Chapter 1.
Deep beneath the forest floor, dozens of werewolves stood in tense silence inside an underground chamber. Their eyes fixed on the old man at the front.
Herakim's eyes were closed.
The fraternal twins in the front row shifted restlessly.
"Why hasn't Herakim opened his eyes yet?" Tiana whispered.
"I don't know," Tyler muttered. "I'm just tired of staring at him."
Bryan elbowed Tyler hard. Tyler glared but shut up.
Seconds later, Herakim's eyes snapped open. A faint smile touched his lips.
"Brothers and sisters," he began, "tonight is a full moon. A dangerous night. But I bring good news."
The room leaned forward.
"Our Savior has awakened. The one who will free us from the vampires and were-panthers."
Howls of excitement erupted.
Herakim raised one hand. Silence slammed back down.
"But she does not know who she is. Or what she is."
Blaine stepped forward. "Then we tell her. Take her blood, mix it with an alpha's, end this."
"You can't," Herakim said. "We must wait six full moons."
Adele, the female Alpha, climbed onto the podium beside her mate Gandulf. "The younger alphas will protect her with your lives. The vampires already know she exists. They will try to kill her before she can save us."
Herakim stepped down, his ancient eyes locking onto the group.
"She is someone the human world already knows. A young woman with special blood—blood that, when mixed with an alpha's, will make us stronger than we have ever been."
He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes.
"Her name is Lillian Silver."
---
In the kitchen of Mr. Hudson's mansion, Lillian Silver was peeling an apple.
The knife slipped. It sliced across her left index finger.
She yelped and dropped the knife. Blood welled up—then stopped. The skin knitted together. Within seconds, the cut vanished. No scar. No pain.
Lillian stared at her finger, heart pounding. Did I just… heal?
She touched the spot. Nothing. Pressed harder. Still nothing.
Oh my God.
"Are you okay?" Miles Hudson appeared in the doorway. "I heard you yelp."
Lillian shoved her hand behind her back. "Nothing. I don't know why I said anything."
She tried to leave, but Miles stepped in front of her, holding up a bunch of keys.
"What's that?"
"The key to your castle!" Miles grinned. "Dad built it for you, because you won the Booker Prize. He's not home, or he would have given it himself."
Lillian grabbed the keys, her shock momentarily forgotten. "My castle? My wish finally came true!"
She jumped, laughing, while Miles watched with an affectionate smile.
But in the back of her mind, a question lingered: What happened to my finger? And what else can I do?
"So I'll leave you to your celebration," Miles said. "If you need anything, I'll be in my room."
He left.
As soon as Miles was gone, Lillian's smile faded.
I need to get some fresh air.
She walked out to the balcony and stood there, enjoying the view of the stars. The night breeze brushed her face, but it didn't calm her racing thoughts.
Then she heard a chilling whisper behind her.
"Look down."
She spun around. No one was there.
She looked down over the railing.
On the ground far below, she saw herself—lying in a pool of blood, motionless.
She stumbled back, gasping. Her heart pounded against her ribs. When she worked up the courage to look again, the vision was gone.
I'm definitely seeing things. Maybe it's because of what happened with my finger. I have nothing to fear.
But her voice trembled. Her hands shook as she wiped them on her gown.
She hurried back inside and locked the balcony door behind her. She stared at her healed finger again.
"What's happening to me?" she whispered.
No answer came.
Only the silence of the empty room.
Lillian sat on her bed, the castle keys cold in her palm. She raised her left hand again. The finger was perfect—no cut, no scar.
How?
She grabbed a pair of scissors from her desk and pressed the blade against her skin, just hard enough to draw a line. Nothing happened. She pressed harder. A tiny bead of blood appeared—and vanished. The skin sealed instantly.
She dropped the scissors. I'm not imagining it.
A knock on her door. Miles. "Lillian? Everything okay?"
"Yeah. Just… tired." She hid her hand under the blanket. I need to figure this out. Maybe the castle has answers. Maybe there she could find answers. Maybe there she could hide from the voice that whispered in the dark.
Why would I even think of that? The supernatural world doesn't exist and I am not going to go crazy over it. She said to herself and tried to sleep but she couldn't.
I don't wanna lose my sleep over this, Lillian Silver, sleep, she encouraged herself and closed her eyes but it wasn't easy.