The fire didn't last long.
One blink and it was gone, leaving only scorched earth and silence behind. The rogue Alpha had vanished into the trees, yowling like it had been branded by the sun itself. The other wolves backed off too—dragging their wounded and vanishing into the night like smoke.
But Lina didn't feel victorious.
She felt hollow. Buzzing. Like her insides had been turned into a tuning fork that wouldn't stop humming.
Rafe hadn't moved. Still between her and the shadows, chest rising and falling in sharp, uneven bursts. His skin was slick with blood—some of it his, some of it not. His eyes, still golden, flicked from her hands to her face.
"You're one of us," he said. Not like a question. It hit him like a slap—one of those truths you keep shoving to the back of your head, hoping it'll just disappear if you ignore it hard enough.
She tried to speak. Nothing. Zilch. Her chest buzzed—something hot and alive, but not anger, not terror. Just raw, buzzing energy.
She managed to croak, "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
Rafe wouldn't meet her eyes. Typical. "Means we're not in Kansas anymore," he muttered, voice rough. "Everything's flipped."
No way were they heading back to the village. Rafe just veered off, dragging her deeper into the woods, weaving through roots and damp, mossy rocks that caught the weird, reddish moonlight like they were lit from inside. Eventually, they stumbled into a clearing ringed with ancient stones, lanterns bobbing in the dark like fireflies that forgot bedtime. Not modern ones—these burned with pale, blue witchlight. The air felt heavier here. Sacred.
Lina crossed her arms. "Start talking."
Rafe sat on a stone, wiped blood from his brow, and exhaled like it hurt. "I'm a werewolf. I figured you'd guessed by now."
She gave him a look. "The giant wolf thing gave it away."
"I'm also next in line to lead the Flameborn pack. My father was Alpha before me. I'm supposed to inherit the role after the Rite."
"Cool," she said tightly. "And me? Why is this happening to me?"
Rafe hesitated. Then: "Because you're moon-marked."
The words just slammed into her stomach, sinking fast.
"I... what does that even mean?"
He grinned—way too casual for this. "It means the moon picked you, genius."
"Not just as one of us, but as something rare. Something… ancient. There's a legend among our kind—about marks that bind fates. Soul-bonds. Power conduits. It hasn't happened in centuries."
She took a shaky step back. "You're saying I'm linked to you?"
He nodded once, eyes unreadable. "I didn't know until the night your mark appeared. I felt it. Like lightning."
Her fingers hovered over her shoulder, where the mark still pulsed faintly beneath her shirt. "So what, I'm just some mystical lightning rod for your wolf puberty?"
Rafe flinched. "It's more than that. You're tied to our world now. And that fire? That wasn't just magic. That was old magic. Flameborn magic."
"But I'm not one of you," Lina said. "I can't be."
"That's the thing," he murmured. "You're not supposed to exist."
Yeah, well, try telling my parents that, she almost said—but no time for snark. Her brain barely had a chance to process that little existential slap before something started shuffling over in the bushes. Out stepped a crew of folks who looked like they'd fought the Civil War and lost. Faces carved up with wrinkles, eyes sharp as broken glass, the kind of people who'd seen every disaster twice and lived to roll their eyes about it. Tall, cloaked, eyes ageless and grim. The one in front was an older woman with silver hair braided with bones and feathers. Her gaze locked onto Lina like she was some ancient prophecy come to life.
"She bears the fire," the elder said, voice like gravel and wind. "And yet… she carries the scent of the wild. Of blood. Of exile."
"What does that mean?" Lina asked.
The elder looked to Rafe, then back to her.
"She is moon-marked, yes. But the fire in her blood is not pure. This child," she said, pointing one gnarled finger straight at Lina, "is the daughter of a rogue."
Lina's breath left her body all at once.
Rafe stood. "That's not possible. Her mother—Selene—she was one of us."
The elder's eyes narrowed. "She was banished. For breaking the oath. For loving one who walked alone."
Lina's legs gave out. She sat hard on the cold earth, the truth slamming into her like a freight train.
She wasn't just part of their world.
She was born from its worst betrayal.
And now, every eye in the clearing was watching her like she might explode again.
Like maybe she would.