She drifted.
Not in water. Not in wind. But in something deeper—ancient.
Everything around her was soft and glowing, like she floated in the heart of a flame that didn't burn. The world outside—the pack, Kael, the War Room—was gone. She felt weightless, suspended between moments.
And then, she felt him.
Not Kael.
The Other.
A presence stirred in the dark flame. Warm. Seductive. Possessive. Like a wolf circling in the shadows of her soul, waiting for permission to be seen.
> "You're finally listening."
The voice was smooth and dark—like silk dipped in blood. It wasn't outside her. It echoed from within.
Aria turned, but saw nothing. "Who are you?"
> "I am what you buried. What they feared. What your blood remembers, even if your mind doesn't."
"Show yourself," she demanded, the air around her vibrating.
> "You've already seen me… in dreams… in power… in the eyes of those who fear you. But if you want form—so be it."
Flames licked around her. They twisted upward, coalescing into a tall figure made of shadows and embers. He was humanoid—bare-chested, sculpted like a god—but his eyes burned gold, and his hair flowed like smoke.
A perfect monster.
Aria took a step back. "You're inside me."
> "I am you. The part sealed away. The part meant to lead, not bow. The Feral Queen—the wolf-goddess who once ruled without leash or master."
Her heart thundered. "That's not who I am."
He stepped closer. "It is. Or it will be. That's why they fear you. Why they whisper. Why Kael watches you sleep like you're a ticking bomb. Because they know—deep down—that when you awaken… no one will command you."
His hand brushed her cheek, warm like the hearth, soft like a lover's touch. She should have pulled away.
But she didn't.
"I won't lose myself to you."
The corner of his lips curled. "Then let me show you what it feels like to own yourself."
With a flick of his fingers, the flames erupted, and suddenly, she wasn't floating anymore. She stood in a great hall made of obsidian and ash. Fire flickered in wall sconces. Pillars rose like claws toward a ceiling that was nothing but night.
At the center of the room: a throne.
Her throne.
She turned toward him—this shadow god, this voice that lived inside her—and found him close now, maybe too close.
"I'm not a queen," she said, but her voice lacked conviction.
"You are mine," he whispered against her neck.
Heat flooded her body. Her knees weakened. She hated the way he made her feel—unhinged, powerful, desperate to burn. It wasn't love. It was something more dangerous.
It was freedom.
His hand slid down her arm, his touch featherlight, sparking trails of fire on her skin. "You dream of Kael. His hands, his mouth, his need."
Her breath hitched.
"But I was the first mark on your soul," he murmured. "Before him. Before all of them."
"No," she whispered. "Kael… he's real."
The shadow-wolf leaned in, his lips grazing her jaw. "So am I."
She should have run.
But instead, she let herself feel.
Let herself be touched.
His mouth claimed hers—not soft, but consuming. Her pulse pounded like war drums as his arms wrapped around her, lifting her onto a surface of warm stone. Her back arched. Fire licked her spine.
"Give in to me," he growled.
"No," she moaned, even as her legs tightened around him.
"You can still have him," he said. "But when you burn, you'll remember who lit the first match."
Her soul felt like it was splitting.
Part of her screamed to wake up. The other part… wanted to know what it was like to reign with no leash, to run with no chains.
To burn.
She twisted, flipping him onto his back with unnatural strength. Her hands pinned his wrists, her teeth grazing his throat.
"I'm not yours," she hissed.
"Not yet," he groaned. "But soon."
She kissed him again—harder. Rougher. Letting her wildness spill free, if only for a moment. She could feel her power thrum, feel the heat between her thighs and the magic boiling under her skin.
Then—
> BOOM.
A tremor shook the dream-realm.
The flames flickered. The figure beneath her frowned.
> "They're trying to wake you."
"No," Aria whispered. "Not yet."
But already the realm was falling apart—crumbling like ash in the wind. The shadow-figure rose with her, cupping her face in both hands.
"Wake, queen of wolves," he whispered. "And remember me… when your body burns and Kael calls your name."
> "REMEMBER WHO YOU ARE."
---
She jolted upright, gasping.
Kael was beside her, gripping her shoulders.
"Aria!"
She looked at him, wide-eyed, chest heaving. She was drenched in sweat. Her skin burned. Her core ached from a ghostly touch.
Her mouth still tasted of smoke.
Kael pulled her into his arms, holding her tight. "I thought I lost you."
She shuddered. "Something's wrong, Kael."
His grip tightened. "I know. But you're here now. You're safe."
She pulled back, staring into his eyes. "The thing inside me… it's not just power. It's a person. A spirit. A… mate, maybe."
Kael's jaw clenched. "Mate?"
"Not like you," she said quickly. "Not love. Not bond. But… something old. Tied to my magic. To my wolf. He's in me. And he's waking up."
Kael looked shaken, but he nodded. "Then we find a way to bind it. Control it."
She hesitated. "What if...what if I don't want to?"
His eyes snapped to hers.
"What if part of me likes it?" she whispered.
Kael stared at her, breathing hard.
And then he kissed her. Not gentle. Not comforting.
Claiming.
"You're mine," he growled. "No shadow, no god, no flame will take you from me."
She moaned into his mouth, and when his hand slid under her nightdress, she welcomed it. Let the heat between them wash away the fire from the dream.
But deep in her soul, the voice laughed.
> "Let him have your body… for now."