Moonlight painted the collar in liquid white, the open jaws resting on fresh pine planks like a trap waiting to bite.
Lily's breath frosted the windshield. She shoved the door, boots skidding gravel.
Kade stood between the twins and the porch, shoulders squared, claws half-out.
Daisy clutched Finn's sleeve, both frozen mid-step, eyes wide silver coins.
The collar didn't move—didn't gleam—just existed, impossible.
Lily's voice cracked the hush. "Back to the truck."
Kade didn't argue. He scooped a twin under each arm, retreating.
She followed, never turning her back, rifle swinging up.
Inside the cab, she locked doors, engine still running.
Kade set the twins on the floorboard. "Stay low."
He met her gaze—question, plan, fear.
She shook her head once. No plan yet.
Headlights cut the yard. The elder's truck rolled in behind them, pack spilling out, rifles ready.
The elder approached the collar, stopped five paces, nostrils flaring.
"Silver, laced with wolfsbane," he said. "Scent's fresh—minutes."
Lily's stomach turned. "We sealed the chimney."
"Stone can't hold what isn't flesh." He signaled two wolves to circle the house.
Others fanned into trees, torches sweeping.
Kade squeezed Lily's shoulder. "I'm checking inside."
She grabbed his wrist. "Together."
He nodded.
They climbed out, leaving the twins with a teenage wolf named Sage who drew a comic book from her pocket to keep eyes busy.
Lily and Kade moved along the porch wall, backs brushing fresh paint.
Windows were shut, curtains drawn—hers, still.
She tested the front door—locked.
Kade lifted the spare key from the lintel, slid it in.
Click.
He pushed slowly; hinges stayed silent—new oil.
Inside smelled of sawdust and pine soap, comforting and wrong.
Lights off.
Kade flicked his phone torch. Beam swept the living room—couch, half-built coffee table, toy wolves lined on the windowsill.
Nothing moved.
They stepped. Floorboards creaked once.
Behind them, the elder's voice carried outside: "Clear left. Track here—boot, size eleven, human."
Lily's pulse drummed. She moved down the hall, past unpacked boxes, toward the kitchen.
Her foot hit wetness. She looked down—water spreading from the closed pantry door.
She raised the rifle.
Kade gripped the handle, counted three, yanked.
Inside, shelves were empty except for a metal bucket, brimming to the lip.
Floating on top—the silver collar, clasp now shut.
Water dripped steady, though no tap ran.
Lily's skin crawled.
Kade lifted the bucket, poured it down the sink.
The collar stayed upright, balanced on thin air, water passing through it like mist.
He cursed, stepped back.
The collar hovered, then glided toward them—slow, deliberate.
Lily fired. Bullet punched the collar, sparked, ricocheted into the ceiling.
No dent, no change.
It kept coming.
They retreated to the hallway.
Behind, the pantry wall shimmered—reflection of a lake forming on plaster, waves lapping.
A red eye blinked beneath the surface.
Lily's breath stopped.
She slammed the pantry door, wedged a chair under the handle.
Kade was already on the phone. "Elder—inside, now."
Boots thundered porch. Wolves poured in, rifles up.
The elder took one look at the hovering collar, face gray. "That's not metal. That's mark."
Lily swallowed. "Mark?"
"Claim. Body and soul. Someone wore it, died inside it, refused to stay dead."
A chill crawled her spine.
The collar rotated, jaws opening wider—inviting.
The elder barked, "No one touch."
He drew a pouch, sprinkled white ash—wolfsbane and salt—around the collar in a perfect circle.
The metal hissed, dropped to floorboards, still.
For a heartbeat.
Then the circle of ash smoked, gray tendrils curling upward, forming letters in the air: ONE NIGHT – ONE HEART – OR THEY DROWN.
The smoke drifted toward the front door, dissolving into moonlight.
Outside, crickets went silent.
The elder exhaled. "It wants a wearer by dawn. Refuse—water takes you all."
Kade's voice cracked. "How do we kill a curse?"
"Find the body it clings to. Burn bone and memory."
Lily's mind raced—Victor's body sank in the pool days ago. They'd sealed the chimney, but water found paths.
She looked at Kade. "We dig the lake dry if we have to."
He nodded.
The elder placed a heavy hand on her shoulder. "You have till moon-set. After that, the collar snaps itself shut on the nearest heartbeat."
He left two wolves to guard the house, took the rest to search the woods for any sign of water seepage.
Inside, Lily barred doors, windows. Sage moved the twins to the truck, engine running, heater blasting.
Kade paced the living room, claws scoring new pine.
Lily sat on the couch, rifle across knees, eyes on the collar inside the ash ring.
It didn't move.
Hours crawled.
Moon slid across the sky, sinking.
At three a.m., the floorboard beneath the collar creaked.
A single drop of water seeped up, spreading.
Lily rose, heart hammering.
More drops followed—then a steady trickle.
She yelled, "Kade!"
He ran in, towel in hand, stopped—useless against flow.
Water crossed the ash line, turning it to mud.
The collar lifted again, jaws yawning.
Kade grabbed the fireplace poker, swung hard.
The metal rang, poker bent, collar unmarked.
Water reached Lily's boots, ice-cold.
She backed toward the hallway.
It followed, gliding above the surface.
In the bedroom, the twins' drawings floated off the coffee table, ink running, forming images—Victor's face, smiling, rising.
Water climbed walls, ceiling, yet never touched her skin—surrounding, trapping.
Kade shouted her name, voice muffled by liquid.
She turned—he stood outside the flood, separated by a wall of water, banging on it, unable to break through.
Inside the collar floated before her eyes, open, waiting.
Her reflection stared back—then smiled without her.
A hand rose from the water—Victor's hand—offering the collar clasp.
Behind the liquid wall, Kade's fists pounded silent.
Moonlight glinted off silver teeth.
The hand opened wider.
Water filled her boots, her lungs, her ears.
She couldn't breathe.
The collar moved closer, gentle, inevitable.
She lifted her hands—either to shove it away or to accept.
Her fingers brushed cold metal.
The clasp snapped.
Darkness closed.
Outside the wall, Kade's roar shattered glass.
Water exploded outward, drenching the room.
The collar lay empty on the soaked rug, clasp shut.
Lily was gone.
Only ripples remained—
and a single red eye blinking from the surface of a puddle,
watching him.