Avery's POV
I didn't mean to stay.
The smart thing would've been to run the moment the wolf collapsed. To pretend I'd never seen glowing wounds knit themselves closed under moonlight. To walk away before the forest decided I was part of whatever nightmare I'd stepped into.
Instead, I stood there, frozen, staring as the wolf's body twisted in ways no living thing should.
Bones cracked.
The sound was wet and wrong, echoing too loud in the quiet clearing. The wolf's spine arched violently, limbs jerking as if something inside him was tearing its way out. I backed up until my shoulders hit a tree, bark biting through my jacket.
"No," I whispered. "No, no—"
The silver light thickened, pressing down like weight. My ears rang. My stomach rolled.
The wolf's shape folded inward.
Fur receded. Legs stretched. Joints shifted with brutal snaps that made my teeth clench. A human scream ripped from his throat, raw and hoarse, shredding the night.
Then it stopped.
The light faded as abruptly as it had come.
A man lay in the snow.
He was naked, sprawled on his side, chest heaving. Dark hair plastered to his forehead with sweat and blood. His body was all hard lines and old scars—white slashes across ribs, shoulder, thigh—marks that spoke of fights survived, not won cleanly.
I couldn't move. My legs refused to work.
His eyes opened.
Gold.
The same gold that had watched me from the trap.
"You shouldn't have done that," he rasped.
The sound of his voice—human, strained—hit me harder than the transformation had. My pulse slammed so hard I thought I might pass out.
"You were dying," I said. My voice shook. "I wasn't going to—just leave you."
A humorless breath left him. "That would've been smarter."
He tried to push himself up and failed, arm giving out beneath him. A sharp sound tore from his chest as he collapsed back into the snow.
I moved before I thought.
I crossed the space between us and dropped to my knees, hands hovering uselessly. "Don't—don't move. You'll—"
"Make it worse?" His jaw tightened. "Already there."
Up close, the heat coming off him was intense. Feverish. Wrong. My skin prickled like static.
"What are you?" I asked.
His gaze flicked to my face, sharp even through pain. "Someone you just tied yourself to."
My stomach sank. "I didn't—"
A sound cut through the woods.
Footsteps.
Not heavy. Not careless. Controlled. Crunching snow in measured intervals.
His entire body went rigid.
"They're close," he said.
"Who?"
"Hunting me."
Another step. Then another. Too many to count.
My heart slammed. "Can you run?"
A corner of his mouth twitched, bitter. "If I could, I wouldn't be here."
Panic surged hot and fast. I scanned the clearing. Open. Exposed. No cover except trees too thin to hide behind.
My cabin.
It wasn't far. A half-mile downhill. Stupid. Dangerous. But it was shelter.
"Can you shift again?" I asked.
His eyes flicked to the moon, then back to me. "Not without losing myself."
That sounded worse than useless.
The footsteps drew closer.
"Then you're coming with me," I said.
He stared like he couldn't believe what he was hearing. "If they find you with me—"
"I know," I snapped. "Get up."
I hooked my arm under his shoulder and hauled. He was heavier than he looked, solid muscle dragging against my strength. He hissed but didn't fight me, letting me take his weight.
We staggered into the trees just as a shadow moved at the edge of the clearing.
I didn't look back.
Branches whipped my face as we pushed through the undergrowth. Every snapped twig sounded like a gunshot. My lungs burned, legs shaking under his weight.
"You should leave me," he muttered. "They won't kill you."
I didn't answer.
The cabin appeared through the trees like a promise I wasn't sure I deserved to keep. I slammed the door behind us and shoved the bolt into place, hands trembling so badly it took two tries.
Only then did I let him collapse onto the floor.
He sucked in air, body trembling. I grabbed the blanket from the cot and threw it over him without thinking.
"Don't," he said sharply.
"Too late."
My hand brushed his wrist.
Pain exploded up my arm.
I gasped, jerking back, but it was already too late. Heat seared my skin, sharp and deep, like something branding me from the inside. I cried out, clutching my wrist as a crescent-shaped mark flared to life—silver, burning, alive.
He swore violently and surged upright despite the pain. "No—damn it—"
"What did you do to me?" I shouted, panic crashing through fear.
"I didn't do anything," he said. His voice shook. "The moon did."
The mark pulsed once.
Then faded.
Leaving my skin tingling and numb.
Footsteps stopped outside the cabin.
Silence pressed in, thick and heavy.
He looked at me, gold eyes dark with something close to dread. "You shouldn't have touched me."
My wrist still burned. My heart raced. Outside, the hunters breathed quietly in the snow.
"What happens now?" I whispered.
His jaw tightened. "Now they decide whether you're a witness…"
A shadow passed across the window.
"…or part of the hunt."
The mark beneath my sleeve throbbed again.
And I knew, with cold certainty, that whatever I'd stepped into—
The forest wasn't letting me walk back out.