I wake to the smell of smoke and pine.
My eyes snap open. I'm lying on something soft, a bedroll that isn't mine. Above me, tree branches cut across a grey morning sky, their dark silhouettes sharp against the pale light.
Someone moved me. Someone touched me.
Fury ignites in my chest, hot and immediate.
I sit up too fast. The world tilts sideways, and pain lances through my skull like someone's driven a spike between my eyes.
"Easy."
Cassian's voice. Close but not too close.
I turn my head and find all four of them arranged around a small fire, sitting in positions that suggest they've been there for hours. Watching me. Waiting.
"You touched me," I say. My voice is rough, scraped raw. Angry.
"You collapsed," Draco replies, his tone flat and unapologetic. "What were we supposed to do?"
"I told you not to touch me."
"You were unconscious," Lucen adds, and I can hear the frustration bleeding into his words. "What were we supposed to do? Leave you on the ground?"
"Yes."
The word comes out sharp as a blade, cutting through the morning air.
Silence falls around the fire. Even the crackling flames seem to quiet.
Bastien shifts uncomfortably, his broad shoulders hunching forward slightly. "You would have frozen."
"That's not your concern."
"It is when we feel every second of your pain through the bond," Draco snaps, his control cracking just for a moment. But I see it. The frustration. The helplessness. The way his hands curl into fists against his thighs.
Good.
I push myself to my feet, ignoring the way my legs shake beneath me. They hold, barely, but they hold.
"Next time, let me freeze."
I start to walk away from the camp, moving past the fire and into the trees beyond. My body protests immediately. Pain shoots up my spine in hot waves. My vision blurs at the edges, the forest going soft and indistinct.
I force myself forward anyway.
Three steps. Five. Ten.
The pain intensifies. Not muscle pain. Deeper. Like my bones are trying to reshape themselves without permission, grinding and shifting beneath my skin.
I stumble and catch myself against a tree, bark rough under my palms.
Behind me, both twins hiss in pain, sharp inhales cutting through the quiet.
They feel it. Every spike. Every wave. The bond transmitting my suffering directly into their bodies.
Part of me is satisfied by that. The rest of me just wants it to stop.
"This is the bond," Cassian says quietly. I hear him move closer, his footsteps careful on the forest floor. Still maintaining distance, but close enough to speak without shouting. "Your body is adjusting to the wolf. The bond magnifies everything."
"Make it stop."
"I can't."
I press my forehead against the rough bark, breathing through the pain. Each breath feels like work, like something I have to remember to do.
"How long does it last?"
"Days. Sometimes weeks."
Perfect.
Another wave hits, stronger this time. This one brings sound with it.
Howling. Distant but clear. Ancient and mournful, like the grief of something that's been dying for centuries.
I spin away from the tree, searching the forest. "Did you hear that?"
Cassian frowns, his expression shifting to alert concern. "Hear what?"
The howling continues, growing louder with each passing second. Multiple voices joining together in a chorus that makes my chest ache, that resonates in my bones like they're tuning forks struck in harmony.
"The howling."
"There's no howling," Lucen says. He's standing now, alert and tense, scanning the tree line. "What do you hear?"
The sound crescendos, building to something almost unbearable. Then cuts off abruptly, leaving only silence.
My vision fractures like broken glass.
I'm no longer in the forest. I'm somewhere else. Somewhere vast and white and empty, a landscape that stretches endlessly in all directions.
Wolves surround me. Massive creatures with white fur like mine, but older. Ancient. Their presence feels like weight, like history pressing down on reality.
They move in a circle, heads lowered. Submitting to something I can't see.
Then the circle parts, wolves stepping aside with reverent synchronization.
A white wolf larger than all the others steps forward. Its eyes are silver, bright and knowing and full of something that looks like defiance.
It kneels.
Not in submission. In defiance. The posture somehow managing to be both at once.
Above it, the moon burns. But not the gentle silver moon I know. This one is harsh. Demanding. Angry. Its light feels like judgment.
A voice speaks, female and absolute, carrying the kind of power that could unmake worlds.
"You were made to serve. Not to choose."
The white wolf doesn't rise. Doesn't bow lower.
It simply exists. Proud even on its knees, refusing to break under the weight of divine authority.
The moon flares white-hot, burning like a star about to explode.
The vision shatters.
I'm back in the forest, on my knees in the dirt, gasping for air. My lungs burn like I've been running.
Hands reach for me. I shove them away, still disoriented from whatever I just saw.
"Don't touch me."
The hands retreat immediately.
I force myself upright, pushing against the ground with trembling arms. My whole body shakes like I've been struck by lightning.
"What did you see?" Cassian asks, his voice careful and clinical, like he's trying not to spook me.
"Wolves," I manage, the words coming out rough. "White wolves. And the moon."
He exchanges a glance with Bastien, something wordless passing between them.
"Direwolf memory," Bastien says quietly. "The awakening triggered it."
I wrap my arms around myself, trying to hold the shaking in. The vision felt more real than the forest around me, more solid than the ground beneath my knees.
"What happened to them?" I ask. "The Direwolves."
Cassian hesitates, his jaw working like he's choosing his words carefully. Then he speaks with the careful precision of someone reciting history they've memorized.
"They defied the Moon Goddess. Refused to accept her hierarchy. She couldn't destroy them outright, so she erased them. Scattered their bloodlines. Made sure they could never gather again."
"Why?"
"Because they chose," Bastien says, and his voice carries weight. Old pain. The kind that's been buried so long it's become part of the foundation. "They chose who to serve. Who to follow. Who to love. The Moon Goddess demands obedience, not choice."
The words settle over me like a shroud, heavy and suffocating.
"So she killed them for having free will," I say.
"She removed them from the order," Cassian corrects, and I can hear the distinction he's making. "Killing them would have caused imbalance. Instead, she made sure they couldn't reproduce. Couldn't pass on their power."
"But I exist."
"Yes."
"How?"
No one answers. The silence stretches between us, full of questions nobody seems willing to voice.
The twins have moved to the edge of camp. They're standing close together, heads tilted in that synchronized way they have. Listening to something.
Draco's expression darkens, his jaw tightening.
"Do you hear that?" he asks Lucen quietly.
Lucen nods slowly, his eyes scanning the forest.
I focus on my enhanced hearing, pushing past the normal sounds of the forest. Past the birds and insects and rustling leaves.
There. Faint but distinct.
Whispers. Multiple voices, overlapping like a conversation heard through walls. Coming from the trees themselves.
"She is claimed."
"Marked."
"The moon will not have her."
The voices overlap, weaving together. Male and female. Old and young. None of them belong to wolves I know.
"Who's there?" Draco calls out, his voice sharp with command.
The whispers stop.
Silence presses down on the forest, thick and complete. Too complete. Even the insects have gone quiet, like the whole world is holding its breath.
I scan the tree line, looking for movement. Nothing moves. Nothing breathes.
But I feel it. That presence. The same one that watched from the temple.
It's closer now. Much closer.
But still not threatening. Still just observing, like it's waiting for something.
"Someone's watching us," Lucen says. His body is tense, muscles coiled and ready to fight or flee.
"I know," I reply.
"You know?" Draco turns to face me, his expression shifting to something between anger and disbelief. "Since when?"
"Since the temple."
Both twins stare at me, and I can see the questions building behind their eyes.
"And you didn't think to mention it?" Lucen demands.
"I don't owe you explanations."
Cassian moves to my side, still maintaining distance but close enough to be heard clearly. "Can you sense what it is?" he asks, his tone neutral and assessing.
I close my eyes. Focus on the feeling, trying to separate it from the bond pulls and the pain and the lingering vision.
Warmth. Patience. Something old but not ancient like the Direwolves. Different. Brighter. Like sunlight compared to moonlight.
And underneath it all, a pull. Softer than the bond to the twins but somehow more certain, like a compass needle finding north.
"I don't know what it is," I admit. "But it's not dangerous."
"How do you know?"
"I just do."
The presence pulses, a warm wave that washes over me. Acknowledging. Approving.
Then it retreats slightly, pulling back like a tide. Still there but less insistent, giving me space to breathe.
The forest sounds return gradually. Insects resuming their buzzing. Birds calling from the canopy. The normal rhythm of life reasserting itself.
Bastien is staring into the trees with an expression I can't read, something between recognition and disbelief.
"The old stories say Direwolves were sometimes chosen by other gods," he says slowly, like he's piecing together a puzzle as he speaks. "Not just the Moon. Gods of love. War. Hunt. They couldn't claim Direwolves outright because of the Moon's dominion. But they watched. They waited."
"For what?"
"For the Direwolf to choose them back."
The words hang in the air, heavy with implication.
I think about the five scents that slammed into me at the temple. Five bonds I don't understand, each one distinct and overwhelming.
Two are here. The twins. Mates whether we want it or not.
But the others. The distant ones that I can barely feel.
What are they?
Another wave of pain hits, less intense this time but still debilitating. I sink down to sit on the ground, my legs giving out beneath me. Force myself to breathe through it, counting each inhale and exhale.
"We need to keep moving," I say when it passes, when I can speak without my voice shaking.
"You need rest," Draco counters.
"I need distance from the pack."
"The pack doesn't know you're a Direwolf yet," Cassian points out, his voice carrying a warning. "But they will. Soon. And when they do..."
"When they do, I'll be too far away for it to matter."
I push myself back to my feet, slower this time. More careful. Testing my weight before I commit to it.
The bond pulls at me, insistent and demanding. Wanting me to acknowledge the twins. Acknowledge what we are to each other.
I ignore it, shoving the feeling down like I've shoved down everything else.
The wind picks up, gentle and warm despite the morning chill. It carries a scent I don't recognize. Clean. Golden. Unfamiliar. Nothing like wolf or forest or pack.
And with it, a sound so soft I almost miss it.
My name.
Whispered on the wind like a secret. Like a promise.
Not the harsh command of wolves. Not the absolute authority of the moon.
Something else entirely.
I freeze, every muscle in my body going still.
Turn toward the sound.
But there's nothing there. Just trees and shadows and morning light filtering through leaves.
The whisper comes again, closer this time.
"Aphrodite."
Gentle. Patient. Waiting. Like it has all the time in the world.
My heart pounds against my ribs, hard enough that I wonder if the others can hear it.
The twins haven't heard it. Neither have Cassian or Bastien. They're watching me with confused expressions, but they clearly don't hear what I'm hearing.
This is meant only for me.
I take a step toward the sound, drawn forward by something I can't name.
Then another.
"Aphrodite." Softer now. Fading like smoke.
"Who are you?" I whisper.
The wind dies, falling to absolute stillness.
The voice is gone.
But the presence remains, closer than ever. Wrapped around me like sunlight, warm and steady and somehow reassuring.
And for the first time since the temple, I don't feel alone.