Seraphine Vale was never supposed to shift-her bloodline was too old, too cursed, too dangerous. But when her wolf, Jinx, rips herself free during a forbidden awakening, Seraphine becomes an anomaly: a girl with no shift, yet bound to a living beast. Now the Ashbane Alpha wants her. The Pack Council wants her dead. And her wolf? She just wants revenge. But as war brews between the bloodlines and something ancient begins to howl beneath the Hollow, Seraphine must make a choice-chain the beast back inside her... Or let her burn the world.
I'm dying.
Not the slow, whimpering kind. Not the kind of dying that's poetic or slow.
No, this is violent, the kind that rips through you like a scream trapped in bone.
Soul-tearing.
My body is being flayed from the inside out by something clawing its way through my ribs like a caged beast gone rabid. My ribs creak open. My soul howls.
My skin feels too tight. My lungs too small. My blood is screaming.
And somewhere deep inside me... Something answers.
I slam my palm against the cold forest floor, breath ragged. Sweat drips into my eyes. The ground beneath me is wet with blood, my blood, slick and burning as it mixes with the ash and moonlight. I claw at the earth, nails dirty, throat raw. Every breath is a blade. Every heartbeat is a war drum.
At nineteen, you're supposed to be blessed by the Hollow priests, guided into the shift with incense, chants and safety. But I'm not marked for safety. I was never even allowed to attend. I wasn't supposed to shift at all.
My aunt forbade it.
But I'm not nineteen anymore.
I'm twenty-one and exactly two years past the Council's approval list, and tonight I felt her worse than I have in the two years since she woke.
She was scratching. Screaming. Pacing inside my chest like she was being skinned alive.
It wanted out. She wanted out.
So I ran.
Stole my aunt's ritual book. Found the old ring of standing stones at the edge of Ashbane. Drew the circle. Whispered the words. Lit the damn fire.
The flames spit violet as the herbs caught. Smoke spiraled upward, thick and sharp with iron and something older-something that smelled like dust and nightmares. The circle pulsed under me, ancient and waiting. I sliced my palm, let blood drip into the earth. The scent mixed with the burning myrrh and juniper-sacred offerings-curling into a ritual born of desperation.
The shadows at the edge of the trees leaned closer. Curious. Or hungry.
"If you ever feel her, run. Promise me."
I was twelve. My aunt's hands were cold on my face, her voice tight. The windows had been shut, the moon high, our cottage quiet but for the sound of my heartbeat.
"You are not like the others. You will not survive what they survived."
"Why not?" I remember asking. "What's wrong with me?"
She didn't answer. Just pulled me close. Held me like she knew one day I'd stop listening.
And now I'm paying for it.
I'm not shifting like the others do, gracefully pulled into fur and claw and fang. No. Whatever's inside me is crawling through my bones like it wants to wear me. Like it wants to tear me open from the inside and stretch itself into the world.
I scream again.
"Hold still, princess. I'm almost through."
The voice isn't mine.
It's rough, female, dripping with sarcasm and silver fire-and it purrs through my mind like smoke curling over glass.
"W-what?" I choke.
A laugh echoes in my skull.
"Did you think it'd be easy? You locked me in for twenty-one years and now you want to hug it out? Cute."
My head snaps back. My spine arches so hard I hear something crack.
I'm not alone in my body anymore.
"Who....what are you?"
Silence. Then a wicked grin slides across my mind. I feel wicked amusement flush through me.
"Name's Jinx, Red."
Red?
I blink. Vision swims. I catch the flash of the red leather jacket I stole from my aunt's closet and laugh, except it comes out more like a sob. I'm on fire, skin splitting into starlight and shadow.
And then... I explode.
Not literally. But the world shifts. The pain shatters. My chest caves, and something enormous bursts out of me-howling, black, bloodstained, divine.
I collapse to the ground, choking on air and moonlight.
A big black wolf stands above me.
Fur like mist. Eyes like frost, like silver, like my hair.
Jinx. My wolf.
"Holy shit," I whisper.
She bares her teeth in something that might be a smile.
We stand there, two beings, one soul, separated. Wrong.
Wolves aren't supposed to be separate.
They're not supposed to rip their way out.
They're supposed to shift with you, into you.
Not me. Not Jinx.
Not Hollow-Born.
I stumble on trembling legs, heartbeat in my throat. "No... this isn't... possible."
She tilts her head, amused.
"Oh, it's possible. Just not allowed."
My body tilts. My vision cracks sideways. I try to stay upright, try to move toward her, to pull her back inside, but my legs are water. My limbs fail.
"Jinx-" I whisper.
I reach out with something beyond flesh, some thread between us. It slips through my fingers like smoke.
My heart beats once, then falters. I fight it. Fight the cold creeping into my fingertips. Fight the tears. Fight the rising tide of something ancient, bitter and terrifying.
"I'm not ready," I whisper. "I didn't mean-"
The ground tilts. The sky breathes. I fall to my knees.
"Don't go..." I try, but my knees hit the earth and my head lolls forward.
The world drops out from beneath me. Cold. Darkness. Silence.
The last thing I hear before I black out is her voice-soft now, almost tender.
"Sleep, Red. I'll take first watch."