The beast’s roar reverberated through the clearing, shaking the earth and sending shockwaves through Lira’s very soul. Every rogue scattered in terror, their snarls turning into yelps of fear as they disappeared into the forest. Even Damon, unshakable and steadfast, stood frozen beside her, his wolf form bristling with unease.
Lira couldn’t move. She couldn’t breathe. The massive creature towered above her, its glowing eyes boring into her with a depth she couldn’t comprehend. Its shimmering scales reflected the moonlight, and the air around it seemed to hum with raw, ancient power.
“You are not ready,” the beast had said, the words still echoing in her mind.
Not ready for what? Lira’s heart pounded as questions flooded her thoughts. What was this creature? Why did it feel like it knew her? And why did its presence awaken something deep inside her—something powerful and untamed, something that both terrified and exhilarated her?
The beast took another step forward, the ground trembling beneath its massive claws. Its gaze remained locked on her, as if the rest of the world didn’t exist. Lira’s wolf stirred uneasily within her, but it wasn’t fear. It was something else. Recognition. Submission.
“Lira,” Damon’s voice broke through her trance, sharp and urgent. He had shifted back into his human form, his golden eyes wide with worry. “We have to go. Now.”
But Lira couldn’t tear her gaze away from the beast. Something about it held her in place, as if invisible chains had wrapped around her body, binding her to the spot. Her breathing quickened as the beast lowered its massive head, bringing it level with her.
“What... are you?” she whispered, her voice trembling but defiant.
The beast didn’t answer. Instead, it let out a low, guttural growl, its breath hot against her face. For a moment, she thought it might strike her down, but then she felt it—a sharp, burning pain on her chest. She gasped, stumbling back as the sensation intensified, as if her very skin was being branded.
“Lira!” Damon caught her before she fell, his arms steadying her as her body convulsed. She clutched at her chest, her fingers brushing against something warm and unfamiliar. When she looked down, her breath caught in her throat.
A mark.
Glowing faintly against her skin, just above her heart, was a symbol she didn’t recognize. It was intricate and ancient, swirling lines and sharp angles forming a design that seemed to pulse with its own light. The pain faded as quickly as it had come, but the mark remained, its presence undeniable.
“What is this?” Lira gasped, her voice barely audible. She looked up at the beast, her golden eyes wide with a mixture of fear and awe. “What did you do to me?”
The beast’s growl softened, almost... mournful. It straightened, towering over her once more, and for a moment, Lira thought she saw something in its eyes—an emotion she couldn’t name, but one that felt heavy with meaning.
“You carry the blood of the forgotten,” the beast rumbled, its voice low and resonant, like the rumbling of a storm. “The mark is your birthright. But it is also your burden.”
Lira’s mind raced. The blood of the forgotten? The mark? None of it made sense. But before she could demand answers, the beast raised its massive head, its gaze shifting to the treeline.
“They are coming,” it growled, its tone darker now, more urgent. “You must survive.”
“Who’s coming?” Damon demanded, stepping in front of Lira protectively. His voice was steady, but Lira could see the tension in his posture, the way his muscles coiled like a spring ready to snap.
The beast didn’t answer. Instead, it let out another roar, the sound splitting the night like thunder. The power of it forced Lira and Damon to their knees, the sheer force pressing down on them like a physical weight.
And then, the beast was gone.
It vanished into the shadows as if it had never been there, leaving only silence in its wake. The forest felt empty, lifeless, as if all the energy had been drained from it. Lira struggled to her feet, her body trembling with exhaustion and confusion.
“Lira,” Damon said, his voice sharp but gentle. “Are you okay? What was that thing? And that... that mark on your chest—”
“I don’t know,” Lira interrupted, her voice cracking. She pressed a hand to the glowing symbol, its warmth seeping into her skin. “I don’t know what’s happening to me.”
Before Damon could respond, a distant howl cut through the air, chilling them both to the bone. It wasn’t a rogue’s howl. It was deeper, darker, and filled with a malice that made Lira’s wolf bristle in fear.
Damon’s jaw tightened. “We need to move. Now.”
Lira nodded, her instincts screaming at her to run. But as they turned to leave, the sound of snapping branches stopped them in their tracks. Out of the shadows, figures began to emerge. Not rogues, but something worse.
Their bodies were twisted and unnatural, their skin pale and stretched tight over sharp bones. Their eyes glowed a sickly green, and their movements were jerky, almost inhuman. Lira’s wolf growled low in her chest, but the fear was unmistakable. These creatures were not of her world.
“Run,” Damon hissed, his voice filled with urgency. He grabbed Lira’s arm, pulling her back toward the packhouse. But the creatures moved faster than she expected, their unnatural speed closing the distance in seconds.
One of them lunged, its claws swiping at Damon. He dodged, shifting mid-movement into his wolf form and tearing into the creature with a ferocity that made Lira’s heart clench. But even as it fell, two more took its place.
Lira shifted, her wolf springing forward to help Damon. Together, they fought, but the creatures were relentless. For every one they brought down, more emerged from the shadows, their glowing eyes unyielding.
And then, the ground began to shake.
Lira froze, her wolf snarling as the tremors grew stronger. The creatures paused as well, their heads snapping toward the source of the disturbance. From the forest’s edge, a figure stepped into the clearing.
It was a man—tall, cloaked in shadow, his face obscured. But his presence was overwhelming, radiating a power that made Lira’s chest tighten. The creatures fell silent, their glowing eyes turning toward him in unison.
The man raised a hand, and the creatures immediately stepped back, their snarls subdued. His gaze shifted to Lira, and for a moment, she thought she saw a flicker of recognition in his shadowed features.
“You bear the mark,” he said, his voice smooth and cold. “It seems the game has begun.”
Lira’s wolf growled, her body tense and ready to strike. “Who are you?” she demanded, her voice steady despite the fear coursing through her veins.
The man didn’t answer. Instead, he took another step forward, his presence suffocating. “You’ll find out soon enough,” he said, his tone almost amused. “But for now... run, little wolf. Run while you still can.”
Before Lira could respond, the man raised his hand again, and the creatures lunged toward her and Damon. The last thing she saw before chaos erupted was his shadowy form disappearing into the night, his chilling laughter echoing in her ears.