t know what you’re doing? Playing both sides?”  

Her pulse spiked. “I don’t know what you mean.”  

Lorcan chuckled darkly. “Liar.” Then his mouth crashed onto hers.  

It wasn’t a kiss. It was a claim.  

She shoved him back, her lips burning. “Don’t.”  

The Alpha’s eyes glowed. “Too late.” He wiped his thumb across his bottom lip, smirking at the faint smear of blood from where he’d bitten her. “Now you’re part of the pack. Whether you like it or not.”  

---

That night, Liora dreamed of wolves.  

Not the beasts she knew, but something older. Something with too many teeth and eyes like blackened stars. It spoke in a voice that wasn’t a voice.  

“You woke us.”  

She jolted upright and found Lorcan standing over her bed, his face pale.  

“You heard it too,” he breathed.  

Outside, the forest had gone silent. No crickets. No wind.  

Only the sound of something breathing beneath the earth.  

—

The silence in the forest was worse than any snarl.  

Liora stood beside Lorcan at the edge of the camp, her skin prickling with unease. The air was thick, heavy like the moment before lightning strikes.  

"What was that thing in my dream?" she whispered.  

Lorcan’s jaw clenched. "Something that should have stayed buried." His fingers brushed against hers, a fleeting touch that burned. "You’re not safe here."  

A bitter laugh escaped her. "Now you care?"  

Before he could answer, a howl tore through the night. One she knew instantly.  

Bardan.  

He emerged from the trees like a shadow given form, his body streaked with blood and dirt, his golden eyes blazing. A silver dagger glinted in his grip, its tip pointed at Lorcan’s heart.  

"You lied," Bardan snarled. "The curse wasn’t just about the pack. It was a cage. And she just set whatever was inside free."  

---

Lorcan bared his teeth. "And whose fault is that? You brought her here!"  

Bardan lunged.  

The two men collided like storms, fists and fangs and fury. Liora shouted for them to stop, but neither listened. The pack circled them, snarling, unsure who to attack. Their Alpha or the traitor who’d returned.  

A deafening crack split the air.  

The earth trembled.  

Then… screams.  

From the forest, things slithered between the trees. Not wolves. Not men. Shapes of smoke and shadow, with eyes that dripped like tar and mouths too wide for human faces.  

The Ancient Ones.  

---

Bardan grabbed Liora’s arm, yanking her behind him. "Run. Now."  

Lorcan seized her other wrist. "She stays with me!"  

Liora wrenched free, her voice raw. "Enough!" She turned toward the approaching horrors, her blood singing with a power she didn’t understand. "You want to fight? Then fight them. Or we all die tonight."  

For a heartbeat, no one moved.  

Then Lorcan let out a vicious laugh. "Fine. But when this is over, witch." His gaze locked onto hers, hungry. "You’re mine."  

Bardan snarled, but there was no time to argue. The shadows were upon them.  

---

Silver flashed. Claws tore. Liora fought with dagger and teeth, her body moving on instinct. Bardan fought at her back, Lorcan at her side. Three unlikely allies against an ancient evil.  

One of the creatures lunged for her. She dodged, but not fast enough. It's talons grazed her ribs, burning like ice.  

Bardan’s roar shook the trees as he ripped the thing apart.  

Lorcan dragged her upright, his grip bruising. "Use your magic!"  

"I don’t know how!"  

"Then learn!" He pressed his forehead to hers, his voice a command. "Or we all die here."  

Something inside her clicked.  

The world went white.  

—

When the light faded, the creatures were gone.  

So was half the forest.  

Liora collapsed, her vision swimming. Strong arms caught her, Bardan’s. His heartbeat thundered against her ear as he cradled her close.  

"What the hell was that?" he rasped.  

Lorcan stared at her like she was the moon itself. "Power," he breathed. "Real power."  

Bardan’s grip tightened. "Stay away from her."  

The Alpha smirked. "Make me."  

And as the first rays of dawn painted the sky, Liora realized one terrible truth:  

This war was far from over.