15 years later.
The wolves circled her like shadows come to life, their massive forms moving through the darkness with predatory grace.
Marcelline's bare feet slipped on the forest floor as she ran, thorns tearing at her skin, her heart pounding so hard she could taste copper in her mouth.
These weren't normal wolves. They were huge, the size of bears, with eyes that glowed amber in the moonlight and teeth that looked more like knives. The leader, a beast with midnight-black fur, stalked closer, its lips pulling back in something that might have been a smile if it had been human.
"Please," she whispered, stumbling backward. "What do you want from me?"
The wolf's only answer was a low growl that seemed to vibrate through her bones. It crouched, muscles bunching under its dark coat, preparing to spring—
Marcelline gasped awake, her body jolting upright like she'd been struck by lightning.
Sweat dripped down her face and between her shoulder blades, soaking through her old sleep shirt until it stuck to her skin. Her heart hammered against her ribs, and for a terrifying moment, she half-expected to see glowing eyes staring at her from the shadows.
Instead, she found herself looking into familiar green eyes, worried, gentle eyes the color of summer grass.
"Another nightmare?" Ethan asked softly.
He was sitting on the edge of her bed, his blonde hair messy from sleep, wearing nothing but gray sweatpants that hung low on his hips. Even through her lingering terror, Marcelline couldn't help but notice the way the morning light highlighted every muscle of his chest and shoulders. Three years of dating, and he still made her stomach flip.
She nodded, not trusting her voice yet. The nightmares had been getting worse lately, always the same themes, always involving things that wanted to hunt her, hurt her.
Dr. Martinez had said they were probably related to losing her parents so young, combined with the head injury that had wiped most of her early memories.
"Come here, sweetheart," Ethan said, opening his arms.
Marcelline didn't hesitate. She collapsed against his chest, breathing in his familiar scent, cologne mixed with sleep and something uniquely him. His arms wrapped around her, strong and warm and safe.
"Yeah," she whispered against his shoulder. "Another one."
He pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her head. "Want to talk about it?"
"They were so big, Ethan. And smart. Like they knew exactly what they were doing." She pulled back to look at him, noting the concern in his eyes. "It felt so real."
"It's just your brain processing trauma," he said, repeating what her therapist had told them. "Doesn't make it less scary, though."
Marcelline tilted her head up, intending to kiss him properly. But as she leaned closer, Ethan pulled back with an exaggerated look of horror.
"Uh-uh," he said, wrinkling his nose. "Morning breath, sweetheart. That's a hard no."
"You're such an ass," she laughed, swatting at his chest. But she was smiling now, the nightmare finally losing its grip on her.
Ethan chuckled, catching her hand and kissing her knuckles before standing up.
"Well," he said, turning back with that grin that made her heart skip, "happy birthday, sweetheart. Welcome to the big two-oh."
The words washed away the last of her fear, replacing it with something warm and light. Twenty. She was officially an adult now, which felt absolutely surreal.
"Happy twentieth birthday to me," she said, flopping back onto her pillows dramatically. "I feel ancient."
"Ancient and gorgeous," Ethan said, leaning down to kiss her forehead. "Now come on, birthday girl. Grandma Yenna's been up since five making your favorite pancakes, and Grace has been bouncing off the walls to give you your present."
Ten minutes later, after some actual teeth brushing and face washing, Marcelline made her way downstairs.
The kitchen smelled like vanilla and chocolate, and Grandma Yenna stood at the stove looking elegant as always. At eighty-five, she moved like someone half her age, something that had always amazed Marcelline. The woman seemed ageless.
"There's the birthday girl!" Grace called from her perch on a kitchen stool. At fifteen, Ethan's cousin was all long legs and boundless energy, her dark curls barely contained by a bright pink headband. "I was starting to think you were gonna sleep forever."
"It's seven AM, Grace," Marcelline laughed, accepting a plate of steaming pancakes from Grandma Yenna. "Normal people are still asleep."
"Normal people are boring," Grace shot back with a grin. "Besides, I've been planning tonight for weeks. You, me, Ethan, and half our friends are gonna have the best night ever."
Ethan slid into the seat next to Marcelline. "Please tell me you're not planning anything that'll get us arrested. Some of us have college to think about."
Marcelline smiled at the mention of their plans. After graduating from Millbrook High last month, both she and Ethan had been accepted to Riverside University. It was perfect, far enough to feel independent, close enough for Sunday dinners with Grandma Yenna. Ethan had even moved into the guest room officially a few weeks ago.
"Speaking of celebrations," Grandma Yenna said, producing a chocolate cake from seemingly nowhere, "this calls for some singing."
The next few minutes were filled with an enthusiastic but completely off-key rendition of "Happy Birthday." Grace added dramatic harmony while Ethan sang in purposefully terrible falsetto. When they reached the end, Marcelline closed her eyes, made a secret wish, and blew out all twenty candles.
"What'd you wish for?" Grace asked immediately.
"Can't tell you, or it won't come true," Marcelline replied, cutting into the cake. Chocolate with vanilla buttercream, her favorite, the same kind Grandma Yenna made every year.
Grandma Yenna pulled her into a warm hug that smelled like flour and lavender. "Happy birthday, little star," she whispered.
The nickname sent a familiar shiver through Marcelline's chest. Strange, like an echo of something she should remember but couldn't. Grandma Yenna had explained once that her parents used to call her that, before the car accident that killed them when she was five. The same accident that gave her the head injury responsible for the gaps in her memory, why she could barely remember anything before age six.
Sometimes she wondered what it would be like to remember them. But those memories were locked away behind walls of trauma that even doctors couldn't break through.
"So," Ethan said, stealing a bite of her cake, "what does the birthday girl want to do today?"
Marcelline grinned, the nightmare completely forgotten. "I want to get absolutely wasted with Maya and Josh and whoever else wants to join. Think you can handle that?"
"Ooh, she wants to get turnt," Grace said, making Ethan visibly cringe.
"You're fifteen," Ethan pointed out. "You don't get to be turnt for six more years."
"Ugh, you sound like a dad. It's gross."
Ethan chuckled, ruffling his cousin's curls. "I can handle getting you drunk, sweetheart," he told Marcelline. "But first you need to shower. You still smell like a filthy pig."
"Charming," Marcelline said dryly, already standing. "You really know how to make a girl feel special."
"That's what I'm here for," Ethan replied with a wink.
But as Marcelline headed toward the stairs, Grandma Yenna's voice stopped her cold.
"Actually, little star," she said, and something in her tone made Marcelline's skin prickle. "There's something we need to talk about. Something important."
Marcelline paused, one foot on the bottom step. Grandma Yenna looked... different. Serious in a way she'd never seen before. Almost sad. It sent an uncomfortable chill through her.
"Sure," she said carefully. "When I get back?"
"Actually—" Grandma Yenna started, reaching out.
But Marcelline was already bounding up the stairs. "Give me twenty minutes to become human again, then we can talk about whatever's making you look so serious!"
She didn't see the worried look on Grandma Yenna's face. She was too busy thinking about hot water and soap and a day filled with friends and laughter, everything that made being twenty feel like the beginning of something amazing.
If she had looked back, she might have seen that Grandma Yenna's hands were shaking as she watched her go.