I sit up carefully, half-expecting my body to protest. It doesn't. The bond corruption that had me gasping for breath just days ago is still there, I can feel it pulsing in my chest, but it's changed. The ice-cold agony has transformed into something that burns and freezes simultaneously. Not pleasant, but bearable.
We survived, my wolf says.
I freeze. That voice. It's familiar but completely wrong. Deeper than Senna's ever was. Older. Darker.
"Senna?"
Not anymore, she replies. I died. What came back is something else.
I press my hand against my chest, feeling the steady rhythm of my heartbeat, the corrupted bond pulsing beneath it. She's right. The presence inside me is both my wolf and a stranger.
"What do I call you?"
Whatever you want. I am you. You are me. We are what the ruins made us.
I stand on shaking legs. My body feels different too. Stronger. Like the power that carved itself into my soul left physical changes behind.
I look down at my arms and gasp.
Silver marks cover my skin. Delicate lines that look like scars but shimmer faintly in the morning light, tracing patterns from my wrists up to my shoulders. I touch one gently. It doesn't hurt. It feels warm, alive, like the moon's power running through my veins.
I need to see the rest.
There's a still pool of water near the edge of the ruins, fed by a small spring. I stumble toward it, my legs unsteady, and drop to my knees at the water's edge.
The reflection staring back at me is a stranger.
My hair, once brown and ordinary, is silver. Not gray like age, but pure silver that catches the light like starlight. It falls around my face in waves, framing features that look sharper than before. Harder.
But it's the marks that steal my breath.
They cover more than just my arms. Silver lines trace across my collarbones, down my ribs, curving around my waist. I pull up my shirt with trembling hands and see them spreading across my stomach, disappearing beneath the waistband of my pants.
"I look like a monster," I whisper.
You look like power, my wolf corrects. Like someone who survived.
I touch my reflection in the water, watching the ripples distort the stranger's face.
"I don't know who I am anymore."
Figure it out, she says bluntly. We can't stay here.
She's right. I've been unconscious for days, maybe longer. I need food. Water. Shelter. All the practical things that don't care about existential crises.
I push myself to my feet and immediately sense it.
It's not sight or sound. It's something else entirely. A pull, faint but insistent, tugging at my awareness. I turn toward it instinctively, my body moving before my mind catches up.
"What is that?"
Pain, my wolf says. Suffering. An omega in distress.
The knowledge settles over me with absolute certainty. Somewhere out there, not far from where I'm standing, someone is hurting. And I can feel it.
"How..."
The ruins gave us this. The power to sense what they felt. Every omega who was sacrificed, who was silenced, who suffered alone. We carry their legacy now.
The pull intensifies. Whoever it is, they're close. And they're terrified.
I start walking before I consciously decide to. My feet carry me through the forest, following the invisible thread of suffering. The corrupted bond in my chest flares occasionally, reminding me of Kael somewhere far away, but I push the feeling aside.
He doesn't matter anymore.
The trees thin ahead. I hear voices. Male. Rough.
"Please," a female voice begs. "I didn't do anything wrong. I just needed food-"
"Stealing from a pack is a crime, omega." The man's voice is cold. "You know the punishment."
I step into the clearing.
There are four of them. Rogue wolves, by the look of it. Rough clothes, scarred faces, the kind of males who survive by taking from those weaker than them.
They've cornered a young woman against a tree. She can't be more than nineteen, thin and trembling, with dark hair and eyes wide with fear.
The largest rogue has his hand around her throat.
"Let her go," I say.
My voice doesn't sound like mine. It's colder. Harder. The voice of someone who has died and come back different.
All four rogues turn to look at me. For a moment, they just stare. I know what they see. A woman with silver hair and glowing marks, standing alone in Shadowpine Forest where no one should be able to survive.
Then the largest one laughs.
"Well, well. What do we have here?" He releases the girl, who collapses to her knees gasping. "Another omega trying to play hero?"
"I said let her go."
"Or what?" He takes a step toward me, his wolf rising to the surface. His eyes flash amber. "You'll fight all four of us? You're pretty, I'll give you that. But you're still just-"
Power erupts from my hands.
I don't think about it. Don't consciously call it. The moment he threatens me, silver light explodes outward in a wave, slamming into all four rogues with the force of a physical blow.
They're thrown backward. Hard. The largest one hits a tree trunk with a sickening crack and doesn't get up. The others scramble to their feet, their expressions shifting from arrogance to fear.
"What the hell are you?" one of them breathes.
I look down at my hands. They're glowing, silver light dancing across my palms like living flame. The power feels natural, like it's always been there, just waiting for me to use it.
We are not prey anymore, my wolf says, satisfaction bleeding through her words.
The remaining rogues exchange glances. One of them, braver or stupider than the others, shifts into his wolf form. A massive gray beast that snarls, showing teeth.
He lunges.
I don't move. The power moves for me.
Silver light wraps around the attacking wolf mid-leap, stopping him in midair. He hangs there, suspended, struggling against invisible bonds. I feel the ruins' magic responding to my will, bending reality to protect me.
"Leave," I tell the other two. "Now. Before I decide you're all threats."
They run.
The one suspended in my power whimpers, his wolf form flickering as fear overrides aggression.
I hold him there for another moment, letting him feel what it's like to be powerless, then release him. He drops to the ground, scrambles to his feet, and bolts after his companions.
The clearing falls silent except for the girl's ragged breathing.
I turn to her. She's staring at me with a mixture of terror and awe, pressed against the tree like she's trying to disappear into the bark.
"Are you hurt?" I ask, forcing my voice to soften.
She shakes her head mutely.
"Good. Go. Find a safe pack. One that won't punish you for trying to survive."
"Thank you," she whispers. Then, quieter: "What are you?"
I look down at my glowing hands again. The silver light is already fading, sinking back beneath my skin.
"I don't know," I admit.
She scrambles to her feet and runs, disappearing into the trees without looking back.
I'm alone again.
The corrupted bond pulses in my chest, stronger now, like using the power awakened something. I can feel Kael on the other end of it, distant but present. Does he know what I've become? Can he sense the change?
Let him wonder, my wolf says viciously. Let him suffer.
I look at my hands one more time, watching the last traces of silver light fade. The rogues I just destroyed, they were nothing. Practice. A test of abilities I don't fully understand yet.
But they won't be the last.
The power inside me stirs, restless and hungry.