THE WAKING HUNGER
Skylar woke in sweat.
Her shirt clung to her like she'd run five miles in her sleep. Her sheets were twisted. Her pulse thundered so hard she half-expected the walls to tremble.
The dream was different this time.
There was no forest. No moon.
Just heat. Fire, rising behind her ribs like something ancient trying to claw its way out.
She sat up and grabbed her water bottle, but the metal was bent.
She stared.
Bent like someone had crushed it with their bare hand.
Skylar blinked and dropped it on the floor. It clattered loud and unnatural.
She didn't remember doing it.
SOMETHING UNDER THE SKIN
The mirror told her what her body wouldn't.
The mark was no longer just a symbol. It had grown.
Now, a network of faint lines trailed from her ribs to her shoulder—intricate and geometric like a tattoo made by instinct, not choice. Like her body was being rewritten in symbols older than language.
She pressed her fingers to it. It didn't hurt.
It thrummed.
She could feel something—a second heartbeat—under her palm.
Not fear.
Not pain.
Power.
Raw, unshaped, but undeniably hers.
She pulled her hoodie over it and didn't go to class.
She didn't trust herself not to explode.
THE LIBRARY WHISPERS
Avery sat in the back corner of the library, books stacked like walls around her. She hadn't slept much either.
Every time she closed her eyes, she saw the photo.
The two women. Her and Skylar—but not them. Not now. From another life? Another time?
She flipped through old campus records. History books. Local legends.
She found almost nothing—until a tattered journal caught her eye. Misplaced in a reference section that didn't match.
It wasn't from the university.
It was handwritten.
Inside were entries dating back to the early 1900s. Pages of dreams, symbols, and drawings of wolves with human eyes.
One passage made her pause:
"The blood awakens when the mirror is found. But if they bond before the Change… death follows."
She read it again.
Then again.
Avery's hands shook.
PULSEPOINTS
Skylar couldn't sit still.
Everything in her body felt like it was buzzing. Her fingertips itched. Her legs twitched. Her mouth was dry, and her teeth ached like they wanted to change.
She walked to the field behind the athletic complex. It was late. Past 2 a.m.
The stars were painfully bright.
The wind smelled like something was coming.
Skylar dropped to her knees in the grass, panting, heart hammering against her ribs like it was trying to escape.
Then it happened.
The air thickened.
The ground moved. Not violently, but like it was… reacting to her.
She looked at her hands.
Her nails had lengthened. Sharpened.
Not human.
Skylar screamed.
THE CALL
Avery woke up gasping.
She didn't know why—until she realized she was already halfway out the door. Phone in hand. Jacket half on.
She didn't even remember grabbing it.
Only one thought pulsed through her skull:
Skylar.
She found her behind the field, curled up near the tree line, body shaking, nails bloodied from where she'd clawed the ground.
"Avery," Skylar whispered when she saw her.
Avery knelt, not scared, not thinking. She just held her.
Skylar trembled like an animal learning its shape.
"I couldn't stop it," she choked. "Something's changing inside me."
Avery placed a hand on her back. "Let it."
Skylar looked up, eyes glinting gold.
"I'm scared I'll hurt you."
"You won't," Avery said. "Because you already had the chance."
BLOODLINES
Back in Avery's dorm, they sat on the floor in silence, lit only by the string lights above the window. Soft warmth, and the sound of both of them breathing.
Avery finally spoke. "You're not crazy."
Skylar gave a weak laugh. "Define 'crazy.'"
Avery held up the journal. "This was written over a hundred years ago. And it talks about you. About both of us."
Skylar leaned forward, scanning it.
As she touched the page, a flicker of light ran beneath her fingertips.
Words that had been faded suddenly grew clear.
"What the hell…"
Avery's mouth fell open.
Skylar's voice was hoarse. "I think I've been here before."
Avery's heart dropped.
"So have I."
THE MEMORY
Later that night, as Skylar lay on Avery's bed—shirtless, exhausted—Avery watched her.
Her muscles twitched beneath her skin like something inside was trying to break free.
Skylar reached for her hand.
Their fingers touched—
And Avery saw it.
Not a dream.
A memory.
Running through the woods, Skylar ahead of her, laughing. They were both younger. Wilder. Dressed in clothes that didn't belong to this century. They reached a clearing with a fire pit. Skylar turned and called her name—
Not "Avery."
"Evra."
Avery gasped and yanked her hand away.
Skylar sat up. "What?"
"I think I remember us."
Skylar blinked.
Avery whispered, "We've done this before."
THE NAME THAT DOESN'T BELONG
"Evra…"
The name lingered between them like smoke, curling into every corner of Avery's room. Familiar. Sacred. Wrong.
Avery sat on the edge of the bed, trembling.
Skylar rubbed the mark on her ribs like it could answer questions her voice couldn't form. "You said that name like you've heard it before."
"I have," Avery said. "Not in this life."
Silence.
Skylar leaned forward, brows furrowed. "You believe that? Reincarnation? Old souls?"
Avery looked away. "I believe… that this doesn't feel new. And that scares the hell out of me."
Skylar's voice was hoarse. "Because it means we're more than just two girls who ran into each other at Carmine's."
"It means we've already lost each other before," Avery whispered. "And maybe this is our second chance."
Skylar looked up slowly.
"That sounds like a love story."
"Or a tragedy," Avery said.
Neither of them corrected her.
THE SCRATCHES
Skylar hadn't told Avery about the claws.
She kept the hoodie sleeves pulled down, even though the fabric clung to her sticky skin.
But under the cuffs, her hands were raw.
Scratched. Deep crescents where her nails had grown longer and she hadn't realized it until blood stained the bedsheets.
She had no memory of the moment it happened.
All she remembered was pressure.
Like something inside her had wanted out. Not just a scream. Not just heat.
An instinct.
A pull.
Hunger.
She stared at her palms now in the bathroom, under the fluorescent dorm light, fingers trembling.
"What are you?" she whispered to the mirror. "What am I becoming?"
The mirror didn't answer.
But her eyes flashed gold again.
THE STUDENT WHO DIED
Avery was halfway to her poetry class when the alert came through the campus app.
STUDENT INCIDENT – DO NOT APPROACH FOREST TRAIL
A student was found injured near the northwest treeline at 5:23 a.m. Please avoid all wooded areas until further notice. Campus security will update as more information becomes available.
At first, it was just a wave of curiosity buzzing through the student body.
But by noon, the whisper had changed from "injured" to "dead."
Skylar found Avery in the quad. She was pacing with her phone clutched like a weapon.
"You think it was an animal?" Skylar asked carefully.
"I think it's connected," Avery said.
Skylar flinched. "You think it was me."
"I don't know what I think. I just know that this happened after last night. After your change."
Skylar stepped back, face hardening. "So that's what this is now?"
"No—Sky, I'm not accusing you." Avery reached out, softened. "I'm scared for you, not of you."
Skylar looked at her for a long, quiet second.
Then walked away.
THE LORE KEEPER
Avery returned to the library that night, long after curfew. She didn't use the front door.
She used the back key.
It wasn't hers — it had been slid under her door with no note. Just a single card:
Trust your blood.
Inside, the archive room was colder than usual. Like something had been waiting for her.
Books that hadn't been moved in decades were stacked on the central table.
One was bound in leather. No title.
She opened it carefully.
Inside were hand-painted symbols. Drawings of creatures with glowing eyes. Dual-colored wolves. Clawed hands. Runes she'd seen glowing on Skylar's body.
At the bottom of one page:
"The protector is not born. She is remembered."
"The mirror is the key. The mirror is the threat."
And beneath that:
"When the stud turns wolf, the mirror must decide — love her, or bind her."
Avery sat down hard.
Her hands wouldn't stop shaking.
THE WOMAN RETURNS
Skylar didn't go to class the next day.
She found herself drawn back to the woods — not by logic, but by pull. Something old. Something hers.
She didn't even flinch when the silver-eyed woman stepped out from behind a tree.
"You've felt it now," the woman said softly. "The ache under your skin. The eyes that see in the dark. The hunger that isn't about food."
Skylar stepped forward. "You never told me what you are."
"I'm a Watcher," the woman said. "One of the few left who remembers."
"Remembers what?"
"The war. The first bond. The burning of your bloodline."
Skylar's breath caught. "Why me?"
"Because you were born with the mark. Because your soul chose to return."
She stepped closer, cupping Skylar's cheek. Not intimate. More reverent.
"You were the last protector. And you failed."
Skylar froze.
The woman whispered, "You died with her. And now you've returned to try again."
THE FIRE IN THE RAIN
That night, it rained.
A summer storm that soaked the campus in thunder and wind, students laughing under awnings or running barefoot in the downpour.
Avery walked without an umbrella, her pendant glowing warm against her chest.
Skylar found her outside the art building, both of them silent under the flickering porch light.
Neither spoke.
They just stood there, rain running down their necks, shirts clinging to skin.
Skylar finally stepped forward, lifted a hand—and this time, Avery didn't pull away.
Their hands locked.
Heat surged between them. So hot it steamed.
Skylar's lips hovered near Avery's. Their foreheads touched.
And then—
A vision.
A battlefield.
Flames.
Skylar—older—screaming Avery's name.
A wolf lunging.
And Avery—her eyes glowing silver—chanting words in a language Skylar had never heard.
Then nothing.
They both staggered back at once, breathless.
"Did you see it too?" Skylar whispered.
Avery nodded.
"I think I killed you," she said softly.
THE HEAT WITHIN
Skylar didn't sleep that night.
Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Avery—on fire, in the vision. Not burning from flames, but from something inside her. And Skylar was the cause.
She could feel it.
Like guilt.
Like prophecy.
She stood in her shower, water set to cold, trying to drown the heat rising beneath her skin. It didn't help. Her bones ached. Her jaw felt tight. Her spine burned like it was trying to realign itself.
She looked at her hands.
The veins pulsed beneath her skin, glowing faintly gold.
Her fingertips curled like claws again.
She bit down on a scream.
No one could see her like this.
Especially not Avery.
THE NIGHTSHADE RING
Avery couldn't stay in the dorm either.
She wandered to the same archive room, alone again, guided by instinct.
The ring was waiting for her this time.
Simple, black, carved with runes that shimmered when she touched it.
She didn't remember putting it on.
But the moment she did, her chest throbbed like her heart had found something it lost long ago.
The journal from earlier—its ink now clear—opened to a page that hadn't been there before.
"She is the breaker of chains, the binder of beasts."
"When the protector breaks, the mirror becomes the blade."
Avery read the final line twice:
"And if the mirror cannot love the beast, it must kill her."
Avery ripped the page out before she could stop herself.
THE FEVER TAKES HER
Skylar made it to Avery's room just before dawn, shivering despite the summer heat.
"I don't know where else to go," she whispered.
Avery didn't ask questions.
She let Skylar in, helped her onto the bed, and sat beside her as she trembled.
"Talk to me," Avery said.
Skylar gritted her teeth. "It's getting worse. My body… it doesn't feel like it's mine."
Avery brushed damp hair from Skylar's forehead. Her skin was hot—too hot.
"You're burning up."
Skylar's voice cracked. "It's like I'm being pulled apart. Like something is trying to come out through my skin."
Her back arched in pain. Her shoulder blades twitched violently.
Avery gasped.
Bone.
It was moving beneath Skylar's skin.
Like her body was rearranging from the inside.
And then—
She screamed.
Her eyes flashed entirely gold.
THE SHIFT BEGINS
Skylar's limbs seized.
Her fingers elongated—bone cracking as her joints shifted.
Avery backed up, heart pounding. This wasn't a vision. This was real. Right now. In her room.
Skylar was changing.
She dropped to the floor, panting, clawing at the hardwood with growing hands that were no longer fully human.
A low growl rumbled from her chest.
Not rage.
Pain.
Pure, feral pain.
Avery wanted to run. Every survival instinct in her screamed go.
But she didn't.
She knelt beside her.
Held Skylar's face between trembling hands.
"You're not a monster," she whispered. "You're not alone."
Skylar's golden eyes locked on hers. Wild. Desperate.
Avery leaned forward.
And kissed her.
THE MIRROR'S CHOICE
The moment their lips met, Skylar stopped shaking.
Not completely. But the tremors slowed. The light in her eyes flickered.
The growl became a breath.
Avery felt her own body react—pulse surging, fingers tightening, the ring on her hand glowing white-hot.
A bond.
She felt it.
Not lust. Not just chemistry.
A soul-deep, memory-bound tether that had been waiting lifetimes to lock into place again.
Skylar whimpered into her mouth. Pulled her close.
"I don't want to lose myself," she whispered against Avery's lips.
Avery touched her chest, over the mark. "Then don't. Stay here. Stay with me."
And the glow under Skylar's skin began to dim.
THE EYE IN THE DOORWAY
Neither of them saw the shadow outside the dorm room window.
But something watched.
Something ancient.
A flash of white eyes. A flicker of black fur.
And then it vanished, leaving only a whisper in the air, carried on the wind:
"The bond is awakening. One must die."
THE MOURNING AFTER
Skylar slept for twelve straight hours.
When she woke, her body ached—but she was still human.
No claws. No glowing.
Just sweat-soaked skin, and a dull throb in her chest where Avery's hand had rested.
She rolled over and found Avery still sitting beside the bed, dozing lightly.
The ring still shimmered faintly on her hand.
Skylar touched it.
The moment she did, a vision flickered behind her eyes:
A white wolf, alone on a snowy cliff.
A dagger buried in its side.
And a girl with Avery's face, crying into the wind.
Skylar jerked her hand back.
But it was too late.
She knew what it meant.
If she lost control again—
Avery would be the one to end her.
And somehow… she would do it.
THE PULL OF THE MOON
The night after the shift, Skylar felt it again.
The moon wasn't even full—just a fat, waxing crescent hanging low over the trees—but its pull was iron in her blood. A magnet dragging her from her bed, from her skin, from herself.
She stood barefoot in the hallway of Avery's dorm.
Her breath fogged the glass on the window.
"I can feel the forest," she whispered.
Behind her, Avery stirred. She'd barely left Skylar's side since the shift. She didn't say anything now—just moved up behind her and wrapped her arms around Skylar's waist.
Her body was soft against Skylar's back, grounding her.
Skylar closed her eyes.
"I'm scared," she said.
"I know."
"I want to go out there."
"I know."
Silence.
Then Avery whispered, "I'm coming with you."
THE WOODS KNOW HER NAME
The forest was alive.
Not in the way most people thought—crickets, wind, branches shifting—but alive.
Skylar could feel the heartbeat of it. The rhythm of the earth pulsing up through the soles of her feet.
Her steps were slower now. More certain. She didn't stumble like last time. The woods knew her now. Welcomed her.
Beside her, Avery walked in silence, her ring glowing faintly. She didn't try to lead.
She just followed.
They reached the same clearing—the one from Skylar's vision.
Fireflies buzzed in lazy loops around them.
The air was heavy with dew and fate.
Skylar stepped forward into the center and dropped to her knees.
Avery stayed on the edge, afraid to get too close.
Skylar looked up at the sky.
And screamed.
THE SHATTERING
It wasn't a scream of pain.
It was a release.
A surrender.
Her back arched. Her shirt tore.
Her arms trembled as muscle rippled and twisted beneath her skin.
Avery watched, frozen, heart in her throat.
Skylar's spine shifted—crack, crack, crack—and her shoulder blades tore open like wings that weren't quite wings.
Fur pushed through the skin in flashes. Her jaw distended. Her fingers fused into thick claws. Her breath came in huffs, teeth bared, saliva thick.
She was halfway human. Halfway beast.
And fighting it.
Avery stepped forward.
Her pendant flared against her chest. Her ring burned.
"Sky," she whispered. "Skylar, look at me."
The beast that was becoming Skylar turned.
Her eyes were gold.
But they softened when they saw Avery.
For a moment… she was still in there.
THE MIRROR'S VOICE
Avery knelt, slowly.
She didn't reach out.
She just spoke.
"You're still you. You don't have to lose yourself to this."
The creature growled, low and unsure.
"You're not what they made you. You're not a monster."
A ripple passed through Skylar's body. Like her skin wasn't sure what shape to take anymore.
"You were mine before," Avery whispered. "And I'll find you again. Every time. Even like this."
The ring glowed white-hot.
Skylar howled—but not in rage.
It was grief.
And Avery heard it.
She heard the pain of a hundred deaths, of lifetimes lost, of love undone and forgotten.
Avery whispered the name she saw in the vision.
"Evra."
The creature stilled.
And slowly… the shift began to reverse.
THE AFTERMATH
Skylar lay naked in the grass, shivering.
Her body slick with sweat and rain and something ancient that still shimmered in her veins.
Avery cradled her, wrapped in her jacket, whispering nothing and everything into her ear.
"I'm here. I'm here. I'm here."
Skylar didn't speak for a long time.
When she did, her voice was wrecked.
"I felt like I was drowning. But then I heard you. You pulled me out."
Avery nodded, eyes burning.
"You're not alone in this," she whispered.
Skylar closed her eyes.
And for the first time since the mark appeared, she believed it.
THE THING THAT WATCHES
High above the clearing, unseen and unsmelled, something crouched in the boughs of an ancient pine.
It watched the girls.
Watched the kiss.
Watched the transformation… and the reversal.
And whispered through cracked lips:
"The bond has formed."
"The war begins again."
It dropped to all fours.
And vanished into the dark.
THE CHOICE
Back in Avery's room, hours later, Skylar was asleep again—finally at peace.
Avery sat by the window.
The journal open on her lap.
The page she'd ripped out now whole again.
She read the line she couldn't ignore:
"And if the mirror cannot love the beast, it must kill her."
Avery traced the words with her finger.
Her heart didn't waver.
She looked back at Skylar.
And whispered, "Then I will love her."