Elara woke choking.
Not on air—on scent.
It filled her lungs, thick and invasive, dragging her out of unconsciousness like claws hooked beneath her ribs. Stone, old blood, cold fire, and something sharper beneath it all. Something alive. Watching.
Her eyes flew open.
Darkness pressed in from every side, broken only by thin silver veins running through the walls like cracks in frozen lightning. The room was circular, carved directly into stone, the ceiling arched high above her head. No windows. No doors she could see—only a single iron-bound opening set deep into the wall, sealed shut.
A cell.
Her cell.
She tried to sit up.
Pain exploded through her body.
It wasn't localized. It wasn't clean. It was everywhere at once—her bones aching as if they were being stretched, her muscles trembling as though they no longer fit the shape they were meant to hold. Her skin felt too tight, too sensitive, every brush of air scraping against her nerves.
Elara gasped and collapsed back onto the stone slab beneath her.
Her heart was wrong.
It beat too slowly.
Then too fast.
Then paused—long enough that panic clawed up her throat—before slamming back into motion with brutal force.
Thump.
Thump.
Each beat sent heat spiraling outward, crawling through her veins like molten metal.
"No," she whispered hoarsely. "No, no, no—"
Her hands shook as she lifted them into view.
They looked the same.
Too human.
Too fragile.
But when she clenched her fists, something shifted beneath the skin. Not visibly—not yet—but she felt it, a pressure building in her knuckles, her fingers aching as though something sharper wanted out.
A sound tore from her throat, half sob, half snarl.
She slapped a hand over her mouth.
The noise had not sounded like her.
The scent returned stronger, flooding her senses until she gagged. It wasn't coming from the room.
It was coming from her.
Her blood smelled wrong.
Metallic, yes—but layered with something wild, something that made her mouth water and her stomach twist with a hunger she had never known.
She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to breathe through it.
Images pressed against her mind.
Moonlight on fur soaked dark.
Teeth tearing into flesh that screamed and then went silent.
Kneeling figures. Wolves. Vampires. Creatures she had only heard of in whispered warnings.
And at the center of it all—
Silver eyes.
Elara screamed.
The sound bounced off the stone walls, raw and broken, echoing back to her until it felt like the room itself was screaming with her. Her body arched as heat surged violently through her spine, her back bowing off the slab.
Something pulled inside her.
Hard.
Relentless.
As if an invisible hand had reached into her chest and twisted.
She clawed at her sternum, nails scraping skin, desperate to rip out whatever was burning its way free. The brand beneath her collarbone flared, searing hot, lighting the room in a brief, violent glow.
Her vision went white.
Then black.
Footsteps.
Slow. Measured.
They cut through the haze like a blade.
Elara forced her eyes open.
He stood just beyond the bars.
Kael.
He hadn't changed.
Still dressed in black, still impossibly calm, as though her screams had been nothing more than distant thunder. His silver eyes were brighter now, reflecting the glow of the seal as it pulsed weakly beneath her skin.
"You're awake," he said.
Her lips trembled. "You did this."
"Yes."
The simplicity of it stole her breath.
"You—" She tried to push herself upright again and failed, her body shuddering violently. "You said no feeding. No silver. You knew this would happen."
Kael stepped closer to the bars. The air thickened immediately, pressing down on her chest until breathing felt like work.
"I knew you would change," he said. "I did not know how fast."
Terror curled cold in her stomach. "Change into what?"
He studied her in silence, gaze flicking to her hands, her throat, the way her body shook despite her effort to control it.
"That," he said finally, "depends on whether you break."
Anger flared, hot and sudden, cutting through the fear like a spark to oil.
"Let me out," she snapped. "If you think locking me in here will make this easier—"
Kael's eyes flashed.
The pressure slammed into her, crushing her back against the stone. Her breath left her in a strangled gasp, lungs refusing to draw air.
"You will not raise your voice to me," he said softly.
She clawed at the slab, fingers digging into stone as her vision blurred. Panic surged, wild and feral.
Then—just as abruptly—it stopped.
She collapsed forward, gasping, sweat slicking her skin.
Kael did not look apologetic.
He looked… alert.
"You felt that," he said.
Elara glared up at him through tears. "Felt what?"
"My control," he replied. "And you pushed against it."
Her chest tightened. "I didn't—"
"You did," he interrupted. "Even restrained. Even half-awakened. Your instinct resisted."
He was smiling now.
It wasn't kind.
It wasn't pleased.
It was the smile of a predator realizing its prey had teeth.
"That shouldn't be possible," Kael murmured.
Her pulse thundered in her ears. "You said I wasn't human."
"I said you weren't only human."
The distinction landed like a blow.
"What am I?" she demanded.
He didn't answer immediately.
Instead, he reached through the bars.
Elara flinched back, but there was nowhere to go. His fingers brushed her wrist, and the contact sent a jolt through her entire body—heat, hunger, fear, all tangled together.
Her breath hitched traitorously.
Kael stilled.
Slowly, his gaze lifted to her face.
Something dark flickered in his eyes.
"You feel that," he said quietly.
She swallowed hard. "Stop."
He didn't.
His thumb pressed lightly over her pulse.
Her heart leapt violently beneath his touch, racing now, responding to him as if it recognized something it had been missing.
Kael's jaw tightened.
"Your body knows," he said. "Even if your mind refuses to."
"Knows what?" she whispered.
He leaned closer, his voice dropping, dangerous and intimate.
"That you are bound to more than one world."
The hunger surged suddenly, sharp enough to make her gasp. Her mouth watered, teeth aching painfully, gums throbbing as if something beneath them wanted to shift.
Elara whimpered, clutching at his sleeve. "Please—something's wrong—"
Kael's hand tightened reflexively around her wrist.
For one brief, terrifying second, his control slipped.
She felt it.
A raw surge of power rolled through the cell, heavy and suffocating, carrying with it the echo of fangs, claws, dominance so absolute it made her body go weak.
Kael yanked his hand back as though burned.
Silence crashed down between them.
His chest rose and fell once. Twice.
When he spoke again, his voice was rougher.
"They lied to you," he said. "About what you are. About what you were meant to become."
Her vision blurred. "Then tell me the truth."
Kael turned away.
"No," he said. "Not yet."
Fury flared. "You can't just—"
"I can," he cut in coldly. "And I will. Because when the truth comes, it will tear what's left of your humanity apart."
He paused at the door.
"There is a reason vampires have been watching your bloodline for generations," he said without looking back. "A reason the wolves erased your name from their histories."
Her breath caught painfully. "What reason?"
Kael opened the door.
Then stopped.
"They are afraid of what happens," he said quietly, "when you choose."
The door slammed shut.
Locks snapped into place.
The light in the seal beneath her collarbone flared once more—brighter this time.
Deeper.
And somewhere in the darkness of her mind, something ancient opened its eyes fully.
Hungry.
Aware.
Waiting.