Adriel's POV
Mason didn't push me for answers after that night.
He didn't hover or ask questions that cut too close to wounds still bleeding. Instead, he gave me space—real space, the kind that felt intentional, respectful. It made trusting him easier. More dangerous too.
The penthouse felt different now.
Not just safe, but… aware.
I could feel it in the quiet hum beneath the marble floors, in the way the air seemed to shift when I moved. After the hunters, after the file with my name stamped across it like a warning, something inside me had cracked open.
And it wasn't closing again.
So I waited until Mason left for work the next morning.
The city was wrapped in gray when the elevator doors slid shut behind him. Clouds pressed low against the windows, muting the skyline. A perfect day to disappear.
I locked every door. Drew the blinds. Turned off every screen.
Then I stood alone in the living room, bare feet against cold stone, heart hammering like it knew something my mind was trying to ignore.
"Just feel it," I whispered to myself.
I closed my eyes.
At first, there was only the familiar chaos—fear, memories, the echo of Alex's voice layered over the pack's whispers.
Weak.
Abomination.
Mistake.
I forced them down.
Beneath them was something else. Quieter. Older.
Power.
It didn't roar or demand. It waited.
My breath slowed. I focused inward, the way the old healer used to teach us pups—before the elders decided I was too dangerous to train properly.
I reached.
The world tilted.
Heat flooded my veins, not painful, but intense, like stepping into sunlight after a long winter. My senses sharpened until I could hear the distant traffic below, count the floors between me and the street.
I opened my eyes.
The room looked… layered. As if reality had depth I'd never noticed before. Colors glowed faintly at the edges. Shadows breathed.
"Okay," I murmured. "Okay."
I lifted my hand.
The air shimmered.
Not fire. Not lightning.
Something else.
It bent—responding to me.
I gasped, dropping my arm as the pressure snapped back into place. The sudden release sent me stumbling backward into the couch.
My heart raced.
I laughed—a short, breathless sound.
"I did that," I whispered.
I sat there for a long moment, grounding myself, pressing my palms into the cushions until the room felt solid again.
Slow.
Cautious.
That was the rule now.
I stood again, braver this time.
I focused on shifting but not fully. Just enough.
My bones hummed, muscles tightening. My vision sharpened as my pupils narrowed. Claws slid free with a soft, terrifying sound.
I stared at my hands.
They didn't frighten me anymore.
I tested my balance, my strength. One careful leap carried me across the room. Another took me onto the dining table without a sound.
Control.
A laugh bubbled up, genuine this time.
Then I felt a tug.
Not inside me but outside. Like a thread pulled tight somewhere beyond the walls.
My smile faded.
I turned slowly, scanning the room.
Nothing.
But the sensation lingered, subtle and insistent, like a distant call.
Alex.
The thought slammed into me without warning.
I staggered, claws retracting as I pressed a hand to my chest. The bond—damn it, it was still there. Thin, frayed, but alive.
He was searching.
I swallowed hard. "You won't find me," I whispered.
I needed answers. Real ones.
The old woman Ally had mentioned—the one who lived beyond the city's edges, between worlds. The one who knew things she shouldn't.
I didn't know how I knew where she was.
I just… did.
The woods swallowed the city faster than I expected.
By late afternoon, concrete gave way to trees, steel to earth. I followed instincts I didn't trust but couldn't ignore, until the air itself felt heavier, charged.
The cabin appeared suddenly, half-hidden by moss and shadows. Smoke curled from the chimney.
I hesitated.
Then knocked.
The door creaked open before my hand touched it.
"I was wondering when you'd come," a voice said.
The woman was ancient—or maybe ageless. Her eyes were sharp, bright with knowledge that made my skin prickle.
"You know who I am," I said.
She smiled. "Of course I do, child of the Unbound."
The words settled into me like a truth I'd been circling my whole life.
Inside, the cabin smelled of herbs and old magic. Symbols carved into the walls pulsed faintly as I stepped over the threshold.
"You're awakening faster than expected," she continued, watching me closely. "That's dangerous."
"So is ignorance," I shot back.
She chuckled. "Spoken like your mother."
My breath caught. "You knew her."
"I knew of her," the woman corrected. "She was feared. Loved. Betrayed."
The pattern was sickeningly familiar.
"What am I?" I asked, my voice unsteady despite my resolve. "What did they make me into?"
"You were born, not made," she said firmly. "Your kind existed before the Moon Goddess bound wolves to her cycles. Before packs, before alphas."
I frowned. "That's impossible."
"History is written by those who survive," she said. "And your ancestors did not."
The room felt too small suddenly.
"Your power doesn't come from the moon," she went on. "It comes from balance. You can bend the veil between forms because you are not tied to one."
"That's why I can shift without the moon," I whispered.
"Yes."
"And why the pack wanted me dead."
Her gaze softened. "They fear what they cannot command."
Images flashed behind my eyes—wolves bowing, blood on snow, fire in the dark.
"You must be careful," she warned. "Each time you use your power, it takes something from you."
"What?" I demanded.
She hesitated.
"That depends on what you cling to most."
I left before she could say more.
The sky was dark by the time I returned to the city, unease curling tight in my stomach.
Mason was waiting.
He stood by the window, phone pressed to his ear, tension radiating from him.
When he saw me, relief flickered—then vanished.
"She's back," he said into the phone. "Yes. I know."
He ended the call and turned to me.
"Where did you go?" he asked quietly.
"I needed answers."
"And now?" His gaze searched mine.
I opened my mouth to speak—And the bond flared.
Pain ripped through my chest as a presence slammed into my mind, cold and furious.
Enough running.
I gasped, dropping to my knees as the room darkened around me.
Mason was at my side instantly. "Adriel!"
I clutched my head, breath coming in ragged bursts.
"He found me," I whispered. "Not my location. Me."
The lights flickered violently.
The windows rattled.
Outside, thunder split the sky.
And deep within my chest, something ancient stirred—angry, awake, and no longer content to stay hidden.
One terrifying reality emerged as Mason embraced me and the city shook under our feet: the power within me wasn't merely awakening.
It was answering a call and it didn't care who got burned.