Amira's POV
They say each day comes with its blessings and I guess some also come with curses.
The blood on my hands was not mine. Crimson drops slid from my shaking fingers and hit the pine needles below. Moonlight made them look almost black, but behind me came another howl.
It was not a wolf howl. It sounded wet and low, like something learning how to mimic the sound. The noise made my bones hurt in a way that felt wrong.
I had been running for about twelve minutes. My lungs burned, and my legs felt heavy. I could still see the clearing in my mind: three rogue wolves around a dead deer.
Its throat had been cut in a perfect curve. Symbols were burnt into the dirt and still sent up thin smoke.
When one of the rogues lunged at me, my body moved before my mind caught up. Heat burst from my palms. The wolf flew back and hit an oak tree with a sharp crack. Then I turned and ran.
I wiped my hands hard on my jeans until the fabric turned dark. The pack bonfire would be lit by now. If I slipped into the crowd quietly, no one might notice the metal taste in my mouth or the way my heart refused to slow.
Shadows pressed in as I moved through the underbrush. Every broken twig sounded too loud, while every leaf rustle felt like eyes on my back.
"Lost, little wolf?"
I spun around so fast that my boot slipped on wet moss. She stood between two pine trees. Crimson robes moved as if stirred by a wind I could not feel. White hair floated around her shoulders. Her eyes were pure white and stared straight through me.
The Crimson Seer, immediately, my heart slammed against my ribs. "What do you want?" The words came out too thin.
She tilted her head. "The better question is what you want, Amira Vale." Her voice flowed like honey over sharp glass. "You have asked it in silence your whole life. Why am I different? Why do the dreams grow sharper every night? Why did your mother vanish under a red moon?"
My breath caught and no one knew about the shrine in the Dead Woods. Not Eira, not even my father, but only I. Three months ago, I found the old stone. It pulsed like a heartbeat. When my fingers touched it, the dreams began.
She took one step closer. My legs refused to move. "Tomorrow night the Blood Moon rises," she said. "You believe the shift will make you belong at last. But the change started the moment your skin met the Hollow."
Cold spread through my veins. "I do not know what you mean."
"Liar." The word rang with old power. "The abandoned shrine, the stone that beat like a living heart. You touched it and it touched you in return."
My mouth felt dry. "What was it?"
"Birthright, curse and crown." Her smile stretched wide. "Tonight the pack will see it, your father will see and the Blackthorn heir…" She laughed. The sound was like crystal breaking. "He already knows. Why do you think he watches?"
My stomach turned over. "No one watches me." "Run along, cursed daughter. Your celebration waits." She leaned closer. The smell of ashes and old blood filled my nose. "But before this moon sets, you will choose. Either save them or save yourself. Both are no longer possible."
She faded like smoke pulled by the wind. Only the scent stayed behind.
Drums beat in the distance. The pack had started. I ran.
I burst into the clearing, my breath ragged and leaves tangled in my hair. I slipped between bodies and tried to look like I had been there the whole time. The bonfire snapped high and threw heat against my cold skin.
"Well, well," Rowan's voice cut through the music and laughter. "Decided to join us after all?"
He leaned against a log with his wine cup loose in one hand. His friends stood around him like shadows. Their eyes moved over me with open disgust.
"What do you want, Rowan?" Tiredness made my words flat.
"Just curious if the whispers hold truth." He straightened. Wine scented his breath. "That you will not shift tomorrow and that you will shame your father in front of both packs."
Heat climbed my throat. "The only shame here is you speaking."
"You do not belong here, Amira." His voice dropped low and sharp. "Alpha's daughter or not. Blood does not fix what is broken inside."
The circle of wolves tightened. Eyes watched from every side. I stepped close enough to feel his breath. "Say it plain."
His smirk grew. "Different, wrong and cursed. Like your mother before she ran and left you behind."
Power sparked under my skin. The same heat from the forest and my nails dug into my palms.
"Enough."
Dorian's voice fell like a blade. The pack went still. He stepped into the firelight. Grey streaked his dark hair. Scars shone silver on his knuckles. His eyes cut straight to me.
"Father".
"You shame yourself with this." His words reached every ear in the clearing. "Remember who you are." "I know who I am."
"Do you?" His jaw muscle jumped. "Because you look like a child with no control, no discipline and no place among wolves."
The words struck hard and my chest felt hollow. Wolves watched with sharp interest.
"The ritual begins," Elder Maia called and I turned away. I walked to the line of five waiting near the fire. The others shifted on their feet with bright eyes. I stood stiff and my stomach twisted.
Maia lifted her silver cup and herbs smoked thick and green in a bowl. "To the Blood Moon and to the gift of the shift."
Cups rose. "To the blood moon." The cold hit hard. Twenty degrees dropped in a breath.
The bonfire roared higher. Flames shifted from orange to blue to blinding white. Cheers died in throats.
She stepped from the centre of the fire in the crimson robes. White eyes locked on me across the crowd. Her smile cut like a knife.
"The cursed daughter will either crown or bury all of you." Silver cups fell. Wine spread dark across the dirt. Wolves stepped back.
Dorian's hand moved to his sword hilt. "Leave this place, witch."
Her laugh scraped my teeth. "You think you can silence prophecy, Alpha?" One thin finger pointed at my chest. "The moon rises. The Hollow wakes. The Vale line ends in blood and shadow."
Fire burst upward. Sparks flew like dying stars. I blinked. She was gone.
Her words stayed thick in the air.
I could not breathe. The pack stared. Some moved back. Some gripped knife hilts tightly. Rowan's laugh broke the quiet.
"Look around, Amira. Look what follows you." Wine gleamed like fresh wounds. My father's hand stayed on his sword. "I have to go," I whispered. I ran.
Trees closed around me. Branches tore at my sleeves and scratched my arms. My lungs screamed. My legs gave out against a large oak. I slid down the bark and gasped for air.
A new scent cut through the pine, lightning, motor oil and smoke. "Going somewhere?" I spun around.
Jimmy Aeson stepped out from the shadows. Tall. Black hair fell over dark eyes. The leather jacket carried scars from old fights. His face looked carved for old tales of warrior kings.
"What are you doing on Vale land?" He smiled slowly and dangerously. Enjoying the show. Though I expected more fire from the famous Amira Vale. Heat burned behind my eyes. "Careful. I bite."
"Do you?" He moved closer. His scent drowned every thought. A storm is about to break. "Maybe you are worth the time after all."
"Get to the point."
The smile vanished. He closed the last step. Heat rolled off his skin.
"If you shift tomorrow night," he said in a whisper, "I will be the one to kill you."
Ice flooded my blood. My fingers twitched toward the knife at my belt.
He stepped back into the darkness. "Sweet dreams, Amira Vale." He was gone.
The wind rose and leaves hissed overhead. A howl rolled through the trees, hungry and wrong. Even closer than before.
My mother's pendant burned hot against my skin through the shirt. I pulled it free.
Silver glowed, but not from moonlight. It pulsed and symbols appeared on the surface. The same marks were burnt into the forest dirt tonight and the same marks were on the shrine stone months ago.
I closed my fingers around the burning metal and pain anchored me.
"What did you do, Mom?" I whispered.
One heartbeat passed as wind carried a voice that was soft and impossible.
"I gave you a choice. Use it wisely." The howl came again, but much closer.
I ran toward the pack of lights. The pendant thumped against my chest like a second terrified heart as one question clawed louder than the thing behind me.
What if I were not running from the Hollow? What if I were the Hollow?