The wolf howled in pain and turned on her, jaws snapping inches from her face until Amon tackled it again, this time sinking his teeth into its throat. A gurgle. A twitch.
Then silence.
The wolf's body shifted in death back into a man.
Nicole's breath caught.
It was one of the Circle.
"Gareth," Amon said under his breath, fur retreating as he shifted back.
He staggered, blood on his shoulder and side. "He was the traitor."
Nicole couldn't speak.
She looked at the blood on her hands. The silver dagger, slick and trembling in her grip.
Amon stepped toward her.
"You protected me," she whispered.
He looked at her like she was the only thing that mattered. "
No. You protected us."
Nicole didn't dream that night.
She didn't dare.
Even after Gareth's body had been dragged into the woods by two grim-faced enforcers. Even after the silver blade had been scrubbed clean. Even after Amon cleaned the blood from her hands, her arms, and sat beside her until sunrise.
There were no dreams only silence.
And the heaviness of what she had done.
When she awoke, sunlight pooled over the pine floorboards like molten gold. Amon was gone.
But the scent of smoke and cedar lingered. The pillow beside hers was still indented. His warmth hadn't completely faded.
Nicole pushed herself up slowly. Every muscle felt sore, like she'd been running for hours. Maybe she had, in a way. Her body was trying to catch up with her soul.
Downstairs, the house was quiet.
She found a set of fresh clothes neatly folded on the dresser. There was a pair of jeans, a fitted black long-sleeve, thick socks. Nothing fancy. But when she touched the fabric, she realized it wasn't random.
It was all hers.
Amon had gone back to her old house. He'd retrieved what he could. There was even her worn notebook tucked inside the pile.
She swallowed hard.
He didn't say anything about it last night. But he'd thought of it, of her.
By the time Nicole walked down the steps and into the kitchen, Amon was back.
He stood by the sink, shirtless, a long cut taped across his ribs. Steam rose from the coffee pot beside him. He looked tired. Hollowed out. But when he saw her, something in him relaxed.
"You're awake," he said, voice rough with sleep. "How do you feel?"
Nicole stepped into the light. "Like I killed someone."
He didn't flinch. "You did what you had to do."
"I still did it."
There was a long silence between them. Then Amon turned, grabbed a mug, and held it out to her. "Drink, eat then we talk."
She took it. Not because she wanted to but because she needed to stay strong. Whatever this bond between them was, it wouldn't protect her from guilt.
Or war.
They sat at the kitchen table in near silence.
Amon drank black coffee like it was the only thing keeping him upright. Nicole picked at toast she didn't remember asking for.
Finally, she asked, "Who was he? Gareth?"
Amon looked up. "One of ours. A warrior. Trusted. Too trusted."
She nodded slowly. "So why did he attack me?"
Amon hesitated. "Because someone wants you dead. Or worse… turned before the bond settles."
"Bond?" Her stomach turned. "You mean—"
"You and I. Last night… it awakened it. Whatever you are, whoever you were before the moment you stepped under that blood moon and into our territory, the link began forming."
Nicole leaned back. "You make it sound like some cosmic arranged marriage."
He didn't smile. "It's older than that. It's primal. Fated mates are rare, Nicole. Especially ones with your blood."
"My blood?"
Amon's jaw tightened. "You're not just human. Not anymore. Maybe not ever."
Nicole's breath caught. "What does that mean?"
He stood and paced the room, fingers dragging through his hair. "It means someone knew you were coming. Someone who's afraid of what you are or what you'll become. Gareth wasn't acting alone. There's more and they won't stop."
Outside, wind stirred the treetops. Birds scattered.
Then a howl. It was distant, low and mournful.
Amon froze. "That's not one of ours."
He moved fast. Grabbed a black hoodie, slung a blade across his back, and gestured for her to stay behind.
Nicole was already tying her boots. "I'm coming with you."
"No," he growled. "You're not ready."
She stepped into his path. "Someone wants me dead, right? And I just killed a wolf. I'm already in this, Amon. Whether I like it or not."
Their eyes locked.
Then, reluctantly, he nodded. "Stay close. Don't hesitate."
Nicole grabbed the dagger again. The weight of it felt different now, like part of her. Not just survival. Something deeper, something wilder.
They ran through the woods.
Trees blurred past them, roots and shadows. The scent of blood in the air again but faint, stale.
Amon stopped near a clearing. His nose twitched. His shoulders tensed.
Then he said it, barely a whisper.
"Rogue."
Nicole followed his gaze.
Across the clearing, a figure stood silhouetted in the light. Not fully wolf. Not fully man. Shifted wrong. Broken.
And in its hand something shone.
It was a locket.
Nicole's heart stopped.
It was hers.
The one from her mother.
She stepped forward without thinking. "That's mine—"
The rogue snarled and launched.
The rogue lunged across the clearing like a shadow unchained.
Amon moved faster.
He slammed into the beast mid-air, driving it to the ground with a sickening crack. Claws slashed. Teeth snapped. Nicole barely had time to dodge out of the way before the two were locked in a brutal, blur-fast fight.
This wasn't like Gareth. This was raw, vicious. The rogue wasn't fighting to test boundaries. He was fighting to kill.
And he had her locket. Nicole stood frozen for a second. Then instinct took over.
She sprinted toward the edge of the clearing, circling behind the rogue. It didn't see her — it couldn't. Amon was keeping it occupied, teeth bared in a snarl, blood running down his arm.
Amon's voice broke through the chaos. "Nicole — don't touch it!"
Too late. She grabbed the locket from the rogue's waist just as Amon tackled it again. The metal was warm, burning, almost and as soon as her fingers closed around it, a surge of something dark and electric coursed through her veins.
Her knees buckled.
Visions. Flashes. A voice calling her name in a language she didn't understand. A field of black roses under a crimson sky. A child, herself? standing before a ring of flames.
Nicole gasped and dropped the locket.
Everything snapped back.
Amon had the rogue pinned now. Blood smeared the grass. The creature writhed and growled, but its eyes were feral, broken. They never left Nicole.
"Who sent you?" Amon demanded.
The rogue's voice was barely more than a gurgle. "The shadow… comes for her…"
Nicole stepped back. "What shadow?"
It smiled, a horrific twist of lips over too-long fangs. "She was born to bleed."
Then it shifted fully, bones cracking, spine contorting and bit its own tongue clean off.
Blood poured from its mouth. It slumped. Dead.
Nicole staggered back. "He killed himself…"
Amon cursed and stood. "They're taught. If they fail, they don't speak. That's how deep this goes."
Nicole bent down and picked up the locket again, this time ready for the heat. It didn't burn it pulsed. Steady. Like a heartbeat.
"I thought this belonged to my mom," she whispered. "But I don't remember where I got it."
Amon stared at her for a long time. "That's not just a keepsake. That's a blood token."
She blinked. "What's that?"
"Something ancient. Usually tied to a bloodline or a vow." He ran a hand through his hair, his expression darkening. "And if it was with a rogue like that then someone's been tracking you for a long time."
Nicole's chest tightened. "Why me?"
Amon looked at her. "Because you're not just marked, Nicole. You're chosen. And that scares the hell out of them."
Back at the cabin, Amon sealed the rogue's body in salt and ash before burning it behind the tree line. Nicole sat on the steps, staring at the locket in her palm.
It had cooled now. But it still pulsed. Almost… waiting.
She ran her thumb across the edge. It clicked open with a soft snap.
Inside was a tiny portrait of a woman with long, dark curls and eyes like fire. Not her mother.
But somehow familiar.
Then a note, folded small, tucked inside the backing.
She pulled it out and read the words written in an elegant, jagged script:
"The moon remembers what the blood forgets."
Nicole's breath caught.
"Found something?" Amon's voice came from behind her.
She handed him the note. "Do you know what it means?"
He studied it, frowning. "No. But I know who might."
Nicole stood. "Then let's go."
"Now?"
"We're being hunted, Amon. I'm not going to sit here and wait for the next rogue to show up with a piece of my past."
He looked at her, not the scared, confused girl who arrived in Ravenshade, but the fierce, storm-eyed girl she was becoming.
Then he nodded. "There's a seer in the North Woods. She won't talk to me."
"Why not?"
"She hates wolves."
Nicole smiled grimly. "Lucky for us I'm not just a wolf."
They rode on Amon's bike, tearing down the dirt path that sliced through the trees like a scar. Wind in her hair. Adrenaline in her veins. The locket tied around her neck now, cold against her skin.
As they neared the edge of the forest, something strange began to happen.
The trees leaned in.
Not literally. But the air grew thicker, heavier. Like the woods were holding their breath.
Amon slowed. "We're here."
Nicole looked around. "Where's the seer?"
He pointed toward a worn footpath barely visible between the thorns. "She's in there. Alone. Been alive longer than most wolves can count."
Nicole dismounted. "Let's see what she remembers."
The hut was hidden beneath layers of ivy and shadow. It looked abandoned until the door creaked open before they even knocked.
A woman stepped out.
She was tall, she looked ageless her skin was like moonlight and eyes the color of dying embers. Her gaze landed on Amon first and narrowed.
"You brought a marked one here?"
"She needs answers," Amon said.
"She'll have them. You, stay outside."
Amon growled low, protective, but Nicole touched his arm. "It's okay. I've got this."
She stepped inside.
The seer's hut smelled of lavender, bloodroot, and old sorrow.
Nicole sat when told. She didn't speak.
The seer ran a single finger across Nicole's palm, then traced the locket with an expression that shifted from curious to troubled.
"This should not be in your hands."
Nicole stared at her. "Why not?"
"Because it was forged in a promise made by wolves and broken by witches."
Nicole's blood turned cold. "I'm not a witch."
"No," the seer said slowly. "You're something worse. You're both."
Nicole stared at her, thunder crashing in her chest. "What are you saying?"
The seer leaned close. Her breath was cool and her words softer than smoke.
"You are the last daughter of the Moon Pact. Your blood holds both the curse… and the key."
Nicole stared at the seer, the words still echoing in her skull.
"You are the last daughter of the Moon Pact."
"What is the Moon Pact?" she asked, her voice a trembling thread.
The seer turned away, rifling through jars and bones on her shelf. "An ancient bond. Forged before wolves ran in packs and witches ruled from shadows. It was meant to bring peace between bloodlines."
Nicole swallowed. "And?"
"It failed. Because one side fell in love. And the other betrayed it."
She turned back to Nicole, holding a silver bowl etched with lunar runes. "Your mother was one of the last of her kind, a bridge. A witch born of wolf blood. A forbidden thing."
"That's not possible. My mom was… normal."
"No one normal leaves behind a locket with a blood oath etched into its chain."
Nicole opened the locket again. The tiny portrait inside stared back, a woman with fire in her eyes.
"Was that my mother?" she asked.
The seer took the locket. Her hand trembled. "No. That… was the wolf who broke the pact. The one they buried in the Black Forest. The one whose blood runs in your veins."
Nicole's mind raced. "I don't understand. My dad, he was never in the picture. I don't even remember what happened to him."
"You were hidden," the seer said. "Kept safe. But the blood always remembers. And now that you've awakened, so have they."
"They?"
"The ones who fear what you are. And the one who wants to claim you."
Nicole's heart twisted. "Claim me?"
"The Shadow King."
Outside the hut, Amon paced like a caged wolf. His senses were screaming. The scent of old magic. The tension in Nicole's blood. The faint hum of danger rising in the distance.
When Nicole finally stepped out, her eyes were glazed like frost had kissed her soul.
Amon caught her. "What happened?"
She looked up at him. "I'm not just marked. I'm… mixed."
His brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"
"My mom was a witch. A powerful one. And my blood is tied to something ancient something they're afraid of."
Amon stiffened. "Witches and wolves don't mix. Not without blood."
"I didn't choose this."
"I know," he said quietly. "But they'll still come for you."
Nicole held out the locket. "Do you know who this is?"
Amon took one look and dropped it.
He stepped back, pale. "That's Lyra. The She-Wolf of the Black Forest. She started the war between packs and covens over a hundred years ago."
"She's dead."
"She's supposed to be," Amon said. "But her bloodline vanished after the final battle. Everyone thought it died with her."
Nicole bent to pick the locket up. "It didn't."
Amon's voice dropped to a whisper. "That means you're…"
Nicole met his gaze. "The heir to the Moon Pact."
They didn't speak much on the way back.
Ravenshade was quiet when they returned. Too quiet.
Nicole stepped off the bike, her boots crunching on gravel. She felt different now. Like her skin didn't quite fit. Like every heartbeat was echoing someone else's name.
She headed straight for the woods.
Amon followed. "Where are you going?"
"I need to think."
"You need to stay close."
She turned to him. "Why? So you can protect me like I'm breakable?"
He winced. "That's not what this is."
"No?" She crossed her arms. "Because it feels like everything changed the second you found out I'm not just a girl in your woods."
"It changed me, not you." Amon stepped closer, voice low and rough. "You think I don't feel it? The pull between us. The bond."
Nicole's breath caught. "So it's real?"
"Yes. But bonds don't lie. You're mine, Nicole. But I'm not sure I deserve you."
Her anger cracked. "Why would you say that?"
"Because if the packs find out what you are, they'll come for you. And if I protect you… I'll have to go to war with my own."
Nicole stepped in, her hands on his chest. "Then let's make it worth it."
Amon's breath hitched.
Then he kissed her.
And the woods caught fire.
Not literally. But the wind shifted, the leaves shimmered, and every inch of Nicole's body felt like it had come alive for the first time.
When they pulled apart, she was shaking. "That felt…"
"Right," Amon finished.
But even as he said it, his eyes darkened.
Something was wrong.
They didn't make it back to the cabin before the first howl split the sky.
Amon went rigid. "That's not one of mine."
Nicole turned. "More rogues?"
"No," he said, scanning the treeline. "That's a war call."
Then the second howl came. Low. Cold. And it answered the first.
Nicole drew in a sharp breath. "They found us."
Amon grabbed her hand. "We run."
They tore through the woods, moonlight slashing through the branches. Nicole didn't even feel the branches tearing at her arms. She was running like something wild lived inside her now.
Then
A figure stepped out in front of them.
Not a rogue, not a wolf.
A man.
Tall, elegant, wrapped in shadow.
Nicole skidded to a halt. "Who—"
He smiled, fangs gleaming. "So small for someone so dangerous."
Amon snarled. "Back off."
But the man didn't even flinch. He looked only at Nicole. "We've waited so long for your kind to return. And now that you've awakened… the real hunt begins."
Nicole stepped in front of Amon. "Who are you?"
The man bowed. "A servant of the Shadow King. And I've come to deliver a message."
He held out a scroll. Black parchment. Sealed with blood.
Nicole didn't take it. "Tell him I'm not interested."
The man chuckled. "He'll see you soon anyway. He always gets what he wants."
Before Amon could lunge, the man vanished, as if he was just swallowed by mist.
Nicole stared at the ground where he'd stood. "We need to leave. Now."